A home is supposed to be a place where you stay and are loved. A place where you are free to be yourself, comfortably living life the way you desire. Although, it's hard to call a place so heinous like this a home, nor the many “homes” Laney tried living in before. The first nightmare was when Laney was only seven, just three years after spending perhaps the only life she enjoyed in the Lady Tiffany’s home for girls. The first home she was assigned, a grand victorian masterwork, seemed all right at first, but coming out felt like a relief, feeling like an object which filled the “unexplainable void” missing in Mrs. Hathaway’s heart. The next was
better, but they all knew that the only thing that mattered to the Stevenson family was the paycheck coming in with the child. The following places began and ended just like the last, with Laney thinking that she would never have a proper place to call home, unless it was in a place with the one woman Laney wanted the most, her mother. I’m going to find you one day mama, I have to. However, as the years grew, so did she, and the bigger she got the brighter she became, but all the while realizing the same truth, that her mother wasn’t coming back for her anytime soon.
Laney made her way down the hardwood stairs, each croaking with a new sound, the paneling about to break soon enough. There in the kitchen stood her aggressor, or as the agency put it, her “adoptive mother, ready to bring in a new light into her home”. Although one thing was for certain, this house was never going to become anything further.
“There you are, Loser Laney! What in the world took you so long!” Big Franny called out, her malodorous breath stinking up half the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry Franny I was w-”
“DON’T even think about answering, because I don’t want to hear anymore of your silly excuses! Now stop standing there with that blank look on your face and get to work!” Big Franny cut over in her ghastly tone,
“And don’t even think about coming back for breakfast until you’ve finished them all, is that understood you little brat?”
“Yes Franny” Laney repeated monotonously, not saying another word before making her way to the closet, getting all the materials she needed to start the day's work.
Each day brought a new checklist ready in Laney’s head, ready to be marked off one by one. First, there was cleaning the floors, the bathrooms, and dusting the ceilings. Then, after the scraps from “father” were placed in front of her like a present, it was time for her schoolwork.