Nightmare to Fairy Tale by Jaelyn Petrove​

Being a girl and growing up with three older brothers and indifferent parents made for an excruciatingly painful childhood. Oh, not that they were excessively cruel or hurtful, because they weren't. Instead, it was the expectations that were handed down from one to the other, until it got to me, the youngest child. I was the female, the weak link, the non-athlete, the one without a penis, so there were no expectations for me other than to grow up, find a suitable husband, get married, and produce children.

I learned from a young age that both of my parents loved my older brothers more than me. It was never openly said to me, and I was not told that I was an oops baby, but one evening when I was 16, the night before Christmas when both of them were downstairs in the living room wrapping presents, I had snuck down the staircase and eavesdropped. What I heard shaped the woman I became.

"Overpriced pieces of plastic," stated my father with utter disgust, wrapping the smartphone's glittery case, "it's bordering on criminal what they charge for this junk and that we have to waste our money on it when she won't appreciate it."

Mother was placing some clothing in a box and then started to wrap it.

"Are those the . . ." and Father let the sentence trail off, his brow furrowed with mild irritation.

"Yes. Although she barely needs them, poor thing." She put the wrapped box down and hefted up her breasts slightly in both hands, father keenly watching her as she did so. "She certainly didn't inherit my genes." Father chuckled. I almost gasped aloud as I heard them making fun of my small, almost non-existent boobs. Instantly I could feel wetness forming in the corners of my eyes. At my age, most girls in school had A or B cups. Not me. My brothers called them mosquito bites.

"You aren't going to have her open that in front of the boys, are you?"

"No, certainly not," said Mother, moving the box to the side and away from the other packages. She would eventually give it to me upstairs, in my room.

"Good, because we don't need to fuel their imaginations and their cocks." Mother laughed at Father's crude comment, then reached over and put her hand on his arm, getting his attention.

"What say we finish up here and then we can go have a more detailed discussion about cocks, or, rather, a certain cock?" With that, she moved her hand from his arm to the front of his trousers and gently squeezed.

I had seen and heard too much, and silently moved back up the carpeted steps, then down the hallway to my room where I crawled into bed, pulled the covers up high, and cried myself to sleep.

I realized a couple of things that night. First, saying "I love you" doesn't mean that you truly love someone. Second, I had to get away, far away, from my so-called family.

For the next two years, I spent every possible minute advancing my education. I worked tirelessly, foregoing friends, dates, and extracurricular activities. If it was something that I could do during my time at school, I'd do it. Otherwise, I was at home, in my room, studying. I was relentless. I'd break for dinner, I'd do my assigned chores, and I'd attend church, grudgingly because I had no choice, but beyond that, I fought every attempt to pry me from my work desk. Math and science were my favorites, but I excelled in all subjects.

My mother's sister lived three houses down, so, when it came time for the annual family vacation, I balked and argued that I should be allowed to stay home with my aunt so close. I won. They didn't want me to go anyway. When they were gone, did I throw parties, invite boys over, get drunk? No. I did spend slightly more time on the bottom floor, for a change of pace, but it was all spent reading. I didn't have a television in my room and only used the internet for research. During the summer, I was able to get through many novels in under a day, but some of the longer, more complicated ones would take two, like, Don Quixote, War and Peace, and of course The Lord of the Rings. I never owned a book, but made excellent use of the library, although sometimes I had to read books online.

That was a preview of Nightmare to Fairy Tale by Jaelyn Petrove. To read the rest purchase the book.

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