My life changed (part 1)

My life changed shortly after my seventeenth birthday. That's when my new mother, Cyrilla, and her daughter Jane moved in. Jane was of my age, and I suppose that under different circumstances, we might have ended up as good friends, as sisters perhaps, and I'm sure that's what dad had in mind. A new, happy family. Unfortunately, that's not how it went for me.

But let me start from the beginning. I'd lived together with my dad for thirteen years at that point. I was an only child, and my mother died in a car accident when I was young. It was probably not the happiest childhood one could imagine; my dad was always a taciturn man, and more so after mum's death. Still, he took good care of me and I lacked for nothing. Then at some point he met Cyrilla, and things started changing. At first, the changes seemed good; he smiled more and seemed more energetic. So I was happy for him. But after I met Cyrilla a few times, I started realizing she didn't like me much. She never openly showed it, and acted friendly enough, so it was hard to pinpoint why exactly I knew she disliked me - but I knew it was true. To be honest, I wasn't even sure she loved dad, and secretly suspected she wanted my dad for his money, although I'm not certain of this. Dad has a high position in his company and earns a high salary, which over the years has accumulated to us being quite wealthy. Anyway, dad was head over heels in love with Cyrilla, so talking to him about it was pointless - he would never believe a bad word about her. As for Jane, I can only conclude that she was simply jealous of me. And if you think about it, it wasn't that unreasonable. I don't want to brag, really, but the fact is that I 'had it all': I was attractive, intelligent and rich (at least, my dad was rich). Jane isn't ugly, exactly, but neither is she attractive; and at the time she suffered a lot from acne, which didn't help.

So as I said, Cyrilla and Jane came to live with us. I wasn't really happy about it, but there was nothing I could do or say to dissuade dad. Maybe I would have tried harder if I knew just how my life was going to change, but I doubt it would have made a difference. Anyway, it happened as it did, and I now had a new 'mother'. Cyrilla insists that I call her 'mum', but in my mind she'll always be Cyrilla. But that's not the only thing she's adamant on. From day one she also interfered with my clothes. I liked wearing dresses that accentuated my good looks, but she would have none of it. She claimed I had to be more modest, and that I was also not appropriately dressed for the weather. It was September at the time, so it wasn't exactly cold, but from then on I had to wear long, baggy pants with a long-sleeved shirt and a thick, hooded sweatshirt over the top, thus obscuring most of my pretty body. And every excuse was good to have me wear the hood of my sweater - whenever it was a bit cool, or cloudy, or windy, Cyrilla would tell me to wear my hood. But that wasn't all: she had a strict rule that every time I wore my hood, it had to be tied around my face. A tied hood looks ridiculous, and I'm sure that was her intention. Jane and I went to the same school and walked together every day, so there was no way I could take my hood off without Cyrilla knowing. Even during breaks at school I had to wear my hood up every time, with Jane watching me like a hawk and checking if it was tight enough. I complained to dad, of course, but it was pointless. It seemed as if dad had completely lost his wits, at least on the subject of Cyrilla.

After a week Cyrilla took me shopping, because I needed more 'appropriate' clothes. We were out the entire afternoon, with Cyrilla bossing me around, telling me what to try on, and deciding what to buy. With my dad's credit card, of course. But there was nothing I could do about it; I protested often, but she just brushed off my protests in her sweet, soothing voice (how I hate that voice) while making it clear that if my dad got involved, he would side with her. Although the day was bright and sunny, she made me wear my hood the whole time, even while inside the shops. I only got to take it off when trying on another sweatshirt - of which I then had to put the hood up immediately, every time. After we had acquired enough sweatshirts, Cyrilla said I needed a proper raincoat as well. Eventually she found something to her liking (but not mine!): a raincoat, rain pants, and rubber boots, all in bright yellow. She made me put everything on right there, and put the hood up and tie it, of course. When I had everything on, she walked me over to a mirror and said, again in her horribly sweet voice: "Don't you look nice in that, dear? You'll be so well protected from the rain. From now on, you'll get to wear this outfit on every rainy day, Nina. And you'll get to keep it on the whole day. Because every time I tell you what to wear, you stay like that the whole day. Every break, every time you're outside. So even if it's not raining, if I tell you to wear your rainclothes, you'll wear them the whole day. Understood, missy?"

Aghast, I stared at my own reflection. This was just too much for me. I looked ridiculous, like a five year old kid dressed up for the rain. I untied the tapes of the hood and took it down. "I'm not gonna wear this," I shouted angrily, as I took off the raincoat and threw it on the floor. "Forget it. Not in a million years!" Cyrilla calmly looked on as I kicked off the rubber boots and pulled the rainpants off. "Oh no?" she said with her friendly smile. "I'll make you an offer, Nina. Either you take those clothes to the counter like a good little girl, so I can pay them, and then we go home. Or you keep throwing a tantrum, and then we'll also buy those rainclothes, but you'll get to wear them the rest of the day. Which is it gonna be?" Wear those rainclothes? With this nice weather? "You're crazy," I hissed, and turned away to stalk out of the shop. I didn't get far. After I took two steps she grabbed my arm and forced me to face her. "Now think very well on what you're going to do or say, missy. I can do whatever I want, and you know it. I can cut your allowance. I can ground you for a month, or longer. While denying you access to computer or television. Woud you enjoy that? If I tell your father you're to be punished, he'll believe me. I could make up whatever story I wanted, and he'd accept it. You know it's true, don't you? Or do you want to find out the hard way?"

I stared at her evil, smiling face, and my anger ebbed away. Only now did I realize how dangerous Cyrilla was. She was right. She could do any of those things. She could make my life hell. Just imagine, every single day not getting to do anything other than going to school. No free time, ever. No computer or television to divert my mind. She could do it. I had never felt so utterly defeated, and she saw it in my eyes. Her grin widened, and in a voice dripping with honey, she said: "Now dear, why don't you pick up your rainclothes, and we'll go up to the cashier. Then after that, you can put on your lovely new rainclothes right away, you lucky girl." And so it happened. My mind blank, I picked up the clothes and carried them to the counter. "Don't put them in a bag, please. Nina wants to wear her new clothes," Cyrilla said, and as soon as the rain pants were checked she handed them to me. Without a word, I put them on, followed by the rubber boots. Finally I donned my yellow raincoat, put the hood up and tied it over my sweatshirt hood. The cashier could only stare at me open-mouthed, but said nothing.

Of course, we didn't go straight home after that. Cyrilla walked me in and out of some more shops, although she bought nothing else. Finally we had a drink on a terrace out in the sun. The whole time, people were staring at me and commenting on my outfit, as though I was no longer a person who could hear them, but just a curiosity, an odd-looking object. While we were having our drink, Cyrilla told me: "You see, you don't like it when I have to punish you. Let this be a lesson for you. You will never refute me or argue against me again. The only thing you'll accomplish is punishment. You also won't complain to your father about this ever again. You wouldn't sway him anyway, but I don't want you nagging him all the time. If I hear you've been talking to him about me or the way I treat you, you'll be punished much harder than today - harder than you can imagine. In fact, if you complain against anyone, you can expect the same punishment. A teacher, a friend - it doesn't matter. If I ever find out you tell people that you don't like how I treat you, you'll be very sorry. If anyone wonders about your change in clothing style, you'll pretend it's your own choice and you're happy about it. Have I made myself clear?"

Dejectedly, I nodded. I felt like a trapped mouse.
"Say 'Yes, Mum'," Cyrilla urged.
"Yes, Mum."
Smiling, Cyrilla leaned back in her chair.



-- on to part 2 --







Overview