The screams tore through the flimsy peace of my fantasy. “Lily!”

My father’s wife, Lena, was relentless. Just as I clung to the edges of a dream where sunlight was kind and leaves danced for me, a shock of icy water drenched me. I gasped, shivering, the tattered clothes I wore offering no protection against the sudden cold.

“Oh you worthless thing! How long do I have to scream at the top of my voice before you can become free from your dumbness!” she shrieked, her voice a grating assault.

I tried to apologize, to explain, but her words cut me off: “I am not and would never be your mother! Quit irritating me!”

Fear constricted my throat, and I simply nodded, my teeth chattering. “Go fill up those drums!” she commanded, turning away.

As soon as she was gone, I collapsed to my knees, tears blurring my vision. “Dear God, fasten the days please,” I sobbed, the familiar ache in my chest a constant companion. My eighteenth birthday, my freedom, felt like an eternity away.