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No one knows my parents are dead.

No one knows how depressed I am. I think this is all my fault. If I hadn't let my guilt and sadness and frustration and low self-esteem get to me so much...maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe I wouldn't have chosen to work for her.

Today Stephen seemed to steer clear of me, like he was afraid to get too close. Good. Maybe this wasn't all bad. But I don't think I want to work for her anymore.

Stephen may have been timid, but at lunch he got several of his buddies to come after me. I know I shouldn't have let her have control again, but I had no choice. I had to defend myself.

This was the last time. I swear.

This group of bullies came after me and harassed me while I sat trying to eat. I told them to leave me alone, but they wouldn't. None of the teachers were paying any attention.

They pulled me out of my seat, dragging me to the floor. I found myself floating inches off the floor, my limbs hanging limply. Then my whole body swung toward them.

Three of them were knocked to the floor. I spun around and my arms stretched out, socking the other two in the face. I descended.

My feet firmly on the floor again, I ran out of the cafeteria, with everyone else staring at me in surprise.

I've been expelled. Ironically enough, for bullying.

The Queen picked me up, driving my mother's vehicle. No one knew the difference.

We're home again. I think she knows that I am beginning to resist. Whenever she speaks to me now, it's in a flat, curt tone, rather than a sweet, motherly one.

A little while ago I felt the pull on the strings tighten a little. She's definitely mad at me. I don't know what she'll do if I tell her I want out of this mess. I don't think she'll let me go.