I AM THE AUTHOR

CHAPTER THREE 

But the fact that she had to get put under extreme stress to get her powers …! Stress got form when her father sold her out to slave traders for coin! No! I mentally sobbed as I looked at my reflection. But the beautiful crystal eyes cleared my head. Was this the power of the main character? Ma'am! You were born in the wrong era! If you had been born in my world, you could have built a mansion just by wearing a dress! 

But I was really curious about her genes. She got her red hair and eyes from her father, and everything else from her mom. Nice. Looks like this kid won the lottery for genes - power and looks. wow! save some for the rest of us! 

Tsk, tsk, such a waste of talent. It's a shame she died at the age of 20. Anyway, I turned around when I heard a knock at the door. I wasn't even going to try acting like Cordelia because her attitude was what had gotten her killed in the original novel. Was this my karma for cackling at the sad ending back then while the comments were busy crying….? Probably. But I can't waste my time thinking about something that has already happened. Im going to juice this new chance that I have with power for every. single. penny. it's worth. 

"What is it?" I asked, and the door was slammed open. 

There stood Cordelia's dad, I guess. I had written it in as her mom who had died while giving birth to her, and her dad had hidden her away in a room. he even had to work for her own food at the age of 8. What kind of sicko does that…? If that's why im not chubby enough for an 8-year-old? I was thinking I was a bit too skinny. I thought, looking at my fingers. Yeah, I'd seen newborns chubbier than this. 

"You. Why are you not outside yet?" the man growled, and I frowned. "I could be asking you the same thing, father. Aren't you supposed to be doing better things right now, aside from holding that bottle of whiskey in your hands?" Ha ha. cheek. But I noticed one word in particular felt unused on Cordelia's tongue. The word father. Rusty, abandoned. 

Ah, I was really feeling the guilt now. Mostly because I had laughed at Cordelia being a pushover a few seconds ago. Even if this was just a book, I had still doomed someone to this kind of life. 

But I didnt have any more time to think about that, because a hand flew across my cheek. A slap. In surprise, I was thrown next to the window, my elbow the only thing propping me up and saving me from busting my kneecaps again. "Ungrateful brat. What's got into you today? Don't you know your place?" The man asked, grabbing me by the hair. I was just an inch away from his long nose. RUbbing my cheek, I frowned. One hand was inching near my foot, pulling off one hole-riddled clump. "Rest assured, I know my place. Simply that it's above yours." I said and with that, I smacked him in the eye. A small plume of dust resonated, and I took the chance to swipe at the hand holding my hair with the clump too. More dust. The man's hand fell off, and I dashed out the window, not even bothering to claw it open all the way. I just jumped out halfway. 

"YOU RAT! GET BACK HERE!" The man screamed, and I dashed away, my barefoot pricked by the cobblestones. I was laughing now. In my old life, I hadn't dared to pick up my bags and tell everyone that I wanted to write, and not be a biologist - especially not my parents. But none of that mattered here. I was free! Finally.