They called me Beauty.

I suppose my parents had conveniently forgot the thing hanging between my legs when I was born. Or perhaps, they had really hoped for a girl and not me. After all a boy, beautiful, like a waif, didn't suite any purpose, but a girl like me would have brought quite many suitors and money.

After all, even if anyone said anything different, it didn't change the fact that in this era, girls when born, were to be beautiful so that they could bring money and better connections to the family.

And men?

They were to be big and strong and f**k anything that moved.

And of course let's not forget his wife. His poor, beautiful wife that should tolerate every injustice done to her and still love a brute like him.

I hated it.

I hated it when the town's men talked about a girl in such filthy manner. I hated it when they talked about it being a pity that I was a man and how it would be better if I were a girl.

And the thing I hated the most was that my so called mother and father agreed with them.

'So called' mother?

My step mother. My real mother died a year after my birth, after which my father married. I don't quite remember her but she must have had the same thing in mind when she gave me my name.

Sorry, did you expect me to love her. Remember her with fondness? No I didn't. She was dead. It was hard to bond with some who didn't exist. She was literally a stranger to me. I learned early that my only family, my father, loved his new wife and her two daughters more than the son that he already had. So, I did what I had to. I gave up hope and forgot that they were my family. When father was away on his job I acted as I wanted. I didn't care anymore.

I bullied my stepmother and sisters. Treated them like dirt. When they tried to hit me I hit them back. So what if they were women? If they tried to treat like a servant then I would treat them no better.

I was no pushover.

And so, now I was banished to the attic, a month before my eighteenth birthday because the two crazy women who I had to call sisters, had tried to drown me. In turn, I had let them stay naked in the river, the very next morning when they had gone to take bath by stealing their clothes. Oh yeah, and I had also dropped a hint to the men in the pubs about ladies, river and no clothes. Old trick. But hey, it worked like a charm.

And that, had upset daddy dearest resulting in a fight that had ended up with me suffering with a bruised rib and a black eye. Their bloody being seen by the town's men was more important than me drowning. Oh, and I wasn't supposed to take revenge for such a small matter.

Well f**k them running.

As usual then, that morning daddy dearest left town for work and it was again me with the three ugly ducklings. He oh so sweetly and as usual asked them about what they wanted on his return while he gave my his stinky eye as he left.

Like that scared me.

I was happy to stay up in the attic. It spared me from their incessant whining.

"Beauty!" The bat shit crazy lady shouted once my dad left.

Hah! Did she think that I was scared now? Going down I looked at her with a droll stare.

"Yes, your majesty?"

I suppose sarcasm flew above her head as she looked at me with trumpet in her eyes.

"You heard what your father said. You cannot act like that with us! How dare did you do that to your sisters? You...." I didn't bother to listen after that. It all started to sound like blah blah till it grated my ears.

"Listen women!" I snapped tired at her blabbering. "I don't care what he said nor do I care enough to give a damn about you. Shut your God damn trap or I'll shut it for you!"

She looked at me with slight fear in her eye. I relaxed feeling slightly satisfied at that. I might have been slight, five feet five in height but that didn't mean that she could mess with me. A small part of me was insanely happy that I still could make this ass's legs tremble in fear.

Turning, I left the house to roam. House, yes. It was no home to me. I didn't like the town was an understatement. I detested it. The walk took me through the woods to the meadow that I had discovered by chance. Sitting there, relaxing under the shade I could let go of all the tension that I had accumulated through the week.

"So, mister. What happened this time?" came a voice behind me.

Instead of freaking out I relaxed further.

"Hey Martha."

Martha was the local barker's daughter.Remember my rant about the mistreated wife? That was her. Married to the butcherer had served her an eternal torcher as the main course with his cheating as the starter and her one sided love as the dessert. It was like a horribly planned meal.

Honestly I don't remember how many times had I encouraged her to run away. I had also told her that I would come with her and we could pretend to be husband and wife. Same as always, when the topic came up she would give me the sad smile and say:

"The body always yearns to return where the heart lies."

If I wasn't so sad I would have smacked her with the same sentence.

"So what happened?" She asked.

"Same old." I replied with a slight smirk.

"My lovely old man warned me to stay away from his precious daughters and if I didn't he would break my legs."

"Beau..."

I shook my head as I looked at her. I didn't want her sympathy. Honestly our conditions were far to alike that we both knew better than to moan and groan about how fate hated us blah blah...

"What about you?" I asked looking at her. She gave me the do you even need to ask stare.

"What's new? Mason got drunk, found a girl and brought her home to put a hole in the bed."

I winced at the smile that she gave and patted the ground next to me. I put my arms around her as she did the same as we stared at the wild flowers swaying with the wind. I wondered if there was any 'up' to our situation.

Could it turn worst?

No. That wasn't it. Would it turn worst? That was what I wondered. Honestly then, even a fool would have told me that, that particular question was best not asked.

Why?

Because, as always, the worst was yet to come.