Waiting On Midnight
Sometimes in this houseI feel like Cinderella—just without the dress,just without the ball,just the chores.
The bathroom sink full of someone else’s hair,water all over the floor,trash overflowing—and somehow,it’s always my job to clean it.
I’m used to it…but it’s still not right.
I try to be kind—I really do.But kindness here is one-sided.I give,they take.I care,they don’t.
My sisters don’t even like me… why?I don’t even know why.Still trying to figure that out.But sometimes people decide who you arebefore they ever try to know you.
They are those people.
And my foster mom…she just wants the house clean.
Not my feelings.Not my heart.Just this house.
Some days—while cleaning a mess I didn’t makeI think about that old story.
The girl with the chores.The girl nobody noticed.The girl waiting for her life to change.
And there goes a spark…Cinderella.
But my fairy godmother doesn’t come with glitter or a wand.
Mine is God.
The only one who sees mewhen everyone else looks past me.
And somewhere two hours awaysomeone is waiting to see me.
Someone who actually caresif I’m okay.
My Prince Charming.
So I watch the clock.
Because one daythe clock will strike midnight—
Not at a ballroom,but on November 26,my special day.
And on that day,I won’t be turning into a princess.I’ll be turning into someonewho is finally free.
Walking out of this houseand into the life God has been saving for me.
D