Cinderella.

As told by me.

(Only the first part, other part will come later today after school.)

Cinderella’s skin prickled against the cold chill of the morning air, her breath rising in a thick fog above her face as she sat there quietly, shivering slightly as a icy breeze blew the blanket hanging over her shoulders out, letting the cold hit her bare back. She squinted up at the dark blue sky, the stars winking in and out as the rising sun rose and overpowered them. They would be calling her soon, wanting their breakfast and their baths.
She slowly lifted herself off the dark, aged, stone bench, letting her numb hands slip around her torso, pulling the blanket tight against her skin. The roses around the garden had all died over the passing years, the once elegant stonar statues, fountains and benches had become cracked and most lay in pieces around the small courtyard. Weeds had taken over the dirt, growing up the marble pillars and crack glass windows to the green house. The trees had grown mangled and most bore no leaves, even in the spring, but instead were grown over with thorned vines that seemed to reach out at you when you walked by. A large house loomed over the pitiful garden, the walls sunken in from years of bad weather and poor upkeep. Once, long ago when her father had ran the household, it was a glorious sight. Now, though, the house had turned an awful yellow color, the paint chipped from the walls and the stone crumbled to the cracked pavement below.
She didn’t turn when the back door behind her crashed open, a shrill voice calling her name from behind. “Coming.." She called back, finally tearing herself away from her thoughts. When she turned, she curtsied politely to the hideous, short figure in front of the doorway. “Good morning Drizzela. You’re looking lovely this morning." She lied. It seemed her step sister had gotten even uglier from the night before. Drizzela, along with her sister, had never been pretty, inside or out. Their frizzy dark hair outlined their pale, mole covered faces. Their noses seemed to be too big for their face and they both had the same small, dark eyes that reminded Cinderella of those on rats.
If there was one thing she hated more than her step family, it was rats. It seemed like the house was full of them, always crawling over her while she slept and biting her fingers and toes. She shook herself, letting a few loose strands of blond hair fall from her loose bun. She walked through the small door frame, into the dark dining room. The room smelled mostly of ash, and seemed to be sprinkled with it as well. The decaying wood table in the center of the room was filthy with ash from the fireplace as was the rest of the room. The chimney hadn’t been swept in a decade or more, and she found that the more they used it, the more it seemed to douse the room in a thick black air.
To one side of the table sat her other step sister, Anastasia, who was almost identical to Drizzela, but with a bit more weight on her. To the right of her sat Cinderella’s step mother. Her very presence seemed to suck the heat from the already brisk room. She sat there, with the same smile she gave Cinderella every morning. A cruel hateful showing of sharp, yellow teeth and pale pink lips. Her face was the color of new snow, her dark gray hair billowed out every which way and she had the same eyes as her daughters. She tapped a few of her yellowish black fingernails on the table top, her way of showing impatience.
Quickly, Cinderella walked into the kitchen, grabbing the stained silver trays from the counter she had prepared earlier and bringing them back through the door in one swift motion. She placed them on the table gently, bowing slightly but not daring to utter a word. Her step mother seemed pleased, as she waved her dismissal to Cinderella without looking over. Glad to have escaped punishment, she turned from the table and looked around the large room. She sighed to herself, walking to the corner and bending down to her knees in front of a bucket of dirty, brown water and a sponge.
Silently, she went about her chore of scrubbing the floors, swishing the black liquid around the cracked tile, leaving black swirls where there had once been ash. She lost herself in her daydreams, singing silently in her mind as she tended to do while she was cleaning. Her mind served as a sanctuary, a place she could run from life and be someone else.
Just as quickly as she had submerged herself in her thoughts, she was puled back out. Her stepmother yelled at her in her cold, whiny voice to go answer the door. Cinderella nodded and got to her feet, her legs and arms covered with black soot that made her skin itch and burn. She ignored it and walked to the front of the house, gathering her over sized dress from around her feet before swinging the door open. It creaked loudly on the rusty hinges, exposing a man dressed in a red outfit. She gave a kind smile to the man. “Hello." She mumbled politely, grabbing the letter from him. He only grunted before turning to leave.
She glanced down at the handful of letters. There were four of them, addressed to all the woman in the house. She drew her brows together in confusion as she pushed the door closed roughly with her foot. She knew what it was for, but was surprised to see one to herself. She smiled hopelessly as she slid her thumb across the letter with her name, leaving a dark smudge across the wax seal. She had only a moment to fantasize before the letters were ripped from her grasp. Her step sisters were gaping over her, fighting over the letters viciously. Gasping, she desperately reached towards the letter, attempting to grab it back before they saw it, but was too late. Her stepmother had made her way into the hall and was reaching for the now crinkled up mass of notes.

Green_Ninja wrote: As told by me.

(Only the first part, other part will come later today after school.)

Cinderella’s skin prickled against the cold chill of the morning air, her breath rising in a thick fog above her face as she sat there quietly, shivering slightly as a icy breeze blew the blanket hanging over her shoulders out, letting the cold hit her bare back. She squinted up at the dark blue sky, the stars winking in and out as the rising sun rose and overpowered them. They would be calling her soon, wanting their breakfast and their baths.
She slowly lifted herself off the dark, aged, stone bench, letting her numb hands slip around her torso, pulling the blanket tight against her skin. The roses around the garden had all died over the passing years, the once elegant stonar statues, fountains and benches had become cracked and most lay in pieces around the small courtyard. Weeds had taken over the dirt, growing up the marble pillars and crack glass windows to the green house. The trees had grown mangled and most bore no leaves, even in the spring, but instead were grown over with thorned vines that seemed to reach out at you when you walked by. A large house loomed over the pitiful garden, the walls sunken in from years of bad weather and poor upkeep. Once, long ago when her father had ran the household, it was a glorious sight. Now, though, the house had turned an awful yellow color, the paint chipped from the walls and the stone crumbled to the cracked pavement below.
She didn’t turn when the back door behind her crashed open, a shrill voice calling her name from behind. “Coming.." She called back, finally tearing herself away from her thoughts. When she turned, she curtsied politely to the hideous, short figure in front of the doorway. “Good morning Drizzela. You’re looking lovely this morning." She lied. It seemed her step sister had gotten even uglier from the night before. Drizzela, along with her sister, had never been pretty, inside or out. Their frizzy dark hair outlined their pale, mole covered faces. Their noses seemed to be too big for their face and they both had the same small, dark eyes that reminded Cinderella of those on rats.
If there was one thing she hated more than her step family, it was rats. It seemed like the house was full of them, always crawling over her while she slept and biting her fingers and toes. She shook herself, letting a few loose strands of blond hair fall from her loose bun. She walked through the small door frame, into the dark dining room. The room smelled mostly of ash, and seemed to be sprinkled with it as well. The decaying wood table in the center of the room was filthy with ash from the fireplace as was the rest of the room. The chimney hadn’t been swept in a decade or more, and she found that the more they used it, the more it seemed to douse the room in a thick black air.
To one side of the table sat her other step sister, Anastasia, who was almost identical to Drizzela, but with a bit more weight on her. To the right of her sat Cinderella’s step mother. Her very presence seemed to suck the heat from the already brisk room. She sat there, with the same smile she gave Cinderella every morning. A cruel hateful showing of sharp, yellow teeth and pale pink lips. Her face was the color of new snow, her dark gray hair billowed out every which way and she had the same eyes as her daughters. She tapped a few of her yellowish black fingernails on the table top, her way of showing impatience.
Quickly, Cinderella walked into the kitchen, grabbing the stained silver trays from the counter she had prepared earlier and bringing them back through the door in one swift motion. She placed them on the table gently, bowing slightly but not daring to utter a word. Her step mother seemed pleased, as she waved her dismissal to Cinderella without looking over. Glad to have escaped punishment, she turned from the table and looked around the large room. She sighed to herself, walking to the corner and bending down to her knees in front of a bucket of dirty, brown water and a sponge.
Silently, she went about her chore of scrubbing the floors, swishing the black liquid around the cracked tile, leaving black swirls where there had once been ash. She lost herself in her daydreams, singing silently in her mind as she tended to do while she was cleaning. Her mind served as a sanctuary, a place she could run from life and be someone else.
Just as quickly as she had submerged herself in her thoughts, she was puled back out. Her stepmother yelled at her in her cold, whiny voice to go answer the door. Cinderella nodded and got to her feet, her legs and arms covered with black soot that made her skin itch and burn. She ignored it and walked to the front of the house, gathering her over sized dress from around her feet before swinging the door open. It creaked loudly on the rusty hinges, exposing a man dressed in a red outfit. She gave a kind smile to the man. “Hello." She mumbled politely, grabbing the letter from him. He only grunted before turning to leave.
She glanced down at the handful of letters. There were four of them, addressed to all the woman in the house. She drew her brows together in confusion as she pushed the door closed roughly with her foot. She knew what it was for, but was surprised to see one to herself. She smiled hopelessly as she slid her thumb across the letter with her name, leaving a dark smudge across the wax seal. She had only a moment to fantasize before the letters were ripped from her grasp. Her step sisters were gaping over her, fighting over the letters viciously. Gasping, she desperately reached towards the letter, attempting to grab it back before they saw it, but was too late. Her stepmother had made her way into the hall and was reaching for the now crinkled up mass of notes.

I like it alot, I really do. In fact it has inspired me to do a retelling of the old fairytales with a modern twist. I already wrote a tale about Cupid who was a man who ginned down many a person in his apartment building much to the unknown motives at the time, however it was revealed in the end that he was cupid and the people he shot were found upon his return to be in love and living happily.

Another I wrote in a similar vain about a man who woke up to find out he was death and everyone he touched later on died.

good work Becky

firewolf81 wrote:

Green_Ninja wrote: As told by me.

(Only the first part, other part will come later today after school.)

Cinderella’s skin prickled against the cold chill of the morning air, her breath rising in a thick fog above her face as she sat there quietly, shivering slightly as a icy breeze blew the blanket hanging over her shoulders out, letting the cold hit her bare back. She squinted up at the dark blue sky, the stars winking in and out as the rising sun rose and overpowered them. They would be calling her soon, wanting their breakfast and their baths.
She slowly lifted herself off the dark, aged, stone bench, letting her numb hands slip around her torso, pulling the blanket tight against her skin. The roses around the garden had all died over the passing years, the once elegant stonar statues, fountains and benches had become cracked and most lay in pieces around the small courtyard. Weeds had taken over the dirt, growing up the marble pillars and crack glass windows to the green house. The trees had grown mangled and most bore no leaves, even in the spring, but instead were grown over with thorned vines that seemed to reach out at you when you walked by. A large house loomed over the pitiful garden, the walls sunken in from years of bad weather and poor upkeep. Once, long ago when her father had ran the household, it was a glorious sight. Now, though, the house had turned an awful yellow color, the paint chipped from the walls and the stone crumbled to the cracked pavement below.
She didn’t turn when the back door behind her crashed open, a shrill voice calling her name from behind. “Coming.." She called back, finally tearing herself away from her thoughts. When she turned, she curtsied politely to the hideous, short figure in front of the doorway. “Good morning Drizzela. You’re looking lovely this morning." She lied. It seemed her step sister had gotten even uglier from the night before. Drizzela, along with her sister, had never been pretty, inside or out. Their frizzy dark hair outlined their pale, mole covered faces. Their noses seemed to be too big for their face and they both had the same small, dark eyes that reminded Cinderella of those on rats.
If there was one thing she hated more than her step family, it was rats. It seemed like the house was full of them, always crawling over her while she slept and biting her fingers and toes. She shook herself, letting a few loose strands of blond hair fall from her loose bun. She walked through the small door frame, into the dark dining room. The room smelled mostly of ash, and seemed to be sprinkled with it as well. The decaying wood table in the center of the room was filthy with ash from the fireplace as was the rest of the room. The chimney hadn’t been swept in a decade or more, and she found that the more they used it, the more it seemed to douse the room in a thick black air.
To one side of the table sat her other step sister, Anastasia, who was almost identical to Drizzela, but with a bit more weight on her. To the right of her sat Cinderella’s step mother. Her very presence seemed to suck the heat from the already brisk room. She sat there, with the same smile she gave Cinderella every morning. A cruel hateful showing of sharp, yellow teeth and pale pink lips. Her face was the color of new snow, her dark gray hair billowed out every which way and she had the same eyes as her daughters. She tapped a few of her yellowish black fingernails on the table top, her way of showing impatience.
Quickly, Cinderella walked into the kitchen, grabbing the stained silver trays from the counter she had prepared earlier and bringing them back through the door in one swift motion. She placed them on the table gently, bowing slightly but not daring to utter a word. Her step mother seemed pleased, as she waved her dismissal to Cinderella without looking over. Glad to have escaped punishment, she turned from the table and looked around the large room. She sighed to herself, walking to the corner and bending down to her knees in front of a bucket of dirty, brown water and a sponge.
Silently, she went about her chore of scrubbing the floors, swishing the black liquid around the cracked tile, leaving black swirls where there had once been ash. She lost herself in her daydreams, singing silently in her mind as she tended to do while she was cleaning. Her mind served as a sanctuary, a place she could run from life and be someone else.
Just as quickly as she had submerged herself in her thoughts, she was puled back out. Her stepmother yelled at her in her cold, whiny voice to go answer the door. Cinderella nodded and got to her feet, her legs and arms covered with black soot that made her skin itch and burn. She ignored it and walked to the front of the house, gathering her over sized dress from around her feet before swinging the door open. It creaked loudly on the rusty hinges, exposing a man dressed in a red outfit. She gave a kind smile to the man. “Hello." She mumbled politely, grabbing the letter from him. He only grunted before turning to leave.
She glanced down at the handful of letters. There were four of them, addressed to all the woman in the house. She drew her brows together in confusion as she pushed the door closed roughly with her foot. She knew what it was for, but was surprised to see one to herself. She smiled hopelessly as she slid her thumb across the letter with her name, leaving a dark smudge across the wax seal. She had only a moment to fantasize before the letters were ripped from her grasp. Her step sisters were gaping over her, fighting over the letters viciously. Gasping, she desperately reached towards the letter, attempting to grab it back before they saw it, but was too late. Her stepmother had made her way into the hall and was reaching for the now crinkled up mass of notes.

I like it alot, I really do. In fact it has inspired me to do a retelling of the old fairytales with a modern twist. I already wrote a tale about Cupid who was a man who ginned down many a person in his apartment building much to the unknown motives at the time, however it was revealed in the end that he was cupid and the people he shot were found upon his return to be in love and living happily.

Another I wrote in a similar vain about a man who woke up to find out he was death and everyone he touched later on died.

good work Becky

Yeah I’ve always wanted to do something like that and when my teacher told me it was one of the options as a writing prompt, I jumped at the opportunity.

I’d also love to read those stories if you’d ever want to share.

Green_Ninja wrote:

firewolf81 wrote:

Green_Ninja wrote: As told by me.

(Only the first part, other part will come later today after school.)

Cinderella’s skin prickled against the cold chill of the morning air, her breath rising in a thick fog above her face as she sat there quietly, shivering slightly as a icy breeze blew the blanket hanging over her shoulders out, letting the cold hit her bare back. She squinted up at the dark blue sky, the stars winking in and out as the rising sun rose and overpowered them. They would be calling her soon, wanting their breakfast and their baths.
She slowly lifted herself off the dark, aged, stone bench, letting her numb hands slip around her torso, pulling the blanket tight against her skin. The roses around the garden had all died over the passing years, the once elegant stonar statues, fountains and benches had become cracked and most lay in pieces around the small courtyard. Weeds had taken over the dirt, growing up the marble pillars and crack glass windows to the green house. The trees had grown mangled and most bore no leaves, even in the spring, but instead were grown over with thorned vines that seemed to reach out at you when you walked by. A large house loomed over the pitiful garden, the walls sunken in from years of bad weather and poor upkeep. Once, long ago when her father had ran the household, it was a glorious sight. Now, though, the house had turned an awful yellow color, the paint chipped from the walls and the stone crumbled to the cracked pavement below.
She didn’t turn when the back door behind her crashed open, a shrill voice calling her name from behind. “Coming.." She called back, finally tearing herself away from her thoughts. When she turned, she curtsied politely to the hideous, short figure in front of the doorway. “Good morning Drizzela. You’re looking lovely this morning." She lied. It seemed her step sister had gotten even uglier from the night before. Drizzela, along with her sister, had never been pretty, inside or out. Their frizzy dark hair outlined their pale, mole covered faces. Their noses seemed to be too big for their face and they both had the same small, dark eyes that reminded Cinderella of those on rats.
If there was one thing she hated more than her step family, it was rats. It seemed like the house was full of them, always crawling over her while she slept and biting her fingers and toes. She shook herself, letting a few loose strands of blond hair fall from her loose bun. She walked through the small door frame, into the dark dining room. The room smelled mostly of ash, and seemed to be sprinkled with it as well. The decaying wood table in the center of the room was filthy with ash from the fireplace as was the rest of the room. The chimney hadn’t been swept in a decade or more, and she found that the more they used it, the more it seemed to douse the room in a thick black air.
To one side of the table sat her other step sister, Anastasia, who was almost identical to Drizzela, but with a bit more weight on her. To the right of her sat Cinderella’s step mother. Her very presence seemed to suck the heat from the already brisk room. She sat there, with the same smile she gave Cinderella every morning. A cruel hateful showing of sharp, yellow teeth and pale pink lips. Her face was the color of new snow, her dark gray hair billowed out every which way and she had the same eyes as her daughters. She tapped a few of her yellowish black fingernails on the table top, her way of showing impatience.
Quickly, Cinderella walked into the kitchen, grabbing the stained silver trays from the counter she had prepared earlier and bringing them back through the door in one swift motion. She placed them on the table gently, bowing slightly but not daring to utter a word. Her step mother seemed pleased, as she waved her dismissal to Cinderella without looking over. Glad to have escaped punishment, she turned from the table and looked around the large room. She sighed to herself, walking to the corner and bending down to her knees in front of a bucket of dirty, brown water and a sponge.
Silently, she went about her chore of scrubbing the floors, swishing the black liquid around the cracked tile, leaving black swirls where there had once been ash. She lost herself in her daydreams, singing silently in her mind as she tended to do while she was cleaning. Her mind served as a sanctuary, a place she could run from life and be someone else.
Just as quickly as she had submerged herself in her thoughts, she was puled back out. Her stepmother yelled at her in her cold, whiny voice to go answer the door. Cinderella nodded and got to her feet, her legs and arms covered with black soot that made her skin itch and burn. She ignored it and walked to the front of the house, gathering her over sized dress from around her feet before swinging the door open. It creaked loudly on the rusty hinges, exposing a man dressed in a red outfit. She gave a kind smile to the man. “Hello." She mumbled politely, grabbing the letter from him. He only grunted before turning to leave.
She glanced down at the handful of letters. There were four of them, addressed to all the woman in the house. She drew her brows together in confusion as she pushed the door closed roughly with her foot. She knew what it was for, but was surprised to see one to herself. She smiled hopelessly as she slid her thumb across the letter with her name, leaving a dark smudge across the wax seal. She had only a moment to fantasize before the letters were ripped from her grasp. Her step sisters were gaping over her, fighting over the letters viciously. Gasping, she desperately reached towards the letter, attempting to grab it back before they saw it, but was too late. Her stepmother had made her way into the hall and was reaching for the now crinkled up mass of notes.

I like it alot, I really do. In fact it has inspired me to do a retelling of the old fairytales with a modern twist. I already wrote a tale about Cupid who was a man who ginned down many a person in his apartment building much to the unknown motives at the time, however it was revealed in the end that he was cupid and the people he shot were found upon his return to be in love and living happily.

Another I wrote in a similar vain about a man who woke up to find out he was death and everyone he touched later on died.

good work Becky

Yeah I’ve always wanted to do something like that and when my teacher told me it was one of the options as a writing prompt, I jumped at the opportunity.

I’d also love to read those stories if you’d ever want to share.

Sure, I will have to dig em up but as soon as I find em, I will be sure to send them your way.

Keep up the good work.

Thanks. Looking forward to reading them. ^^

that was disturbing

Link wins.

everyonebothersme wrote: that was disturbing

Why’s that?

you seem to be a very itelligent girl,with a talent for writing scripts keep practicing,you never know where it could take you

larrydaroofer wrote: you seem to be a very itelligent girl,with a talent for writing scripts keep practicing,you never know where it could take you

Thanks.

it’s very good, I wish I could write like that. Well done

Thanks Drummergirl.

BTW, if anyone has any critism, I’d love to hear it. It’s for a school asignment so the better I can write it, the higher the grade.

Part 2.
Cinderella drew herself back into a corner, trying to hide herself in the shadows as her stepmother went through the letters one by one, her strange smile beginning to stretch across her face. “Well, well.." She whispered. “It seems we finally get the invitations to the Princes Ball..." She paused, looking up at her two daughters disgusting faces, which seemed to have brightened considerably. “And look. We’re all invited." She turned her gaze to Cinderella, the two daughters turning with her, without the same smile as their mother. They seemed to be completely furious.
“MOTHER! You can’t let her go! You can’t! MOTHER!" One of them screamed. Cinderella couldn’t see which, they both seemed to just disappear from her vision as her stepmother stared at her, meeting her embarrassed gaze. Finally, her stepmother looked away, raising a brow to the screaming girls.
“Girls, stop. If Cinderella is invited, than she may go." She let her eyes fall back on Cinderella, her heart seemed to leap out of her chest.
“Oh! Really? Do you honestly mean it? Can I go?" She was almost sobbing at the thought of being at the Prince’s Ball.
“Yes, of course. Why would I lie about that?" She let out a high pitched laugh, shaking her hand somewhat oddly to the side. “You may go, child. But, of course, you will need to do your chores beforehand. Also, you’ll have to find something to wear." She lifted a finger and shook it slowly. “You simply cannot go in that dress, dear."
Cinderella looked down at her almost black dress, that was white only a few days before. She nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, stepmother." She beamed at her stepmother, whom she had almost forgotten had enslaved her for the past 6 years. “Thank you, stepmother. Thank you." With that, she had dashed out of the room back into the kitchen to finish her scrubbing. She only had a few hours before she would have to arrive. Oh how she hoped she’d make it in time.
As she reached the bucket, she threw herself down onto her knees, resuming her work quickly. Within an hour the dining room was half decent. She grinned and looked around, noticing her step sisters in the main room through the doorway. They were both getting ready for the ball. Their hair was put up in ringlets and ribbons, letting their dark hair cascade down their broad shoulders, over their dull dark blue dresses. Their faces were done up with paint, outlining their eyes thickly and dyeing their lips the color of apples. Cinderella marveled at how different they looked with all the wire and paint and fabric.
A pale hand reached from behind and touched her shoulders. She looked down and saw her step mothers sharp yellow fingernails tapping against shoulder. “My dear.." Her soft voice chimed. “Why are your chores not done yet?"
Cinderella looked over her shoulder at her, confused. “But, I did the dining room like you asked, step mother."
The womans smile returned, twisted in an unbelievably cruel way. “Yes, but now I need you to clean the chimney in there, to make sure it stays clean. Than scrub the kitchen, wash the pots, put away the clothing and make the beds. I’m afraid, with the ball so close, I’m not sure if you’ll be able to make the ball in time.."
Her heart dropped. She should have known. She stared at her step mother through tear filled eyes. The womans features were distorted, but she could make out the dark eyes and the thin red lips, smirking at her, as they always had. How could she have thought this woman, this beast, could have been nice to her?
“I.. I.." She couldn’t think of any words. Her step sisters were standing there next to her, grinning widely in a victorious manner. Without taking another glance back, she ran from the room, out into the hall and down into the garden. The dark, limbless statues loomed over her, staring down at her depressingly as she leaned against one of the bases, stroking it with her thumb.
In the distance, she could hear the faint voices of her step family, laughing and settling into the carriage. She felt foolish for believing she could go. She had dreamed of the day for years, and now here it was, and it was ruined. She could feel the warm sensation of tears rolling down her cheeks as she sobbed, clinging to the feet of a morbid looking stone man and woman dancing.

thanks i’ve been working out

White Man wrote: thanks i’ve been working out

Confused, now.

FINALLY FINISHED.

Jesus.

Ending.


She finally sunk to the gravel beneath the crumbling base, her knees given out and her body shaking from her sorrow. After what seemed like hours, she finally looked up from her hands, where she had laid her head. She almost fell off the rock she had been seated on when she saw the 3 pairs of eyes staring back at her.
Bugs. They had to be bugs. Cinderella gulped back a lump in her throat, slowly getting to her feet as the eyes followed her, flying higher into the air, their eyes staying level with hers the whole time. The stars reflected into the large, black eyes, making it seem as if she was staring into tiny universes that swirled and tumbled every time they shifted their gaze. Something about them seemed strange to her. They were unlike any other kind of insect she had seen here in the garden or in the forest.
At about a foot long, they wore a magnificent green layer of leathery scales that reflected an array of vibrant colors, even with no light. It seemed as if they illuminated it’s own light. Their heads were long, their mouths just slits and they’re bulging eyes took up most of their faces. They seemed almost like the bugs she had seen in the greenhouse during the summer. The ones she would let sit on her hands as she talked to them about her dreams and her step family and how much she wished it would be different. They seemed to be her only friends. These, though, were much to large to sit on her hand.
They stared, their heads cocking to the side as their spiked ears perked up and down, twitching as they made soft clicking noises, as if speaking to each other. She knew she should have been scared, but she was barely even aware they were there. She was hypnotized by their movements and the sounds they made. She absently reached out, stroking one’s back while it clicked in delight. She smiled to a dark green one that was on the right. “Hello, there.” She said quietly. “And who are you?” Her smile grew as it clicked and tilted it’s head forward, looking down to her body than back up.
She took a few steps back, almost tripping over the head of one of the small cupid statues, when the bug flew closer, examining her ashed clothing and face. It clicked a few times, looking over to the others. She stared, transfixed at what they seemed to be saying. Suddenly, the bugs flew away into the night.
Sighing, she leaned back against a marble pillar, letting her back slide against the cool stone as she sunk down to the gravel, lowering her head. Not even the bugs seemed to like her. Her eyes became watery again as she sat there in the silent garden. She couldn’t make herself cry, and was tired of sitting in the cold, so instead decided to go to sleep. Raising herself from the ground, she kept her head lowered as she walked through the dark courtyard, her only light illuminating from the full moon and stars looming over her.
She reached up, knowing the door would be there, and grabbed the handle, yanking the swollen door open, only to have it slam shut once again. She looked up, shocked. A dark, gray hand rested on the door above hers, it’s fingers eroded and cracking, some missing. She ran her gaze from the hand, up the arm, and finally to the neck, where a head should have laid, but was instead just jagged pieces of stone from where the head had fallen from. She caught her breath, staring up at the large statue that stood there, stopping her from going inside.
She couldn’t move, and her knees were about to give out from fear. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. She took a step back, but was stopped by something solid behind her. Slowly, she turned her head, her hands shaking violently. When her eyes adjusted to the shadow she had emerged herself in, she saw 4 large horses, all carved elaborately from black marble. Behind them lay a carriage, made from the same stone and handiwork. She blinked, staring up at the large beasts. They lightly nuzzled against her shoulder, almost asking for attention. Without realizing what she was doing, she reached up and stroked a snout. She smiled. The stone was warm and smooth.
From behind, she heard a few cracks and bangs. She turned herself around, still holding on to the stone horse. All the statues in the courtyard were now moving towards her stiffly. She knew she should have been scared, but she felt an inner calm. A horse nudged her forward, towards a lady and her child that were usually placed by the pond, which was dried up now. The child was smiling like she always was, her dress draped down her feet, making it difficult for her to walk. Her mother was holding something in her hands, fabric of some kind, and beaming towards her, holding it out for her to grab.
Cinderella smiled back, finally reaching out to grab the fabric. As she let it unfold, she noticed it was a dress. She stroked her hand across the fabric, feeling the odd texture. It wasn’t any sort of fabric she had ever seen. The silver lace seemed to be made oddly, almost like a spider web, and the bright green fabric underneath seemed to have spines. She stared for a few moments, perplexed, before looking up at the statues. Their faces were now lit by three glowing bodies around them. She smiled. The bugs were back.
She wanted to say something, but knew they wouldn’t understand her. “Thank you..” She whispered, switching her gaze back down to the dress. She was still stroking it, letting her hands follow the leaf like fabric. Finally, she let out a noisy breath. “Is this made of... Leaves?” She asked the statues and bugs, looking up at them through her eyebrows. The little girl nodded. “And... Spiderwebs..?” She added, the little girl nodding again, he smile growing.
Cinderella looked confused. “But.. How?” She asked. She didn’t get an answer. Before she knew it, the bugs had surrounded her and were now gripping around her waist and feet, gripping the fabric and pulling her dirty dress off of her. She stood there for a moment, embarrassed that she was now naked in front of so many people. People, she thought. No, they weren’t people.. statues. She looked around at all of them, the bugs pushing her through the crowd roughly, towards the center courtyard. She went willingly, no daring to make them mad.
She paused when her legs met the fountain, staring down into the clear water. A dirty, grease covered girl stared back at her. Without another thought, she was pushed roughly into the water, falling on her side, her body submerged in the ice cold water. She grabbed hold of the side of the fountain, pulling herself back to the surface, gasping for air as she looked around. All the statues were were they had been, none looked towards her but one. The little girl sat holding the dress, the bugs zooming around her excitedly.
The girl reached down, placing the dress safely on a rock before turning to Cinderella, picking up a cloth that had been sat on the edge of the fountain. The girl wiped the cloth across Cinderella’s face and body, slowly, carefully, washing off all the grime. It took awhile till she was happy with her work, but finally pulled Cinderella out of the fountain, wrapping a larger piece of cloth around her shoulders. The bugs had taken up pulling and yanking at her hair. Cinderella thought they were attacking her and tried to shoo them away, but her hands were seized when the girl began slipping the dress over her.
After a few minutes, the bugs had stopped and flown over to the horses, perched on their heads as they watch the girl buttoning up the dress. When she had finally finished, she smiled, turning Cinderella around towards the fountain. Cinderella, who was now utterly confused, looked down into the water slowly, making sure her footing was good as to not fall, or be pushed, in. She gasped in a shock of cold air. Staring back at her now was not the girl she had seen for years now. It was now her mother. She smiled, her mothers reflection smiling back at her. She wanted to reach down and touch it, but knew deep down that this was not her mother, but her own reflection.
Around the reflection, lights were swirling around her torso, shrouding her in light. She smiled again, backing out of the lights and turning towards the statues. They were lined up in two lines, one to each side of the carriage. Without thinking, she walked slowly to the carriage, the driver holding the door open. She knew the carriage was hollow. When she was younger, she used to play inside of it until her father would come get her for dinner. She scooted in, towards the other side of the seat, watching all the statues smile. The carriage jumped and started moving forward, the stone hooves of the horses clacking against the pavement. She waved to the statues as they zoomed by, the carriage gaining speed.
Within minutes, the hoses jerked to a halt, almost knocking Cinderella from her seat. She peeked her head over, out the window, and saw that she was at the palace. The dark, gloomy castle sat atop a hill, curved and spiked in wicked looking towers that pierced the sky. She shivered from just the site. Around the palace, woman in drab, dark dresses and men in black suits huddled together, commercing with one another and heading inside the castle. She let out a noisy breath and looked to the driver, who had just opened the door. She couldn’t help but smile. Half his face had worn off, and yet he could still smile that wide, toothy grin.
She took a few steps out of the coach, looking around. It was chilly, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Finally, she mustered up some courage and walked down the short stone path towards the two large double doors.
She felt odd walking through the throng of rich patrons and had to cling to the sides of her dress to stop them from shaking. Finally, she reached the large doors, looking down the tall staircase. All eyes were on her. She knew it was not because of who she was, but because of what she wore. In the sea of people wearing dark plain clothing, she was the only who bore color. Her face reddened as they whispered among themselves, pointing, some laughing at her. She felt like running away and crying. She couldn’t bare it. Turning on her heel, she ran. Or, she would have ran, if there had not been someone in the way. She stared in shock as she looked up towards him, the prince. The man she had dreamed about all her life. The man she had come to love. She stood there, her mouth gaping as he smiled down at her.
“Would you care to dance?” He asked in a smooth, silky voice. She couldn’t answer, he had already grabbed her hand and was leading her around the floor in a long, sweeping dance. She followed his lead, trying her best not to step on his feet or fall and trip him. Her dress swished against the black tile beneath her feet, adding what little color it could to the dark ball room.
The walls to the room were gray, though beautifully painted, they were plain and darkened the room, giving it a morbid feeling. She looked up at the prince, who was smiling down at her. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Her dreams were finally coming true.
She pressed her head to his chest, listening to his heart beat. The clock behind her began to toll, matching to his beating heart as she counted. One.. Two.. Three.. She counted, mouthing the words silently. Twelve strokes, she thought. It was midnight. She looked back up at the man, wanting to his smile once again, but became confused when all she saw was a shadow. She backed away, looking around the ball room. Shadows were forming from the corners and engulfing the room, creeping silently towards her. She looked all around, shouting out to the patrons, but they seemed not to notice. Panicked, she fell to her knees, throwing her head into her hands while the shadow creeped around her, throwing her her into a cold world.
Finally, she looked up, greeted by a familiar surrounding. She looked all around the courtyard, up to the statues, who were unmoved on their bases, and around to the house. It was all just a dream. She sighed to herself. It was always just a dream.