Once upon a time, in a peaceful, prosperous kingdom, there lived a widowed gentleman and his little daughter, Cinderella. Her father went above and beyond to give her the best, but always knew she needed a mother's love and care, so he married again, a woman of a good family, who had two daughters, just Cinderella's age. Upon the demise of her father, Cinderella was abused, humiliated, and finally forced to become a servant in her own house, to her stepmother and step sisters.
Though the times were rough, she held onto life waiting on a miracle, and when the invitation to a ball arrived, the prince of the kingdom became hope personified. Rumor had it that he would choose his future queen that night, and this was the breakthrough that could change her life. Cinderella built on her hopes through the hobby she’d learned to find solace in when she was reduced to cinders after she’d slaved the day away. Every stitch she made sparked a fire in her, and with the big day in mind, she spent hours tailoring what would be her proudest work yet, but it was soon doused out.
Blinded by their jealousy, her stepsisters could not see beauty; neither within themselves nor in the dress she’d made. With every layer they tore away, they ripped apart the little hope she had left. Her confidence shattered as the pearls on her necklace scattered. Cinderella’s dreams crumbled to dust but she knew she’d have to clean that up herself too, after all, what was she but a maid? There was nothing left to believe in, or so she convinced herself until she felt a gentle embrace that stopped the tears that were streaming down her face.
The comfort that she initially felt was soon replaced by a twinge of disappointment when she realized that her fairy godmother was not here to make a miracle happen; the cloaked woman instead believed that Cinderella was, in fact, the miracle. With every moment that passed by trying to make her see that her stepmother was stepping all over her and she had so much potential left to uncover, she felt more restless knowing that the minutes were inching towards the hour of the ball. Her fairy godmother felt her fleeting thoughts and knew that the only way her chest would loosen was if she helped her tighten the corset. She crafted a ball gown out of the rose-colored shreds of fabric she had on and pinned her hair in an updo that weighed more than the thoughts of her dream life slipping away from her. The carriage and horses could never compare to the birds and mice that were drawn like a moth to the light in her eyes. Glass heels would hurt, but she thought she’d save Cinderella from most of it by making the magic wear away when the clock struck midnight. With a warning and a flair of her wand, she was gone.
Dressed in her beautiful ball gown, Cinderella stepped into the castle. She caught everyone's attention while the Prince was mesmerized by her poise and ethereal grace. He asked her hand for a dance around the court. She began to fall for who she thought was a Prince even at heart, while he only looked at her physical beauty, the external art. The dance ended and the two roamed the gardens unacquainted. The prince bragged about being royalty and tried to lure her by dangling the joy of wealth and power. The clock struck twelve and Cinderella rather confused, left the castle before all of her attire fell apart. As she rushed out, her glass heel slipped off her feet just like the her foolish beliefs of the Prince slipped off her mind.
The Prince swayed away by her exuberant appearance, promised he will marry none but the girl who fits the glass slipper. Elated, the King ordered the Grand Duke to try the shoe on every girl in the kingdom until he found a match. The Grand Duke appeared in front of Cinderella’s doorstep hoping to find “the girl” to fit into the dainty glass slipper. Cinderella slid her foot into the glass slipper, only for it to crack and break into pieces. The glass slipper was not the only thing that shattered; her dreams of running away with the prince also withered away. He also took away her safety net and her means of escape. The shards of broken glass befriended her broken heart as she sat in her attic, tucked away in her bed, trying to figure out where it all went wrong.
The last straw was drawn of her patience or so she thought, for she knew waiting for something to happen and doing nothing, is no patience at all, but blindness. She’d been waiting to live life, waiting for a prince charming, to come take her far away from the life she so despised. In all the time that she spent waiting, never once did she think of the power within her to change her fate, for she believed in some magical escape, the belief that all she could do was wait. All that had happened to her so far, the bad hand that had been dealt to her in life, wasn’t as painful as now knowing that all this time, she could have been free, free of all the misery that so far her life had been. She was now grateful for that pain, grateful that fate had failed for she knew now that her life is not to be endured, but to be made. Not swayed by his charming ways, she saw the prince for who he was, he was no prince charming but a charlatan, who sold broken promises and empty words, and false hope in the name of “Love”. She thought to herself “How did I not see this?”, for she shared a home with the worst as All the liars and tricksters in the world don’t compare to this “family” of hers. She left this broken place, the broken people, the shattered slippers, and her daydream. They all made for a beautiful mess, of which she was now free.
Comments