Cinder wiped a tear from her cheek as she walked to her room.
Disappointment had shoved its way into her chest and wouldn’t release its grip on her. She felt suffocated by it.
She paused in the door way. Sitting on the table was a scarlet dress that hadn’t been there before. The silver threading laced in it shone in the light and the crimson gloves sat lovingly folded on the abdomen. Tucked under the fingers was a piece of parchment.
With nimble fingers she picked it up. She opened it gingerly.
Mother says pity is just a weakness of the mind. If that is the case then this is not pity. This is the need to help someone else.
Cinder exhaled slowly. It was Lily’s hand writing. Lily was helping her to the ball.
YOU ARE READING
Cinder Maid
FantasíaWritten way back in like 2015 when I was in 6th grade, this story won two writing contests in Illinois. It's nothing special, but it means a lot to me because it proved that people enjoyed reading my work. It's a simple retelling of Cinderella and I...
