Ella's Story

Chapter 8

Word Count: 750 

Trigger Warnings: Heavy transphobia, Panic attack. Summary at the end of the chapter 

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I finally gather enough confidence to walk up the stairs completely. I slowly turn into the parlor and face my step family.

...

They don't notice me.

Maybe this is for the better, if they don't notice then they won't criticize. But then I also won't be able to go to the ball...I fiddle with my hands for a moment, and looking down at them I remember the days and weeks that I've put into making this a possibility for myself. I can't back out now, what would Ella think? What would Ash think? If I can't do it for myself at least I can do it for them.

I take a deep breath and clear my throat, no response. So I hesitantly ask "what do you think?"

Bejeweled eyes turn to glare at me for interrupting.

Their conversation falls silent.

Nothing.

"What the Hell are you wearing" Mistress Amaya says sharply. Words laces with venomous contempt.

I try to calm my breathing enough to answer. I barely succeed. "I was h-h-oping to wh-h-hear this to the ball."

Click. Click. click. Heeled footsteps. Precise and deliberate. Walking towards me.

"Show me the list."

I reach over to the parlor table, where the list of chores sits. I hand it to her.

Time moves excruciatingly slow while she flips through the three pages. Meticulously checking each chore.

"I'll say this Elliot. you've genuinely surprised me"

It feels like ice water has been poured on me. She's been so good. Why is she calling me Elliot again?

"I had no intention of letting you go to the ball, ever."

My breath hitches, but hers does not. It persists like a hurricane. Relentlessly pounding away at my remaining will and self worth until nothing is left.

"I gave you this list in hopes to discourage you. Knowing full well that it was near impossible for you to complete it, obtain suitable formalwear, and still have enough energy to be standing here now. You must be exhausted." She runs her hand lovingly along my cheek.

I refrain from leaning into it. I never get touches like this. I barely get touched at all, besides what Ash gives me.

A sharp clap, like thunder, resonates throughout the parlor.

I feel a stinging pain on my cheek and hesitantly bring my hand up to it.

"You disgust me, Elliot. A boy like you, in a dress like this? I would never. What is this even made of?"

I'm still trying to process the fact that mistress Amaya slapped me. I choke out "from Ash's old clothes"

"Servant's clothes? You expect to go to one of the Prince's betrothal bat wearing reused rags?! That is unacceptable. I don't care how much you try to fancy it up with stolen pearls and fancy needlework. They're always going to end up looking like shabby, worn, tablecloth."

Tears start falling now. I put a lot of work into this dress. It's the only nice thing I own. I put everything into it.

"Actually, it's quite fitting for you. Regardless of how much you try you'll never be what you claim to be. You'll always reek of masculinity no matter what you do."

She takes a step back, almost admiring how much her words tear me down.

"You are not coming with us" Mistress Amaya says with a tone of finality. She turns around sharply and says "make sure of it" then starts walking out of the front door.

There is a pause before anyone reacts.

Then it's all a flurry of hands, sounds of tearing fabric and shouting taunts "Fake boobs!" And "stained petticoats" and "my pearls!" And "stolen lace". Pretty nails scratch across my slin. Sharp enough I feel could draw blood.

I turn in on myself to try to minimize the damage. But when the dust settles I'm left hyperventilating, trying to come back to reality.

I back up as far as I can, until I hit a wall. I want to cry and scream and hit myself but nothing feels like enough.

They're right. They're right! It's just like with Matthew! Nothing I ever do will be enough for them to accept me. Let's face it. I'm just a man! I'm just a man! I'm a man! I sob again.

Why can't I just be happy the way I was born. Why can't I be born right?! Is that really too much to ask for?!

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Summary: Ella comes up in her dress, Mistress Amaya takes back her promises from before, the stepsisters ruin her dress, Ella is in the middle o a panic attack. Chapter ends. 

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Hey Angels! 

I promise next chapter it gets better. Hopefully you stick around reading until then. 

Stay safe, have fun <3