The Fallen Queen (Winner of the Write Way Award 2013) #Wattys2015 #MyWattysChoice #Featured

Chapter 5: The Ugly Duckling

One morning I opened my eyes and it was time for me to go to school. My first day of school.

I had learned how to read and to write long before I started kindergarten. My grandmother observed my precocious talent for reading when they saw me reciting the old fairy tales books Grandma gave us.

My favorite story was The Princess and the Frog. The princess had a pretty dress and I found it fascinating that she was able to force herself to kiss a frog. Actually, she did not really want to kiss the frog: her father made her do it. He forced her. Really, what parents sometimes make their kids do makes me wonder…

So my grandmother brought me to a specialist for some tests and they decided I should start school early. That meant that I would start school at the same time as Jeremy.

But, being cruel—as they are—they did not want us to be in the same class together. They separated us. They put him in the class before mine, located on the other side of the dark corridor. I did not like that corridor. The colors were nonexistent there. Except for the red.

Red was Jeremy’s favorite color but, personally, it scared me. Even now. To me, it represented the color of separation. Don’t take away my brother! The color red stood in my way. Jeremy’s teacher’s jersey. A hand suddenly pushed my brother into the other room.

I heard his laughter. It was always an empty, strange laugh.

Indeed, he was much stronger than me. I was not able to laugh. Not right now.

Adults are idiots. They say they are doing things for our own good; that we are too young to understand. They decreed that it was better for children to be among strangers, to separate them from everything they knew, to uproot them from their beloved family.

My brother’s teacher looked nice enough. She was not disgusted by him. She did not care that Jeremy did not swallow his saliva but instead let it leak out of his mouth.

I almost trusted her.

But still, without my brother, my life had no meaning. I had no one to protect.

“Come, my dear,” said my teacher.

“When will I see my brother again?”

“You will see him outside at recess time.”

“Why can’t I go with him now?”

“Because you have to make new friends. Leave your bag at the entrance and go join the others.”

Why on Earth would I need new friends? What was that all about? I never had friends before, so why would I need them suddenly now?

The children decided to play dress up. We had boxes of old clothing in the classroom.

They wanted to recreate the story of Cinderella while playing dress up. Interesting. That was actually a good idea.

I joined them gladly. I was glad for about one minute. That was when they gave me the role of the wicked stepmother.

Okay, so what was it? Why did I always have to play the role of the evil one? I did not think I was that wicked. I did not look nasty either.

I decided to interpret the role in my own way. Instead of being an evil stepmother, I became a nice one.

“Mother, I finished washing the floors and windows in the entire castle,” said a short Cinderella.

“Very well, my dear daughter,” I replied in a soft voice. “You can now go see your fairy godmother in the woods; she will make you a pretty dress to go to the ball.”