"To all the girls out there who no longer believe in fairytales or happy endings, you are the writer of this story. Chin up and straighten your crown, you're the queen of this kingdom and only you know how to rule it."
- B. Devine -
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I'm not a princess.
I don't live in a castle and I don't have a tiger as a pet. Nor do I live in a small cottage with an inventor for a father. But, I did lose my mother at a young age and I do have a step-family. No evil step-mother or just-as-evil step-sisters, though. My step-family included my step-dad, Adam and my step-brothers, Tristan and Tanner. They weren't evil or vicious, well not that I knew of. My mother, Giselle married Adam four years after she and my father separated. I had been fourteen at the time, completely oblivious to how dreadful the next four years of my life would be.
For example, the year I turned fifteen, my father was diagnosed with Cardiac Cancer, Stage four. Thankfully, my mother and father had agreed to shared custody and I got to stay with him for the last two weeks of his life. We played card games and talked about my future, he even wrote a bunch of letters for me to open as I got older. My mother used to tell me, I was just like him and that it sometimes pained her to look at me. I looked a lot like my father. We had the same brown, waved hair and ocean blue irises and we both loved baseball with everything we had. I could still remember the last day I saw him, happy and biotic. It was a cool morning in February, the twelfth if I remember correctly. I had spent the night with my best friend, Holly and her mother happily drove me to the hospital the next morning. I could still remember the pained, weak expression that rested on his handsome face and the way his jaw clenched as he sat up in his bed to greet me. My father and I never exchanged pleasantries, we never found the need to. Instead, I curled up by his side on the bed where there were no wires and rested my head on his shoulder. We spoke for an hour about nothing, just how mom and Adam were doing and if I liked the new academy my mom had transferred me to. My father never liked Adam, maybe it was the hurt of seeing the one you had spent years with easily love someone else or maybe it was just genuine dislike but he had never trusted him. I only answered his questions with nods or the usual 'it's alright', we had always found comfort in short answers. I could still remember the way he'd smile whenever I'd rant about something either Tristan or Tanner had done, he'd sometimes laugh but other times he just smiled as if he loved having me there with him. And when it was finally time to say goodbye, I remember he took my hand and brought it to his lips, telling me everything would be alright. I could still remember the slowing of the heart monitor and the salty taste of my own tears as I exited the hospital, a folder filled with every letter he'd written me in one hand and a neatly wrapped box in the other. The nurse had given me both, saying my father had asked her to give them to me once he'd passed and I remember only nodding, no longer finding comfort in the simple gesture.
That was almost three years ago, and the memory of his last day was still burned into my brain. I had only opened two letters since then, and the mysteriously wrapped box which held my father's most prized possession; his Derek Jeter, autographed Yankees baseball. It sat on a shelf now, protected by a small, glass case as a reminder that my father would always be with me, no matter where I went in life or who went with me. My mother passed not long after my father. See, she was a fashion designer and on her way back from fashion week in Paris, the engine of the plane she was on caught fire. It landed somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, reporters say everyone died on impact. When I heard the news, I didn't want to believe it. I locked myself in my room for days, refusing to leave or open the door. I had my own bathroom, thankfully, so I still showered and used the restroom but no matter how hard Adam, Tanner, Tristan or even Holly tried, I wouldn't open the door or eat anything. I felt like a part of me died that day, drowned right along with my mother in that plane crash. All I have left of her is a small, heart-shaped locket and a dress, one I'd never wear for fear of ruining it. I still lived with Adam and his sons, mainly because I had no living relatives and my mother had named him as my godfather on the day I was born. I still carried a passion for baseball and I even worked in a small bakery, the one my grandmother owned. It had been my sixteenth birthday present and I hadn't been more excited. Holly helped me remodel it and our friend, Aurora helped us spread the word. The three of us now ran the bakery together, with the help of Adam, of course. He ran the bakery while we attended school and afterwards, at five when we were released, we'd take over and Adam would drive to the hospital, where he worked night shifts. So no, I wasn't a princess and I didn't have a perfect life. But, I was content with what I had.
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Bonjour, merci pour la lecture la premier chapitre de Contagieux Cendrillion, I apprecie grandement ce. (Hello, thank you for reading the first chapter of Catching Cinderella, I greatly appreciate it.) If you have any questions, concerns or comments about this chapter or future chapters, please don't hesitate to ask or post, I love hearing from readers. I have included the actress, point of view and song below and hope you enjoy the rest of your day/night.
Actress- Barbara Palvin
Point of View- First Person, Paige Morgan
Song- Read All About It by Emeli Sande
Merci, (Thank you)
- xXxMadridXxX
YOU ARE READING
Catching Cinderella
Teen Fiction~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ I'm not a princess, no where close to it. I didn't fall in love with a beast, walk on broken glass or meet seven little dwarfs while running from an evil queen. But...
