Cinderella Snaps

Bleep! Bleep! Bleep! My alarm clock screams. In a sleepy rage I punch the snooze button on my clock. "Yet another fabulous day in the life of a slave." I mutter

Now dear reader, obviously I'm not a actual slave but it sure feels like it. I never go out, I never have any free time and I never do anything other but cook and clean. I've won the gold medal for suckiest life 17 years in a row. I never knew my mother, my father died while I was young and I have little memory of him. Sadly I have lots of memories of my step-mother, Mimi, mistreating me. She very rarely physically harms me but let's just say that having to clean every surface of the house everyday isn't great either (especially with no pay, Mimi says food is payment enough. Can you believe that?). The only thing that keeps me sane it the fact that in only 5 short months I can leave as a legal adult. Anyway, back to the story, and trust me, it's a good one.

I'm right about to go back to sleep when I hear a shrill voice call from down the hall. "Cinderella! Did you take my Gucci purse?" My (evil) step-mother struts like a molting peacock into my room. Her gross, stringy and greasy red hair falling over her head in a clump that resembles an ostrich nest. "I know you took it, give it back you wench!" She screeches. I just scoff and reply, "three things Mimi. Firstly, what century are you from? The 1500's? Who actually says wench anymore? I mean, honestly, I would actually be offended if it wasn't so out dated." Mimi just rolled her eyes but I continued. "Secondly, I would never take that ugly knock off bag that you insist on keeping, and lastly, my name is CINDY. Not Cin, Cinda, Cinderella, Ella or anything, Cindy." I pause for a moment. "But on instagram you can hit me up at queenofcindynatti_32 'kay boo?"

She just stared at me with surprise and contempt before responding when her expression and voice changed into something softer. "What did I say about that? Call me mom." She hissed. Mimi blows air out of her nose loudly before I hiss back. "But you are not my mother so why would I call you that? After looking at me for the most uncomfortable 30 seconds of my life she sashays out of the room and slams the door. "I want this house spotless when I get back." She yells as she stomps down the stairs. God I hate that woman.

After 15 good minute sulking session I peek out my door into the hallway. I have to be sure to avoid my horrid step-sisters, Taffy and Cathy. If I run into them in the hallway they like to make a habit out of criticizing my hair, skin, face, clothes and ect. Me in general. Mostly because instead of strawberry blonde hair like them I have thick curly black hair, also because I have chocolate brown skin instead of pale pink flesh. Since I didn't see them I crept out of my room toward the bathroom but when I was barely halfway there Taffy pounced. Behind me, I heard an earsplitting voice shriek "Oh Cinderella I thought you would never get up, I need you to help me get dressed." Instead of talking back like I do Mimi I just obeyed. Unlike Mimi Taffy and Cathy will not hesitate to slap me, kick me, punch me or anything of that manner. I follow her to her room with my head down to assist her in getting her dressed.

Solemnly I help her as well as Cathy and once I'm done I resume my daily schedule. 9:00- 11:00 clean Mimi's, Cathy's and Taffy's rooms (they are so messy). 11:00- 3:00 cook dinner for the entire week. Around this time my step sisters come rolling into the house so I retreated to my room for a break before I run to the market. When I reached my room I felt strange anger. Anger for being treated this way. Anger for never standing up for myself. I've always been angry but never like this, this was new and I needed to act on it. I began pacing my room and speaking to myself in a tone only I could hear. "Everyday they treat you like dirt. Like a dog. You would think after all this time you would earn even a little respect. They need to learn a lesson. Yes....a lesson." My mind began to twist and weave into something I didn't recognize. Who was I becoming? Someone who would no longer be pushed around, that's who. I grabbed my raggedy jacket and ran out the door. On my way out I bumped into Mimi, the papers she was holding collapsed to the ground. "Sorry." I mumbled before hurrying off. "Stupid girl, clumsy oaf, no wonder your mom left you." She sneered. I stopped in my tracks and ran back and got right in Mimi's face "How dare you speak about my mother like that? You know nothing! She was a saint!" I screamed. With a satisfied smirk Mimi smugly replied "A saint who ran off with another man huh? Some saint your mother was." before I stormed off I quietly said "Dinner will be ready soon Mimi."

Instead of going to the grocery store I slink into the nearest hardware store. There was a middle aged balding man sitting at the counter chewing tobacco, reading a fishing magazine. I charged up to the counter and slammed a 50 dollar bill in front of him. He jumped at the sound of my hand smacking the counter and scrambled regain his composure. "How much rat poison can I buy with this?" I breathe heavily. The man chuckles and goes to the shelf and grabs me eight boxes of rat poison. "Rats are frustrating critters to kill right? You have a lot at home?" He questions. "Yes, I have three horrible, disgusting and revolting rats at home. I need to get home and feed them dinner." I gesture to the rat poison. The man continued to chuckle at his own little joke and gave me the eight boxes in a large bag. "Thank you sir." I said politely as I was walking out he called to me "I hope you get those rats of yours miss." I smiled to myself. "Oh trust me, I will."

When I got home I picked up a large vat that I use to make soup and poured all eight boxes of poison into it. I then began to create a whole new meal from the ones I cooked previously that day. I poured lots of chicken broth into the vat to hide the smell of rat poison. I added all normal soup ingredients at that point and after 30 short minutes I called my "family" into the dining room. While they filed into their seats I poured my concoction into bowls for each of them. When I was finished I planned to go straight to my room but I was stopped. "Cinderella! I will not eat this!" Cathy yelled and my breath got caught in my throat. "W-why not Cathy?" I stuttered. She scoffed and said "There's not enough salt...duh." I finally breathed again and hurried to get her some salt. After I delivered her the salt I ran to my room and went to sleep.

I awoke about 30 minutes later and gingerly crept down the stairs. When I reached the bottom of the stairs I listened for any chatter but I heard none. I tip-toed to the the dining room where I was greeted by three corpses of the people I hate most. Delighted I squealed with glee. Their pale bodies laid motionless in the soup I made, the last thing they will ever taste. My celebration didn't last long because I knew what I needed to do next. I bolted to my room to pack all my things, once I had done that I moved it all onto the lawn to wait for me for when I return. I traveled to the garage where I found the gasoline which I doused the entire house in. When I emptied the can I exited the house. I felt in my thin coat and felt the matchbook I had placed in there. For a moment I just stood and stared at the house to say goodbye but before I knew it I whipped out the matches, lit one and threw it at the house. Immediately it went up in flames. Gone. It's over. All over. I can leave. My soul flew away and I ran to the nearest bus stations. I will be someone new, this is all behind me. I will never go back.