The Grimm and Twisted World of Fairy Tales

The Grimm and Twisted World of Cinderella: The House of Porter

 The Grimm and Twisted World of Fairy Tales

Chapter One Of:

The Grimm and Twisted World of Cinderella

The House Of Porter

I sat there in the cellar, shivering to no end. It was considerably colder down there than in the rest of the house, but I was never there long.

I was going to go mad in there if I didn’t keep myself together. The mice that scuttled across the concrete floors, the spiders who wove their ways across the room, and the unknown substance that oozed down the walls, were someday going to drive me to kill everyone in this house.

Maybe I already was mad, though. I thought about hanging my stepmother, Marlena, by her feet and cutting off her arms during the times in which she was yelling at me. I thought about pushing my stepsisters, Cicely and Cissy, whom after six years of living with I still couldn’t tell apart, into the rushing river my mother had drowned in. They deserved that. My mother, however, had not.

These dark thoughts haunted me all the time, and I didn’t want them to leave my head for some odd reason. One day, I wanted to kill them, I really did. I honestly didn’t know how, for I had never killed anyone before, but one day I wanted to either end my life, or theirs.

I stood up and padded over to the door, wrenched it open, and shook as the cold dripped through my fingertips and warmth took its place. I stood there enjoying the feeling until I heard two sets of footsteps storming my way. I knew who they belonged to immediately: Cicely and Cissy. I clenched my eyes shut and stood stock-still, willing the girls not to see me.

They steps stopped right in front of me. “We can see you, Cinder-Girl,” One of them said in their high-pitched, screech-like voice. I pried my left eye open slightly. “Really,” I asked, now opening both eyes to their full extent. “I just figured you two too stupid to notice a girl standing in plain sight.”

Cissy’s (Cicely’s?)  jaw dropped. “When mum finds out what you’ve said you’ll be out on the streets like you always should’ve been, like those pathetic people we always see walking around when we go into the city.” She said smugly. At that, I visibly tensed. “Go on, tell her. Tell your stupid witch of a mother. I don’t care.”  I said bravely, hoping if I didn’t seem scared of their mother they’d leave me alone.

But, of course, it didn’t work. They both smiled smugly and walked in the direction of their mother’s bedroom. I stood there in the hall for a moment, in shock, but after realizing what was about to come, I dashed back to my cellar, momentarily forgetting about how cold it was in there; the adrenaline pumping through me would keep me warm for the time being.

I ran into the cellar, cold biting at my feet, and shut the door. I faintly heard what sounded like my stepmother screeching, “That little bitch!” Before running towards that very room I was in. I dashed into a shadowy corner of the room, and stood very still.

The door to the cellar flew open. “Where are you, Cinderella?” She hissed sinisterly at the wet cellar air. “I have a bone to pick with you.” I backed even more into the shadows until I stepped on something furry, which squeaked loudly and scurried across the floor. I willed Marlena not to notice.

“There you are girl,” She said, obviously hearing what happened between me and that mouse. She marched over to me, painfully grabbing me by my long hair, and dragged me out of the cellar.  She kept dragging me, despite my cries of “Stop!”, “Please!” and “Ouch!”, until we reached the kitchen, where she threw me onto the floor and threw at me a bucket and sponge, which narrowly missed my head. “You are to wash the floors and counters, dust the photos and trinkets, wash the clothes, and cook dinner and dessert for your sisters and myself, of which you will get nothing, you disgusting little ingrate. You are not to speak to your sisters and I that way do you understand?” She screeched right into my face.  My blood boiled. I was so sick of hearing this.“They’re not my sisters, and you are not my mum. You never will be. My mum was amazing. You’re just an ugly old bitch!”

All I remember feeling was Marlena’s hand connecting sharply to my face before she walked away and I, Ella Alastair, was left alone in the kitchen, in the House of Porter.

A/N Hi! So, this is my first story on Wattpad (score one for trying new things), and I welcome constructive criticism. Oh, and voting, commenting, and fanning would be nice too...So thanks for reading everyone and I hope you liked it so I can continue.

~TheAwkwardButton