If the Shoe Fits

The Last Day

A/N: I had been researching different versions of Cinderella for a school project when I came across a version where the evil step-mother comes up with a gory plan to ensure one of her daughters marries the prince. It actually worked at first, but then magic and talking animals revealed the truth. My story is about what would have happend had magic not interfered.

Also, I'm having issues with detail...I think I may have too much and that it slows down the story. Advice would be amazing.

None of the information I researched actually ended up in the school project, by the way.

    It was one of those days that a glance outside the window would tell you the texture of the air. Everything was soggy, but there was no rain; only a heavy grey fog that transformed the world into sharp black lines against a smudged grey background. The air was cool but thick, and Anastasia could almost taste it as she stared at the outside world. Even the wooden window frame seemed to have lost most of its colour; a thick layer of dust lined it.

    She heard movement behind her and turned to see her step-sister, a pale thing named Cinderella standing there with tears lining her bloodshot eyes. Somehow the whites of her eyes turning pink only seemed to make their perfect shade of blue stand out.

    “The window needs dusting,” Anastasia said quietly in a well-rehearsed monotone voice. “Don’t dust it today, though. Wait until I leave.” It was, in fact, Anastasia’s last day in that house, but it was a rather touchy subject when it came to her step-sister.

    Without a word, the thin eighteen-year-old turned and walked briskly out of the room. Anastasia heard the quiet click of a door shutting seconds later, and then small sobbing sounds erupted. Nothingness wrapped itself around her like a shawl and slowly erased her emotions as she turned back to the window. She could shut down completely if she needed to, and now she found herself unable to feel anything at all whenever her step-sister was concerned.

    The view from her window was beautiful to her, and she knew it would be rare to see such a familiar scene painted that way. There were no leaves on the large tree that could be seen at the right side of the window beside the damp grey road, leaving its branches to stretch in every direction, black against the light grey of the sky. There were no leaves on the ground, either, and no snow to cover the grass. Spring was beginning, but just barely. She wished she could freeze that moment and live in that world of black and white forever, never having to worry about the events that she knew would follow, never aging, never hurting anyone, never being hurt, and at last forgetting everything that leading up to her looking out of that window on that day.

    She imagined a monarch butterfly landing on one of the tree’s branches, and a lady dressed from head to toe in black with only bright red lipstick to add any colour to the scene as she made her way across the lawn. From there she built a different landscape, one piece at a time.

    “She here to give you this,” an annoyed voice snapped her out of her daydream, and she turned to see her sister holding out gauze. Her blood sister, Drizella, was less of a ghost than her step-sister. She was taller, wider, and had rosy cheeks and black hair. It was hard to tell that the two were the same age. The only thing Drizella had in common with Cinderella was that they both stood and sat with perfectly straight backs. Anastasia herself had never cared too much for posture and had gone through life with slumped shoulders. It was unclear who exactly she was annoyed at, but the question was never raised.

     Anastasia took the gauze absentmindedly and asked, “Why didn’t She send Cinderella?”

    “We don’t need that tramp anymore, An,” Drizella spat. “She’s locked herself in her room. Let her stay there until she starves.”