Twisted Cinderella

The Party - Part One

                I finally woke up what seemed like years later. Pushing up onto my elbows, I saw I was in a very expensive-looking room. There were tapestries on the walls, paintings of kings and queens past and beautiful carpets everywhere. I turned to my right and saw a housemaid enter the room with a bottle of dark brown liquid and a spoon. She came to my side and measured out the thick substance. It oozed onto the spoon and when she finished measuring, it took on the form of wiggling molasses. Then she brought the spoon to my lips and I opened my mouth. The liquid tasted sweet, but the aftertaste was revolting. I started to gag then a tall glass of sparkling water came into view. Wrapping my fingers firmly around the glass, I raised it to my lips and drank the cool water greedily until no more than a drop was left.

                The housemaid left and in her place, Maxton strolled in as if he owned the place. He came up to where I lay on the soft bed. I tried to smile, but my head started to pound as if a pick axe was being driven into my skull. Doubling over in pain, I grabbed the chamber pot on the bedside table and threw up everything that was in my stomach except the strange medicine. Maxton patted my back as I retched until nothing was left. Finally, I collapsed back against the pillows, my hand over my eyes.

                “Are you okay?” Maxton asked, sounding worried.

                “I guess so, but I still feel a bit wobbly…and dizzy…and like I’m going to throw up everything in my stomach,” I groaned.

                “Perhaps it’s just a slight fever and you’ll be over it in no time,” Maxton was trying to sound hopeful, maybe to lift my spirits.

                “Yeah right!” I scoffed. I sat up again, but this time, my head was pain-free.

                Giddy with happiness and energy, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Maxton jumped to my side and put a hand on my waist in case I decided to kiss the ground again. I twisted out of his arms and took off, out the door and down the never-ending hallway. Finally, I came to a rest at the grand staircase. Slowly, I grasped a handful of my skirt, put one hand on the railing and descended the stairs like royalty. When I reached the bottom, I saw that a small handful of maids and two carriage drivers were congregated in the ballroom. All the housemaids were whispering amongst themselves. As I stopped before them, they quieted within an instant and four of the maids came forward with six different gowns.

                “What are those for?” I asked them.

                “For you of course, since you are the prince’s guest here, you shall be dressed like one; not as one of us,” the eldest maid replied swiftly and sharply as if I was a simpleton not to realize this on my own.

                I was quickly whisked away to a dressing room where the gowns were placed out so I could choose. One was deep red. Another was sky blue. Forest green. Yellow as bright and vibrant as the sun on a beautiful summer day. Pink, as bright as a geranium in full bloom. The last was indigo, the color of the sky before the sun completely disappeared and night finally fell. The entire gown was covered in shining silver threads that resembled the stars above. A crazy thought ran through my head.