Twisted Cinderella

Punishment

                I was walking through the grand ballroom in the palace, weaving through strangers as they danced to the waltz that was playing. I was on a mission, although I had no idea what I was searching for. Finally I saw it, or rather him. It was the Prince, dressed in the same attire that I had seen him in earlier that night. This time though he was looking bored, as if he wanted to escape the lavish party that was being given. I stared at him hard until the power of my eyes drew his gaze towards me. His eyes locked with mine and he stood instantly and strode towards me as I waited for him. When he reached me, he bowed, I curtsied and we started to dance; not speaking a word or taking our eyes off each other. The other maidens were staring, whispering and pointing at me. All at once, the clock began to strike midnight, and my wonderful evening began to crumble around me. Turning around, I ran for the door and escaped. The prince was right behind me, and I took off across the castle gardens, through the woods and finally to the barren prairies. I ran down a ditch, where my right leg became tangled with the fabric of my dress and I pitched forward, rolling down the hill. My head struck the rock at the bottom and I finally rolled to a stop on my back, gazing at the night sky. I heard the prince come to a stop beside me and I smiled weakly at him. Then he kissed me as I exited the world of the living.

 

 

                “AAHHH!!” I bolted out of bed at the sound of the Widow screeching my name.

                “ELLA! WHERE’S OUR BREAKFAST?” she hollered.

                “BE RIGHT THERE!” I hollered. Great, not only had more of the death vision come to me, but I had a huge headache from lack of sleep.

                I jogged up the stairs and hurried into the kitchen, where I started to prepare the porridge and toast. As soon as they were cooked, I loaded the meals onto a large tray and carried it out to the dining room. The Widow was seated and the head of the table, where my mother would have sat; and Marie and Gene were each seated on her right and left. Just as I set the dishes down in front of them, the Widow glared sharply at the clock across the hall and then at me.

                “You are twenty minutes late! We were starving and yet as soon as you got up, you had to lollygag with preparing breakfast so you could make fun of us!” she accused.

                “I did no such thing! You kept me up all night with your list of chores that could have been completed today. I did not get enough sleep and yet you still expect me to work as hard as a pack mule!” I shouted back at her.

                Quick as a whip, she stood up and slapped me across the face. Hard. The Widow straightened her dress and sat down again, a smug look on her face.