A Modern Fairytale. (short story)

A Modern Fairytale.

Cinder watched happily as her stepsisters moved around in the huge bedroom in a hustle, attempting to look their best as they puffed powder on their faces, tightened their corsets to the point of suffocation, and put on their fancy dresses.

Tonight was the ball which Cinder was forbidden from attending on her stepmother's orders. Cinder had pretended to be bummed out, when in reality, she was ebullient to have the house to herself even if it was just a few hours - for it meant that she could catch up with her favourite TV show.

She smirked from behind what had been her mothers' favourite book and now her's - Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte - when she saw that her stepsisters were almost done and leaving, as they talked about how they were surely to catch the prince's eye, and then continued to banter on who would be the one to marry him, before they finally walked out the door with their antsy mother.

As soon as Cinder shut the door behind them, she was quick to sprint into the living room as she let out a little shriek of excitement.

But her fervour was short lived, however, when she soon acknowledged that she was yet not alone in the house, as she discovered the Fairy Godmother sitting on the couch in a set of floral pants and blazer with her legs crossed. The fairy checked the time on her wristwatch and then finally turned to look at Cinder.

"My dear, you seem to be in no condition to be attending a royal ball!" she said when she took in Cinder's dirty white sweater and ripped jeans.

Being used to the Godmother's presence, Cinder was unfazed, but her shoulders slumped and her mouth set in a pout when she realised where this was going.

"Mind a little makeover, dear?" The Godmother insisted.

"But Godmother-"

"Oh, hush! You didn't think I was going to let this ball pass by with you sitting at home only to watch those peculiar shows?" The Godmother raised her eyebrows. "You need to socialise. All you do is sit and read. Make some friends."

"I have friends."

"I'm not talking about fictional people." The Godmother sighs. "I'm going to make you look like a real princess and you're going to snitch the prince's heart," she smirked and after that, Cinder knew there was no going back.

Fifteen minutes - which consisted of the Godmother repeatedly flicking her wand at Cinder making her disappear and then materialise back into a completely different attire - later, Cinder was ready.

She was dressed into an elegant and delicate black dress with her hair in a curly curtain down her back. After much adamant pleading from Cinder, the Godmother had given up on trying to force her into fancy stilettos, and let her stay in her worn out sneakers which made the old fairy cringe in distaste.

The ball was of course held at the royal palace, and even though Cinder had seen it on the old black and white TV and the magazines a thousand times, seeing it in person made her breath hitch in her throat. Suddenly, she felt anxious, but still she managed to step out of the car and walk into the palace without tripping on her shaky legs.

A huge crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room that was full of people - mostly young women - all waiting to get a chance to introduce themselves to the prince.

Having no interest in impressing the Prince, Cinder stood alone the side near one huge window with a glass of a golden fuzzy drink someone handed her, as she stared out into the massive well kept garden, not knowing that the Prince would come to her.

"I like your choice of shoes," he chuckled when he approached her. "Lady...?"

Startled, Cinder spit the sip in her mouth back into the glass and it took her a second before she regained her composure. "Cinderella. My name is Cinderella," she says, overwhelmed and confused as to why the prince was talking to her.

"Lady Cinderella," he finished his earlier sentence and Cinder was instantly captivated by the prince who wore a crisp black sharp cut suit with golden embroidery and a black tie. "I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention to startle you."

"Oh," Cinder squeaks, then let's out a polite cough as she starts again, "Oh no, that's okay. And please just call me Cinderella."

"Then I insist you call me Harry." He smiles, then says, "It's getting a bit suffocating. May I ask you to join me for a walk through the gardens?"

"I'd love to," came the reply. After all, who was Cinder to say no to the Royal prince who, for some reason, was just as captivated by her as she was by him?

Hours seem to tick by and before she could apprehend, Cinder found herself more and more entranced by the kind prince. They had left the crowded ballroom and were walking in the middle of the huge garden grounds of the palace that were lit by burning torches, when the Prince suddenly stopped laughing at the joke they had shared, turned to face her, and said in a genuine tone, "You burn too bright for this world, Lady Cinderella."

Cinder's eyes bulged out and her breath hitched in her throat. In a world where literacy is considered useless and the readers are considered dreamers and ridiculed , she thought, the prince did not just quote my favourite book!

"You are more myself than I am," Cinder whispered, as she quoted back the author's words, wide eyed in amazement yet nervous that it could've just been a coincidence.

But when the prince recited the next line along with her, she almost didn't believe it. "Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."

They both broke out in a laugh as they stared at each other in bewilderment, but like all good things come to an end, this one had to too, because when the bell rang and Cinder counted twelve strikes, she gasped in remembrance and started moving away from the prince. "I'm sorry. I have to go." She was barely thinking straight as she moved away from his touch, desperate to make it home before the stepmother did - who must never know about this.

"Cinderella, wait-"

It was too late as he watched her disappear from sight.

•••

It had been three days since then when a knock came at the door. Locked upstairs in the attic that was her room, Cinder knew it was the prince, for he had been visiting every maiden in the kingdom in hopes to find the one he met at the ball, but she didn't make any efforts to meet him. I'm no Princess. He wouldn't even recognise me like this - were her thoughts.

The stepmother opened the door letting the prince in along with the Royal duke. Immediately, the stepsisters squealed in delight as they crowded the guest.

Not having patience for small talk, the prince politely said, "You burn too bright for this world."

See, he had been visiting each and every young maiden in the kingdom and he quoted this line to each and every one of them, making some melt in coy awe while some just stared at the prince in awkward silence, but not once did he get the response he wanted.

The prince sighed deeply as he got the same response from the stepsister and now he grew perplexed. This was the last house and he hadn't found her. In a last attempt he asked, "Is there anyone else living here?"

"Oh. We have a maid." One of the sisters said with a look of disgust. "You wouldn't want to meet her."

"I insist."

•••

When she heard her name being yelled, Cinder walked down shaking in nervousness in her worn out clothes - her usual look - as she ignored the snide remark her stepmother made about the way she presents herself.

As if he were in a trance, the prince was speechless but when he finally found his voice, he already knew that this was her. "You burn too bright for this world, Cinderella." He smiled.

Cinder started, "Whatever our souls are made of," and the prince joined her, "yours and mine are the same."