Twisted Fairy Tales

Cinderella

My title: Diamond in the Rough

"Gabriella! Gabriella! Wake up and make me breakfast!"

Wake up, clean, sleep. Wake up, clean, sleep. This was Gabriella's schedule ever since the day she turned seven. She was currently seventeen- almost done with high school. Oh, how she dreaded every day, longing and longing to separate herself from her dreaded stepmother and cruel, cruel stepsisters.

Climbing out of bed, and out of her very thin top sheet, she quickly slipped into a worn out pair of clothes. She put her dirty blond hair into a messy ponytail, unbrushed. In fact, it hadn't been brushed in years. It was down to her back legs too; as it was neither cut. She was also allowed only one shower a week and it couldn't last more than three minutes or the water would be turned to ice cold on her.

Her bedroom was very simple. An old rickety bed, a dresser, and a few other bedroom necessities. Her room was always cold. No insulation and a drafty window. Her step-mother never allowed her to use a blanket. All she was allowed to use as the blanket was a top-sheet. 

She grabbed her school bag from beside her bed and walked out of the room. Trotting down the stairs to the second floor she heads her sisters who were screaming for her to do their hair, help them get dressed or do their makeup.

"Ella, hurry up," screamed Desiree

"Gabby, help me zip up this shirt!" Anna followed up.

"Gabriella! I told you to make us breakfast! You fool!" Her mother's voice was probably the most annoying of the tree. Gosh, how he hated that woman, Beatrice Terrell. 

She ignored her family's squabbles. Gabriella, Gabriella, Gabriella, is all she heard for years. Gabriella this, Ella that, Gabby do this. There was no break other than sleep, or if her mother and sisters were shopping for clothes or jewelry and even then...

She continued to rush downstairs and help her sisters' needs before rushing down to make simple omelets for her sisters and mother.

"Gabriella!" the yell was more of an angered screech. She could hear her mother stomping up the stairs to come to her and slap her across the face for not having breakfast ready. She braised herself as she put the omelets on three plates and put two in hand, and one balanced on her arm. She quickly rushed out of the kitchen to meet her stepmother, an attempt to lessen the wrath- even though she was used to it by now. Her mother was roughly five more steps from the kitchen when Ella walked out, omelets and forks in hands.

Her mother eyed her, but didn't say anything and grabbed the plate from her and walked away. Ella waited until her mother had walked back down the hallway to the stairway and continued back down to the first floor before she let out a breath she hadn't realized she had withheld.

She bit her lip and carried the plates to her sisters' room. Knocking on the door, they opened it, took the plates, and slammed the door in her face. Gabriella rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath. "Desiree, Anna... I'll get revenge someday." Walking away, she rushed downstairs and out the door trying to part herself as far away as she could from her and the manor.

It wasn't a large manor, but very stylish. A brick house with a large white porch, and a large garden. Gabriella hated it. She hated all of it. Every flower, every bird that came to eat from the feeder, every speck of dust on the pictures, every ash in the fireplace, every web on the ceilings other than her own room... She absolutely hated it. Granted, she did admire the animals and the flowers, but it was her who watered them and made sure the feeder was full. Her who made every meal and cleaned the entire house. Her who went to buy groceries, her who dusted and cleaned, and her who fixed everything that broke from ripped clothes, furniture to mechanical objects. All the while, her younger prissy sisters got all the things they wanted, and never worked a day in their lives; spoiled brats.