My Life as an Almost Cinderella

Chapter 1: Welcome to my life

'I wake up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy-'

"Urgh!" I slammed my hand down on the alarm clock annoyed. "If waking up like P-Diddy means feeling like crap and seriously hating my life then I'd rather not thanks," I grumbled. As you can probably tell I'm not a morning person but you wouldn't be either if you had to wake up at 5am every morning despite having gone to bed at around 1am every night.

Hold on, let me explain.

My name is Gemini Cassidy Williams but I usually go by Gem or Cassy. I'm 17 (almost 18) and it's my first day of senior year today. I'm tall, I've just passed 5'8". I'm not sure if I like my height or not because I love wearing high-heels but every time I do, I tower over almost all of my friends, but I don't think being short would suit me so I'll deal. I have long black hair cut into layers which reaches just past my hips and my eyes are a medium brown which become a honey colour in the sun, which I love. Now to explain my crappy sleeping hours. My family. In short I've almost got the whole Cinderella thing going for me. Evil step-mother, check. Bi*chy step-sisters, check check. Crap home life, check. Slave status, check. One difference is my father is still alive, but he's almost never here because he's a busy businessman. My step-mother and my step-sisters treat me like dirt. I live in the smallest room in the entire house despite living in a ten-bedroom mansion. I have to clean said mansion from top to bottom, do all of the laundry and do all of the cooking. Cooking is probably one of the hardest jobs because the food has to be, and I quote, "fresh, organic and fat-free". This means I have to pick the fruit and vegetables from the garden (which I tend to by myself) every morning before they come down for breakfast. Before this however I need to turn on the central heating, because it's colder now, so that their highnesses don't feel cold when they awake. Then I have to wake all of them up gently, because they hate to be woken by the alarm clock because it "alarms" them. Hmmm... I wonder why? (note the sarcasm).

Before I start my day of slavery I have to get myself ready. So I rushed into the bathroom and took a quick 15 minute shower, brushed my teeth etc. and rushed back out. I rifled through my wardrobe and picked out a pair of denim cut off shorts which stopped mid-thigh, but because my legs are really long the shorts look shorter than they should. Oh well. I paired them with a cream coloured t-shirt and a beige cardigan and then I completed my outfit with my favourite pair of floral print converses. I then headed over to my mirror and applied my usual amount of make-up which consisted of mascara, eye-liner, kohl, a light dusting of blush and a tiny bit of lipgloss or Vaseline. Then I ran a brush through my wavy hair and swept it up into a ponytail. I didn't bother with straightening/curling my hair because I didn't see the point of getting all dressed up just to go to school. I'd already packed my bag the night before so I just grabbed it and left it by the front door before starting my arduous day of chores.

"To the lairs of the evil trio!" I stated quietly. I hurried up the stairs while looking at my phone for the time. It was 6. Perfect timing. You're probably wondering why I have to wake them up so early when school only starts at 8.30am but the reason for that is the trio take so long to get ready because unlike me they put time and effort into choosing their outfits then time and effort into doing there make-up and doing there hair. The end products are always a blonde barbie, a brunette barbie and mother barbie.

I entered Ashley's room, the blonde one of my twin step-sisters. Her room was the epitome of girly. You were assaulted by the colour pink before you even entered because even the door was pink. There was every shade of the colour in the room. Her king-sized four-poster bed had pink drapes, a pink duvet cover and pink pillows and cushions. The carpet was a pale pink, the curtains were a dark pink and all her furniture were varying shades of pink. And there lying sprawled on top of the bed was Ashley wearing, you guessed it, pink pjs. I walked over and gently shook her while calling her name.