They had got the whole story wrong. She never wore glass slippers, forget leaving one on the steps of a palace. Fairy godmothers didn't exist, and the biggest misunderstanding the world was to live with for years to come - her name wasn't Cinderella. It was a name the kingdom gave her, one that she was destined to rule...at the cost of losing the only man she ever loved.

"𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝? 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠?" "𝐮𝐡, 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬." ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ in which the quileute ancestors think they're funny by making the alpha's imprint a vampire

A poem I wrote about someone dying. I'm not sure where the inspration came from, rather where I found it in myself to write it, but I really would love feedback. Thanks, Widuzi. x