Fractured Fairy Tale
Once upon a time, there was a young blonde girl named “Cinderella.” She annoyed me almost as much as the sound of nails on a chalkboard. My family was just a normal family living in a normal village, but somehow she weaseled her way into our family and ended up staying for good. Her story stole millions of peoples’ hearts across the world as they sympathized with all the “suffering” she endured with the supposed cruelty of my sister, Daniya, and my “evil” mother. But who’s to say that version of the story is the real one? Hi. My name is Kanisha and this is what actually happened.
One day, Daniya and I were preparing to go to the widely acclaimed ball that is held only once every four years, kind of like the Olympics. Mother let us get manicures, facial masks, and new dresses, fit for the occasion. We had to look amazing to shine like the stars that we were. What was Cinderella doing, you ask? Well, the little rascal was also getting ready. The poor thing thought that she was going to the ball! Unfortunately, because she was only 16 at the time, she was prohibited from waltzing around at the ball with people like us.
Well, it turned out that Cinderella was more cunning than any of us had thought she was — apparently, she snuck her way in by lying to the city council about her age a week prior to the ball! At first, Mother was not happy about it (and neither was I). We argued with Cinderella for an eternity. Everyone was stressed about it, and I could tell Cinderella was feeling very overwhelmed, especially since she had to work hard and do chores.
Eventually, I came up with a plan: we would mingle with the other ladies in the village once we got to the ball, and pretend we didn’t know her. She would tarnish our reputation! I simply could not afford to be embarrassed at the ball.
On the evening of the ball, Cinderella showed up in the most beautiful dress, looking very cheerful and pleased with herself. She seemed to be glowing!
“How did she even afford that thing?” Mother whispered to me.
Her eyes were the size of dinner plates. I was shocked as well! After all, Cinderella was usually dressed in sweats and an old T-shirt. Her hair was normally in a drab messy bun, but now, she had a sophisticated up-do.
“I don’t know,” I replied, trying to be nice (although I couldn’t help the slightly nasty look on my face). “Maybe her little mice friends helped her out. Whatever: let’s just let her have a little fun.”
Everyone looked like they were having a great time, and I was glad that the ball was in full swing. Right after sparkling glasses of pink lemonade and delicious scones were handed out, my family saw Cinderella desperately dashing out the door, a wild look on her face — even though there was still plenty of time left and the night had just begun! As she was running down the marble stairs, one of her gold slippers fell off her foot. Clink!
When it was time to go, we made our way back to our house. The stars winked in the night sky. In the car, Daniya kept chattering about how magical the night was. She gushed about the gleaming silverware in the dining room, the fancy chandeliers, and the beautiful display of flowers that was set up in the main hall. I completely agreed with her. I couldn’t stop thinking about Cinderella’s slippers, though…
One day, the prince’s guards arrived at our home out of nowhere while Cinderella was busy cleaning the attic upstairs. They said that they were looking for the owner of a pricey-looking slipper that was left behind at the ball. They came into our living room, holding the slipper up in the sunlight so it shimmered and gleamed. I gasped when I realized that the prince was trying to find the “mystery girl” whose foot could fit in the slipper. I needed to take action; the slipper was calling my name!
If they asked Cinderella, she would probably be humiliated as nobody would believe that she was the owner of the slipper. Sadly, girls like her tend to not show up to such prestigious balls. So, I knew that I just had to step in if I wanted to fulfill my role as a good step-sister.
I asked the guard, “Can I try?”
He said yes. As I gently placed my foot in the sparkling slipper, everyone was completely quiet. I could hear a pin drop a mile away!
The slipper fit perfectly!
I smiled brightly and exhaled. Thank goodness my feet are the same size as Cinderella’s. The guards left our home to let the prince know about the turn of events.
From that day on, I lived happily ever after, and so did Cinderella…sort of. We both had happy endings, but they were just a little different, to say the least. I ended up marrying the prince, starting a family, and living large. Cinderella continued to reside in the village, and tried her best to enjoy the little moments that our humble town offers. Her lifestyle, which was quite restrained, to be frank, was starkly different from my opulent lifestyle. She found out about what happened and cried a river, of course, but at that point, there was nothing she could do.
The moral of this story? You have to be unafraid to take risks in order to get what you want in life…and fortune favors the bold.