10751

3 Creative Writing
Short Story Product 1
November 24, 2014

Cindella
A reproduction of the classical fairytale: Cinderella
By: 10751

1- me
My mother is dead. I am alone, an only child, with no family. No
heart. No hope.
She was such an amazing person. She would get me the things I
needed; a unicorn, indoor pool, anything imaginable no matter what
the price. Who will be my slave now?
I start to wonder if my godmother has children, or a husband; or
if she now is dead as well. All I know is her name. Nothing else; and
what a horrid name it is. This is too much for me to take. I thrust my
arm to my forehead, and drop down; exhausted. I have never walked 1
foot in my life, since mother always loved to carry me in her arms. She
said she had to stop when I was 16, but she never did. She carried me
all the way until 17 and and is now forced to stop by the unruly
power of death. I look behind me and see my castle within reaching
distance.

2- them
What do you think she will be like? Jessabelle remarks.
I bet shell be nice, and pretty, and maybe even do our hair!
Annabelle adds.
Or maybe an evil witch that will eat us both! They laughed
uncontrollably at this joke. What they didnt quite recognize yet, is how
spot on they were. Being a witch is my best talent.
They sat in their tall and feeble room, babbling, and thinking
about all the possibilities I could be. Gosh are they in for a treat. They
kept chatting about how maybe I am a blond, maybe I am a brunette,
and maybe I dont have any hair at all. If I am skinny, or tall. Blue eyed
or brown.
I vision her having chocolate eyes and hair, and a lovely black
dress, dark as night. Annabelle suggests.

I am the complete opposite of whatever dark queen they are

talking about; for I am blond and have blue eyes, a beautiful dress to
bring out the blue in my eyes, and I will not be doing any touching of
their dirty hair. I am much too mature and clean for such childish and
germy things.
3- where am I?
The snow is fresh and white like a kind and warming blanket, yet
it screams whenever I thrust my wolf-fur boots into them, yelling as I
put my full weight onto it. Each time I step it screams at me to pull my
boot out as it starts to melt ever so slightly.
All I see around me is white and dots of green. Just in the far
distance, I can see a thin smoke rising and disappearing into the air, as
it grows larger and thinner like pizza dough. I decide to follow that
single smoke. My dress is soggy and dragging at my feet, while my
legs and arms look as if there are tiny bumps forming. Underneath this
disgrace, my skin is red, and shows my dark red veins through my skin.
I never knew I could possibly look like this. My arms and fingertips are
so frail and dry they can barely move. I rub my arms and legs
constantly trying to get this reality out of my head.
The soft yet powerful wind possesses and isolates me from the
reality of where I am, making me quiver. My hair is blowing behind me
in the wind, making my neck as frail like it has never been before.
The whirring of the wind is getting stronger and forces into my
ears, making me even colder than before. I have been walking for what
feels like forever now. My castle is far out of sight, as well as any other
life. The only reason I am still alive is that smoke. I know now that this
is my godmothers house. I am so close yet so far; so hopeless.
Another hour passes. I can now finally see the small cottage owned by
my godmother. My feet start stomping faster. The snow starts
screaming louder. My hopes get so high my body cannot express them
enough to let my energy out.
Finally. I whisper to myself with a smile. My lungs are so cold I
can barely get the word out. It feels as if a rock is bulging into my
throat, and it grows larger and larger each step I take.
4- waiting
My feet are stuck the snow. Maybe I should go back I think to
myself. Maybe this was a mindless idea of mothers. It is only what she
wanted and she is dead now. Lifeless, with no power. Just as I. My mind
is pacing back and forth pondering on the decision. I have walked for 6

hours, three hundred miles to get here, and now I start to think. I
reach out my hand to knock on the door; but my dress in the wind is
holding me back. The wind is helping it pull ever so hard towards
home. Dragging me; hopeless and frozen. I let go of my strength. I am
pushed on the icy floor with a big thump; hoping no one is awakened
by the grounds cry.
My hope is left behind.

5- arrival
The door is now slowly opening, screaming, squeaking, yelling in
resistance as four eyes slowly arrive illuminating my obscured vision of
their dirty home. It is only about 3 stories tall. Did mother even know
these people? I am thinking. If she did, she must have really been out
of her mind.
We are staring at each other, exchanging blinks. My fury builds
up, as they are not helping me off the ground in a panic to see my
appearance. They seem dumbfounded; or just plain dumb. Their hair is
poorly washed with ends split like a banana peel going in every which
way, trying to find each peels place. Both of their eyes are green and
bright, the color of vomit. And their eyelashes so sad and small, you
can barely see them. And the far worst of all, their clothes. Why the
heck would mother ever want to send me here!? I keep on lapsing in
my head. What idiots. They arent coming to my service and helping
me up, just standing there, as if I was a strange math problem. What
kind of horrible creatures are they? I close my eyes and wait.
6- the past.
Mother knew she was going to die soon, she just didnt tell me
until a week before. It was the longest time any of her secrets were
kept. She was dealing with pain for one full year, still bowing down to
my service. How could I not have noticed? Why didnt her doctors tell
me? I am staggered how I could not have seen the huge bulge on her
hip; or noticed the sudden presence of her joy for being involved in my
life and for still living every day. My oblivion was so large; it could have
been there for even longer. She called my godmother Teresa the day
before her death leaving her no choice but to take me. Were these
people the only ones she knew? Once I came along, she was constantly
at home, fixing me dinner, washing me grapes, (which by the way are
my favorite food) doing laundry, and ordering her co. servants around.
She had no time to be sick or tired, just to be thankful she had
something to do to keep her busy and out of trouble. But she was in

trouble. Her body was eating her alive, cell-by-cell. Hair by hair. Each
one to never be seen again. But this is in the past and I am moving
forward, trying ever so hard to figure out what I will do with my life
now; without her.
7- now.
The sunlight is grabbing my eye sockets and drying them out.
The whiteness of the snow reflects onto my dry and frail purple skin,
making me feel how frozen I am. The door is opened again. The two
creatures take deep breaths. Maybe theyre two headed with one body.
This time they manage to get one stupid word out.
Mmm Hello. The taller one says.
Would you like any help? The other one suggests. What a dumb
question. Am I supposed to get up by myself? They are like humpty
dumpty.
WHAT DO YOU THINK!? How am I supposed to get up with no
assistance!? I am done with patience. The anger of my travels comes
gushing out. IT HAS BEEN TWO MINUTES AND COUNTING AND YOU
PESANTS HAVE DONE NOTHING? Silence fills my voice as well as their
eyes.
We are so sorry, finally they move and help me up with their weak
twig arms. We were wondering if we could help you recover from your
mother with a ticket to a dance party? They offer once we get inside. I
am silent and swerving my head every which way, wondering what dirt
bag place this is, not realizing their peace offer. Their chairs are hard
and brittle, nothing like the kings chair I had at home. I want to go
back. I dont want to be here. My blood and skin feels stuck, weak, yet
so angry and powerful at the same time. I do not know how to react
except to be silent, and get a feeling for this ugly hopeless home.
8- the house.
The floor is creaky, the roofs are leaking, need I go on? It is like
this whole place was made 200 years ago. What a dump.
Show me to my room. I demand
Youll be sharing with us! They reply in excitement. Can this day get
any worse?
Where is your mother! I yell.

Same place yours is. The tall one adds with a wink in her cheek.
Silence kills the room as we stand waiting for one to break the horrible
silence.
Ill just find a room myself. I say. I pick up my dress and head up their
crooked and windy wooden stairs, tripping along the way. Finally I hear
them call, I dont believe we introduced ourselves. I, the tall one, am
Annabelle, she remarks, followed by, and I, am Jessabelle. Would you
mind letting us know what you are called? I throw myself on the
largest bed possible and reply:
I will tell you once one of you rats hands me a large vine of grapes.
Straight away! My hunger is turning into anger by the second. It has
already been ten seconds. I decide to close my eyes until I hear
footsteps.
My name is Cindella. I say. She sets the bowl down next to me and
apologizes;
We are regretful for how your arrival has begun and we would like to
make it up to you with this. We offered it to you earlier, but we believe
you were too overwhelmed to notice. She smiles, handing me a limp
piece of paper.
What am I supposed to do with this? I ask. Turn it over. She replies.
I do as told for once in my life. All I see is just neon colors and white
letters. I shove it in her hand. Read it to me. I deepen myself into
the bed that smells of roses and perfume and listen with closed eyes
dropping my grapes into my mouth. She starts reading.
Dance party! Take friends to the gym room at near whitewood school
and get some punch, dance moves, pizza, candy and more! She
exclaims as if she were an ad person trying to sell me something.
Come at 6 pm and the party will end at midnight. Be there! She
finishes. We got three tickets for our mother and us but now that you
are in her place factually in her bed, we would like to offer you to
come with us.
Ugh! As if! I seize the paper out of her hand. No one will be going to
the dance but me!
But Cinde- I put my hand up.
No. It is too late. I am going, and you both are not. The decision is
made.

9- their plan
Jessabelle walks down the stairs in disappointment and anger.
She doesnt deserve us. What I just heard I know mother would not be
proud of our weakness and not standing up to her. Annabelle
whispers.
You cant say much more truth than that, Jessabelle replies. We
have been nothing but nice to her and all we get in answer is that
punishing face of hers.
We must punish her by the most cruel thing of ever living. Jessabelle
whispers with a grin.
And what is that? Annabelle asks, excited and interested.
Murder, of course. We shall do it tonight. At the strike of dawn, we
shall force her into an everlasting death. Jessabelle grabbed the finest
of their knifes, and began stroking it, like a soft and powerful child.
10- nothing but gore
I am fast asleep; dreaming good dreams of unicorns and fairies,
and then I hear footsteps. I lift my night blinds, but there is nothing to
see. It is as if a large black blanket is keeping me from the world. But I
ignore that fact and I put my night blinds back on and begin thinking
about my latest dream, dozing off back to a deep sleep.
Jessabelle, Annabelle whispers while gently shaking Annabelle.
Its time to do what is right. Annabelle silently pulls her thin covers off
of her, and puts on her fuzzy slippers. They silently creep into my
room, making sure I am in my deepest sleep. Jessabelle skips over to
my bed, where I lie lifeless already, with just the silence of our three
breaths; soon to be two. Jessabelles eyes are shut tight and her teeth
clenched, with her knife above my small and sour heart.
Lets get it over with. On three. One, two
I feel the cold metal go through my chest, body, existence,
thrusting my chest and heart in half. My life flashes before me as the
blanket runs red. When I was born, when mother was alive, and how I
am now here after my long journey, slowly twitching as blood seeps
throughout me; into the mattress, into the last bed I will ever sleep in. I
hope now I will get to see mother. My eyes are closed, and white. I am
lifeless. Too weak to move or speak. My last gasp is taken. I relax, and
let the last bit of blood seep out of me. Two breaths are left alive from
the two that bring death.

Goodbye.