A different type of Cinderella.
Fairy Tales are Utter Bullshit.
But I was fine
My clothes were in tatters; the skin of my knees hanged in strips, and my hair was in ruins. My feet sunk into the slimy frog colored mud, and broken shards of glass dug into my heels like a motherfucker.
Every step I took was beyond pain, and to distract myself, I began to stare at a trail of my own blood, as it weaved through the marsh.
I could smell the grass and dead wood, only a few more paces...My remaining heel decided to break that moment, sending me flying into the mud, face first. Mouth full of mud, I fought against whatever was left of my oversized gown to get out.
But I was fine.
I was more than fine.
Even better than compared to what I would to do to that bitch of a fairy godmother if I ever got my hands on her. Happily Ever After, my ass...my foot upherass, I mean. With a deep gurgle, I spit the foul mud out and dragged my dress onto the clearing. At least my idiot of a stepsister was right about something, for once. Here, the grass was a sickly yellow color near the hole and the air smelled like nothing.
It was confusing but I didn’t dare stop. I already knew how it was going to be like but it was still strange here. Where was the sweet air? The soft pillows of grass? The melodramatic musical background? I mean, they were annoying but it was so quiet here. So silent the trees were dead with stillness, it was like the Hole was sucking everything into it, even my shadow.
The ground wasn’t as soft either, I noticed when a sharp jolt of pain ran up my leg. I was so close. I could crawl there. I could make it out of here. I could....
The moon was out, the craters showing a wide grin and slumber eyes. It shone full and bright, like my carriage painted an ashen dust. It was tempting, like a bag of pixie dust, I liked my lips thoughtfully finding blood there, it was so tempting to stay here and close my eyes and wish. Simply wish for everything to be better. For my father to come back. For a better life. For Mother.
I got up and ignored the pain, ignored the memoires, ignored the moon and the twinkling stars that stood like a curtain above it. It was tempting but I had learned my lesson. I had enough of fairy tales.
The Hole was nothing more than a gap in the ground. A crack in the smooth surface of a pearl. I looked deep into the darkness, but didn’t look back.
I was as bad as the rest of them.
I lived my life like an idiot. An absolute idiot that believed that wishes actually came true. That believed all the smoke and mirrors and sweet princely smiles.
My breathe came out in small puffs of perfume , and were sucked down the hole. Slowly I could see my life flash in front of my eyes and fall swirly into the hole.
Me, nothing but a dumb blonde, on my hands and knees scrubbing away grime and the traces of my father. While my stepmother and sisters laugh, voices stinging the air like bees. Their shoes tapping as the floor and hands, purposely, slamming the door. Now, there is only me, in a falling cottage, scrubbing away my falling tears. Stupid soap, stupid brush.
I leaned closer in as everything began to fade into a fuzz. It all came back and left me. The fairy godmother, the pumpkin and rats, my dress and glass slippers . My hair.
Around me the violins sang and lights blinked like the stars, and there was I, back at the Ball. Swaying with The Prince, envied by and admired. My feet rocked back and forth, until the lights dimmed out and I was alone. A pair of hands grasped me back, ripping my dress into lacey shreds. Was there really that much blood? The ghost of me flew from that castle, long before midnight. It was too much to bear.
Fairy tales are utter bullshit. There aren’t any white horse worth mentioning and all the dragons live in houses with the demons. The darkness of the hole was dizzying.
Where was I?
What was I doing here?
What was happening to me?
What went wrong?..
The ground cracked my body in half. It was too much pain. I couldn’t breathe, blood was everywhere. It was too much. Too much. I was so close. So close. If only I could get out of here. If only I could move.
“But wishes are only granted in fairy tales.” Her misty voice sang, leading a trail of melodic laughter, behind it. “Silly, silly Cinderella. Such a stupid little girl.”
I croaked a laugh of my own as light faded and the numbness came. Stupid bitch, fairy tales princesses don’t die. They turn into Snow Whites.
Besides my name is not Cinderella.