Cinderella Evans

"Bye slut. Hope you don't catch too many STDs. Remember the motto: legs closed= no baby clothes." My stepsister glares at me with a fiery passion, but I ignore her and move onto the next one.

"Hey hey hey. Better watch that calorie consumption. Careful, there's some barbeque sauce on your chin." She makes a move to wipe her face. "No no, your other chin." I shoot her a saccharine smile and continue on to deliver my final blow.

I scan my stepmother over slowly, as if appraising her appearance for something to criticize. Her chin has a proud tilt to it and her eyes shoot lasers of loathing at me. Knowing that I was slowly torturing her, I merely look at her once more and sashay away. Her eyes cloud over with confusion, showing her confusion. Then they narrow. She opens her mouth to say something, probably scathing, but then closes it when she rememebers that I am the future princess. After all those 17 years of living with that attention whore of a woman, I knew that the best way to get under her skin was to simply ignore her.

Now, dear reader, I bet you're thinking that I am such a bitch. But understand that those long years of torment, labor and excruciating pain were finally reemerging from my bottled up emotions, and now that I finally had the upper hand, I was going to dish it out. After all, don't say it if you can't take it, am I right? What person, no matter how pure hearted, was going to be okay with all the torturous years of cruelty, and not take the chance to reciprocate it? Not me of course.

Anyways, after I said my lovely goodbyes and farewells, I hopped into the Rolls-Royce waiting for me and into the arms of my wonderful and gorgeous boyfriend. He frowned a little at me and said, "Don't you think that that was a bit harsh?"

"Nope!" I replied cheerfully. "You know they deserve it anyways. And I know that you were totally laughing behind those dark windows, Drew "

The corners of his eyes crinkled up and I knew he was trying not to smile. "Okay, I admit, you were pretty hilarious. And after hearing about those horrible things they made you do, they probably do deserve it. "

"I know. Ok, no more worrying about those bitches. I'm ready to leave my past way behind me. I'm gonna sit back, enjoy the ride in this luxurious car with my beautiful boyfriend who also happens to be a prince, and be excited for my new life in the Royal Palace."

As the car drove on, I couldn't help but flash back to our first meeting. I was all dolled up in a fancy dress and killer shoes that my fairy godmother had given me, but I was so uncomfortable being at the ball, surrounded by all the fancy and high-society people.

When I enetered the ballroom, I was instantly hyperaware of my surroundings. And was it just me, or did everyone suddenly get quiet? Feeling self-concious, and praying that my wicked family hadn't recognized me, I lowered my head and made my way over to the only place I knew I was to find solace in: the buffett table.

However, looking down as you try to escape is never a good idea, and I soon learned that lesson when I bumped into a wall.

Wait, I thought, Since when did it become normal to dress walls in tuxedoes?

Slowly lifting my head up, I found myself gazing up into the face the guy I had just ran into. The guy who had been extending an arm out to help me out while I was disoriented by my pseudo-fall.

I gratefully accepted his arm. When he opened his mouth, I was flabbergasted by the words that came after it.

"Would you like to dance?"

Two minutes, 56 seconds. That's how long it took for his request to actually sink in. This boy, who I was starting to notice was actually quite attractive, was asking me, a clumsy, ordinary servant girl to dance? Honestly, I almost keeled over from the shock. I could only nod mutely.

The entire time we danced, it was quite awkward. I was still surprised that someone like him would actually ask someone like me to dance, so I didn't really say anything. He attempted various times to start a conversation, but me, being the most anti-social person ever, just nodded silently. The glares from the jealous girls on the side didn't help the situation either. To my glee I also spotted my two stepsisters within the crowd of envious females.

And owch, these shoes were definitely not made for walking.

I was sure that after the dance, he would want to leave boring old me and talk to some exotic supermodels.

Imagine my surprise then, when he asked for another dance! Trying not to seem rude, I politely declined. I actually was in dire need of using the little princess's room, and was trying to subtly slip away.

My companion obviously did not get my hint, and insisted on staying with me, even if I didn't want to dance. He steered me towards the dining table, where I got some things to eat, and then proceeded to guide me towards an aread with a lot of seats.

By this time, I really could not hold it in. Ignoring all social protocol, I turned towards my partner, who smiled expectantly at me, and blurted; "I really have to pee."

He burst into laughter. He pointed in the directions I would have to go while he was bent over from his chortling.

My face red, I fled the room. When I returned, he was still waiting for me, and when I approached him closer, I saw that his eyes were full of mirth.

What I also noticed about his eyes though, was that they were warm pools of chocolate syrup. I felt at home when I looked into his eyes, and after I came to this realization, I immediately loosened up and started to converse with him.

We just talked all night. Many times, pretty girls would come up to him and ask for a dance. Each time, he would turn them down. Once, I asked him why he kept doing that. He simply shrugged and replied, "I would rather stay here and talk with you."

He had no idea how happy that made me feel. That night was one of the best nights of my life.

In spite of the wonderful time I had, I thought all good things had to end, and I that I had to leave by twelve. It saddened me greatly, but when the clock struck midnight, I whirled around and escaped. Unfortunately, in my haste, I lost one of my slippers. There was no time to get it back, so I just left.

The following month was horrible. Every night, I would pull out my one remaining shoe, and reminisce over that night when I met the first person I could see as being more than a friend.

One day, I overheard one of my stepsisters talk about a mysterious girl who had captured the prince's attention all night long that he wouldn't even dance with anyone else.

It didn't take me long enough to figure out that I was the "mystery girl" and he was the Prince. I couldn't help but feel foolish and betrayed. As if a Prince could ever like a poor girl like me.

No one was more astonished than I was when he showed up, holding the glass slipper, looking as is he was a man who had finally found water after a year in the desert when he saw me answer the door. My eyes widened, but I knew why he had come.

At last, I let some of my hope come back. Someone who looked as haggard as he did obviously felt something, right?

I was scared though, of the punishment of my stepfamily if the shoe had fit me, and then you rejected me.

I strongly refused to try it on, but my stepmother's jeering overpowered my fear. I stepped forward and relished the looks on everyone's face when it actually fit. For a moment, I forgot about my possible consequences and just enjoyed the fact that I had finally shocked everyone into silence. Damn, it hurt to walk around in, but it definitely was my shoe.

The prince looked as if he were the luckiest man in the world. He leaned down and I was half afraid, half anxious for him to kiss me.

Instead, he whispered into my ear words that I had never dared to even dream about before.

He took me away from my own personal hell and he was prepared to take me to my new Heaven.

I smiled serenly at the nice memories of our meetings, snuggled deeper into the crook of his arm, and drifted off to sleep.