Cinders

First off, my name is not Cinderella. It isn’t even Ella. It is Eleanor. Never trust the stories you hear. You probably shouldn’t trust this one either. I still do not know completely what happened that night. But still, I will tell you what I know. See, I was young and innocent, but still, I wasn’t stupid or helpless. And I definitely did not have any fairy to help me. I was alone. But to tell the story of that fateful night my life changed, I must tell you the story from the start. One can not simply start in the middle of the story. I must tell the beginning. My father. He was a wealthy man. I was loved by him, and given anything I wanted. I would tell you that I was not greedy or prideful, but the truth is I was. But I was only a child. One should should never judge someone from first impressions.

It turned around when my father married a new wife. Mother was so dear to me, but this new wife was nothing like her. I did not like her. I followed my father’s advice and tried to give her a chance. All though she was not like Mother, she was still nice. She treated me like her own two daughters, Grace and Joy. Grace and Joy also treated me well. They played dolls with me. But then Father got sick. We all cared for him, but it was no help. A month later, he died. He left everything to my stepmother. All he left me was a single tree in the yard. It was a beautiful weeping willow. I cried at that tree for hours and hours. But unlike the stories, no magic came from my tears. Just salty water. After my father died, my stepmother became the richest woman in our country. She became renowned across the nation for rivaling the king’s wealth. It was not uncommon for a man to have wealth like this, but for a woman to have such money was unheard of. Rumors spread of her: how she is wasting the money, how she does not have a job, how her sisters are being spoiled, and how she had a stepdaughter that was hidden from the public. All of these were true. My stepmother shut out all reminders of her husband, including his daughter. She told me that I should be thankful that I was not left on the streets to die. My assumption as a child was right. One should should never judge someone from first impressions.

Life went on. I spent my days serving my stepmother and her daughters. At first Grace and Joy were still nice. They treated me no different. They did not understand that I had lost everything. But then my fancy dolls were taken from me and given to them. They realized that money was power. And they now had my money. Once they realized that, they treated me differently. They told me to pick up their toys, and they wouldn’t let me play with them. There was one toy that I loved the most. It was a porcelain doll. It had the most beautiful dress on with frills and lace on the hems. I named her Jane. One day Jane was sitting on the floor when I was picking up the toys. I had been waiting for this moment. I carefully took Jane in my hands and hugged her. I started to cry. I wish Jane could take me away from the house. But then, Joy raced into the room. Grace followed behind her. She screamed and grabbed Jane. “You have been playing with my dolls! How dare you! I own this doll now that your sorry father is dead. Get over it! Now, put Sally on the dresser next to the other dolls.” She reached out her hand with Jane in it. I tried to take it, but right as I reached out, Grace dropped Jane in the floor. Her porcelain body shattered into a thousand pieces. “Oh, never mind. Clean up the mess.” With that, they walked out of the room firmly with their heads held high. Jane was not there for me. I thought she would be. I thought she would sweep me away and I would be safe. Instead, she shattered, just like a Mother. Just like Father. One should not judge someone from their first impressions.

Years past, and I grew older. I matured and was given harder tasks. Instead of cleaning messes, I was to prepare meals and go out shopping for my stepmother, Grace, and Joy. Grace and Joy were focused on one thing: marriage. My stepmother had made it clear to them that she did not want to die alone without knowing that her daughters had no one to take care of them. But more importantly, she wanted more money. All of the money left for her was starting to run out, and women are not allowed to have jobs. This means that she will be left without riches if her daughters were not married. I learned something from Grace and Joy. The only way I was to get out of this situation is through marriage. I would be able to live with the man. and in doing so, renounce my old life. This is what the stories all get wrong. They all tell the reader that I married for love. I was helpless and the prince saved me from my terrible past. The prince did not save me. I saved myself by getting the prince to fall in love with me. The stories say that I accidentally bumped into prince who was in disguise. Obviously, this is not true. I planned the whole thing out. It was no secret that the prince checked in with the commoners. He always wanted to make sure that there were no rebellions or revolutions happening. I literally ran into him as he was observing a shop. Ironically, it was a shoe shop. I pretended to fall down and the Prince helped me up. I made pleasant small talk and I made the first connection. He now knew who I was at least. Part of me hoped he would recognize me and take me away, but I knew that this could never happen. My doll Jane taught me that a long time ago. As I turned to go, the prince called out. He invited me to his palace the following night. He was holding a ball. He gave me a small piece of paper with the formal invitation. I smiled and walked away. Once out of sight, I started to cry tears of joy. This could not have gone better. This could not have gone better. I thought that the prince was unkind, uncontrollable, and unyielding. I thought that he would never be kind to someone like me. He barely knows me. And yet, I was able to gain favor with him. One should not judge someone from their first impressions.


The next day I worked on my dress. My mother had worn it to her own wedding with my father. It was outdated and drab, but it still shone. I whispered gratitude to my father and mother as I made alterations to it. I removed some of the frills and added a bright red ribbon around my waist. It was beautiful. After working on it for several hours, it was finished. It was nearly time for the ball to start. I put the dress on and smiled at myself in the mirror. It is now or never. This is my only chance to be saved. A tear starts to form, but I blink it away. I have no time for crying. I needed transportation. And the only carriage we had belong to my stepmother. I would have to be forced to ride with them. I heard the bell calling me to the kitchen. It was time for their early dinner. I quickly changed out of the dress and came downstairs. I fixed a couple small sandwiches and waited for them. Grace was the first to enter. She was dressed in a green dress that flowed on for miles. She had poofs of fabric laced onto her shoulders, and a beautiful exposed corset. Joy followed in a blue dress very similar to Grace’s. They both looked stunning. I looked down at my drab old fashioned dress. It might be plain and simple, but it was my ticket there. Suddenly, I heard the tapping of a cane. My stepmother strode in. “Grace, Joy, tonight will change your lives forever. You will meet many people, and one of you will swoon the prince. He will fall in love with your beautiful bodies and will soon be wed. You should be thankful I was able to get these invitations for you two. I had to twist many of my moral standards with the Stewart to get these.” I was stunned. “Eleanor, Please have our beds ready for us tonight. I forbid you to leave this house. What is it that you are carrying. Eleanor, bring that here.” Grace snatched the dress from my hands. “What is this? A old rag you found in the cellar? Mother, what a disgrace!” My stepmother’s eyes look in recognition. “Your mother would be ashamed. She was a rat but using the same dress she wore to sneak into a party without my permission? I am ashamed of you. I took you in when everyone. I gave you food. And you turn your back on me and betray my trust? Eleanor, go to your quarters. You will be without and water all week. I’ll let you out when you have learned to respect me.” She took the dress from my hands and teared its sleeve off. She dropped the dress on the floor and laughed. I did not shed a tear. I turned around with a solemn face. I walked out of the room, up the stairs, to my room. Then, I cried. I sat there by myself thinking of crushed dreams. I heard the door lock. I was alone in my locked room without anything but my hopeless life. Then, I realized something. How did my stepmother know that that was my mother’s dress? Had she seen it in the attic before? My father never mentioned my stepmother being at the wedding. Is there something more to the story he hadn’t told me. After everything I knew one thing. One should not judge someone from their first impressions.

I hear my door unlock. I look up. The door slowly opens. Joy stands before me. She looks sweaty and panicked. She quickly rushes down and kneels down hugs me. “Eleanor, are you okay? I can not bare leaving you like this. After all of these years of watching my sister and mother treat you so awfully I had to save you from here. I rode home all the way from the palace to get you. I stole Mother's carriage. We are both going to the palace together. We are having the time of our lives! I have been pocketing the money Mother has been giving me. We have enough to run away together. We can both start a new life! I know a baker on the other side of town. He told me we can stay with him! Eleanor, this is it! We just have to make it through the ball. The baker said he would meet us there. Thomas really is nice. You will like him. I promise.” I look into her eyes. She was crying. Her makeup had run and her dress was torn. She could not have looked more beautiful. I hug her tighter. This was it. Finally an escape from this life. We needed to leave right now. “Now Eleanor, I have a dress for you. It’s not much, but it’s better than that other one. She pulls out a regal purple dress. It laid very simply and elegantly. I stand up slowly and change. It’s a perfect fit. I look at her dress. “Hold on, I can fix this.” Joy carefully changes out of it. I take it to my supplies. I bring the laces at the bottom up and tuck them in hiding the tears. I then add ribbons around the waist. I down the uptight hemline and made a choker out of a shred of fabric torn off. It isn’t much, but it looks better than it was before. She takes it and smiles. She looks wonderful in it. We walk in it of this house. I do not look back as we stepped into my stepmother's carriage. And yes, it was not a pumpkin. There was no fairy godmother. There was something better: a sister. Not any evil stepsister, but a sister who saved me. Grace saved me that night. The person I never thought could change. One should not judge someone from their first impressions.

The carriage technically did not get us all the way. Ironically, we ran over a very large pumpkin, breaking the wheel. We were both okay, with our dresses intact. We walked the other half mile to the palace, and we both laughed at the trouble. We were almost free. It was the first time I got to see what Joy was actually like. She was kind and generous, but more to that, she had a joy around her I never saw before. Before, she was always reserved and quiet. She stood underneath her sister Grace, and obeyed her mother's every word. On the walk there, she laughed and made the best out of everything. She was loud and funny. Her name fit her perfectly. We arrived at the palace, and after we cleaned the dirt off of our feet, we were ready. My shoes had broken in the walk, so I was barefoot. I had no glass slippers. Those would come later. As I walked into the palace with Grace, we were stunned at the elegance of it. My stepmother had always talked of the beauty of the place when she visited the Stewart, but seeing it was something different. It was all made out of glass mirrors. It looked as if it went on for miles, one could not simply look at a wall. You felt like you were lost just by standing at the top of the stairs. "Halt. Who are you? Where are your tickets?" The guard was standing behind us. Joy and I spun. I had forgotten my invitation from the prince. It was with my other dress. I could not get in. I was this close and yet I was denied. But you know I went to the ball, so you of course know I made my way in. I do not know how it happened, but right as the guard was trying to take us away, the Prince looked up. "Guard, leave them be." With that, the guard flushed and turned away. The prince started walking up through the crowd and up the staircase. He met us at the top. He looks more regal than our meeting in the town. "I never believe I caught your name at our meeting in town. And who is this lovely lady next to you?" We both blushed. Joy answered for us. "My name is Joy. This is my sister Eleanor. I brought my younger sister to find a suitor. I have found small love with a baker, but she has found no one. Would you do my sister the honor of a dance?" I was stunned. Joy had asked the prince to dance with me. We already had an escape planned. But still, as I looked into the prince's eyes. I understood. Joy had felt it too. Her plan was for me to be safe. And being protected by a king counts as safe. The prince smiled and took my hand. I looked back at Joy. She is smiling back at me. I mouth a silent thank-you to her. She smiles and turns. She seems of be looking for the baker. My attention shifted back to the prince. He was looking at me with concern. I compose myself and give a cheerful smile. "Please excuse my sister. She has been looking for me to marry. She only wants the best for me. You do not have to stay with me. I only wish for one dance with you.” He smiled and took me onto the glass floor. He put his arm on my waist and we dance. “So, Eleanor, is this your first ball? You seem to be in shock of the palace.” I nod briefly, concentrating on the waltz. “Here, please do not get caught up in the dance. Let’s go somewhere else. We can talk more easily there.” He takes my hand and leaves me past the crowd of people staring at us. There faces seem to be in shock as I am led through a mirrored door into a garden. The prince looks back at me and I give a small smile back. He leads me to a small bench near a pond surrounded by cattails. We both wait for the other to speak for a while, and I am the one to break the silence. I spoke in a very caution and measured tone. “Thank you for bringing me here. You are a very charming prince to do such a thing to a woman you have barely met. I know that you know my name, but that is all. I am forbidden to talk of my home life, and I do not anything but a home life. Your life must not be very secret like mine. It seems every moment of your life is documented. What must that be like?” He only looked stunned at me for a moment, then recovered. “Well, my life is that of a normal prince. I look to my father until he dies and passes all of his responsibilities to me. I spend all of my days preparing for the day when I will receive the crown. I have to learn about our alliances and how to prevent wars. I have to dress and speak like I prince does. I also must have a queen to help me rule.” With this he paused to look me in the eye. “I need to marry soon. I held this ball to find the woman of my dreams. I know you come from lower class; you do not even wear shoes, but you are beautiful. I have a surprise for you.” He takes my hand and leads me further into the castle. He brings my into a large room with cream walls and tall pillars. In the center, sitting on a pedestal, are a pair of glass slippers. I take in a sudden breath in awe, and stare. He walks to them and picks them up from their velvet cushion. He brings them to me and kneels down to put them on my feet. “They were my mother’s,” He tells me as the shoe slides on. They fit perfectly. “Thank you, my prince. These are elegant.” These shoes show the impossible. The prince loved me. It seemed that he would never love a low class girl like me, but he does. I thought he was too royal for me, and that he was unlikeable. I was wrong. One should not judge someone from their first impressions.

The prince led me back to the garden. We sat down and made quiet small talk. We talked of the beauty of the palace, the elegance of the shoes, and the gratitude for one another’s company. “Thank you so much Eleanor, your company means everything to me. You are the prettiest woman I have ever seen. I am so glad I met you in the market at the shoe shop. Who knew you wouldn’t need shoes from there. I wanted to let you know that I have found the girl to make my wife.” This was it. This is the moment I had been waiting for. He was everything I had ever wanted. He was an escape from my terrible life at home being used to do what my stepmother wanted. He reached forward and kissed me. I kissed back. He slowly made his way on top of me. What was he doing? Does he not want to wait till marriage? I tried to pull his hands away, but he brushed them off. He started to feel my body. I tried to scream but he didn’t care. I kicked my legs and threw my arms, but it did not help. He only laughed. He leaned down to kiss me again. I bit his lip. He caught off guard, and I used the moment to roll of the bench. I quickly got to my feet and started running. I only looked back once to see him frantically trying to button up his shirt and vest. I ran back into the ballroom. Everyone was dancing and no one noticed me. I tried to run towards the stairs, but the mirrors made it impossible to tell which way was out. I tried running at one, but right as I made it, realized it was only glass. I ran around the side of the room until I found the real one. I climbed it running out. Everyone had noticed me by this point. I could here the prince calling behind me. I kept running up the stairs. I tripped. One of my shoes fell off, but I left it behind. I had no use for it. I thought of stopping to take off the other shoe, but I heard guards coming, so I choice to forgo the attempt. I heard the clock ringing as I ran out of the palace and out into the roads. There were no carriage, so I ran all the way. I took the back alleys, and avoided all loud noises. The guards seemed to follow me for about a half mile, and then lose track. Then I realized. Joy was still in there. She was looking for me. I had to go back there, but if I did, the prince would see me. I had no choice. I had to go back home. The prince had only wanted me for my body. He saw a poor servant girl and wanted to have fun. He did not love me. He never did. He only wanted me. His charm had only been seduction. All of his promises were lies. I should have known. One should not judge someone from their first impressions.

I will never know what happened to Joy. I pray that she was able to find the baker and run off without me. I hope she had a happy life and lived a long time. I hope that no one found out who she was and hurt her. She had no part in what happened after the ball. My stepmother and Grace deserve all the blame, not her. That night I went home and went to my room. I locked it and out away my dress and slipper. When I could run away I could seek the slipper in a foreign land and get money off of it. I would have run away that very night, but I couldn’t move forward any more. I wanted to stop being used by people and putting on fronts and having all of my dreams crushed. I wanted to sleep in the house I knew. I wanted to go back to normal: no hoping, no dreaming, no change. My stepmother and Grace were terrible, but at least I was safe from the prince. The prince could not find me here. He would never look for a scullery maid. He would look in the slums of town, not the wealthiest have use in all of the kingdom. My stepmother and Grace would never find out what had happened. They will think that I spent the whole night in my locked room crying because I did not attend the ball. The truth is, I spent the rest of the night in my locked room crying because I did attend the ball. I fell asleep for a couple hours and then awoke to the sunrise. At least some things I could count on. The sun rising, the day dawning, and a new start. I fixed breakfast for my still sleeping stepmother and stepdaughter and went outside. I watched the sun as it rose higher in the sky. It was beautiful. It rose above the pink and orange clouds that were scattered all around. I heard trumpets in the distance. I saw horses galloping from the palace to the town. I saw them stop at each tiny house and stay for a couple minutes before going to the next house. Were they looking for me? Our house was on the outskirts of town because of our wealth and all of the land we owned, but soon they would come to ours. Would they find out? I had no time to think about this though: I heard screaming from inside the house. Grace had awoken. I hurried inside to see her. She seemed to have been crying all night. Mascara had run down turning her into an ugly heap that seemed to be screeching at random times and unable to make coherent words. I served her breakfast and she scarfed it up and made noises I interpreted as “Please, Eleanor, would you be a doll and fix me some more of that wonderful breakfast you made for me?” Right as I turned away to prepare more, my stepmother entered. She quietly walked to her chair and sat down, ignoring both of us. I decided to make a double batch of eggs for the two of them. Once prepared, I served them both the meal. They ate in silence. Grace had stopped sobbing and was now shaking as she tried to eat her food. I felt bad for her. Had she not been able to find a man? Was that why she was upset? Or had something happened to Joy, and they were both there to witness it? I could not think about that possibility. I could not think what happened to Joy. I have to trust that she is safe. I hear horses approach the house. The prince had come. I panicked. I quickly grabbed the empty dishes from the two and rushed into the kitchen. I must not let him see me. I can hear the door open as I wash the plates in the basin of water. There is a man talking about a mysterious girl who made advances in the prince last night. She had lured him away and had thrown herself on him. She also managed to steal one glass slipper from the royal family as she escaped. Eleanor knew this was a lie. Everyone at the party who saw her with the prince knew this was a lie, but they must be silent. If they spoke up, they could lose their heads. My stepmother told him that she had not seen the girl. She said that she and her daughter were attending to other matters. I started to wonder what she meant by that, but my thoughts were interrupted when I heard the man ask if there were any more people in the house. I tensed. Would my stepmother tell him the truth? “I live alone my daughter, Grace. There is no one else here.” I let out a breath quietly. She had not told. But she had also lied about Joy. What did that mean? I heard a shout, and then the man yelled, “Check her house. She is lying! I heard men enter, and then I heard a voice I knew: the prince. He must have come in to help the search. I quickly run to the fire, the biggest place to hide. I hide within the cold embers and close the opaque gates. I must not be found. I hear voices enter the room. I hear them turn over bowls and dishes. I hear a man shout, “I have found the glass slipper. A woman in this house is lying! Arrest them both!” I hear them leave, and I relax. I am safe. I open the gates and step out. A man comes back into the room. He sees me. I try to run, but he quickly grabs my arms and pulls me outside the house. We all are gathered at the front door of the house. I see my stepmother’s eyes narrow when she sees me. Grace lets out a slight gasp when she sees me. I look down at myself. I am covered in cinders. I quickly try to rub some one my face to try to hide my looks. I could not let the prince recognize me. We all stand in silence. No one wants to break the tension first, and everyone looks just as nervous as the next. The prince scans the three of us, the man who was revealed to be the guard who stopped me and Joy checks his watch, and the rest of the soldiers look nervously on at the prince My stepmother shows no emotions. She is completely stoic. Grace, who is standing there nervously, wiping off her tears, breaks the silence. “I am sorry my Prince. I am the one who stole the shoe. I only wanted to show you that I love you. I wanted to be your princess and marry you. It has been my dream since I was young. When I saw you in the garden, I am sorry for my rashness. I love you and ask forgiveness and mercy for my wrongdoings. It was all out of love.” I wanted to react, but I had to remain unnoticeable. The prince seemed taken aback. “Thank you my dear, but you are not the one I am looking for. I have never seen you before today. If you really were the one, then this shoe must fit you. Here, try it on.” The prince bent down to remove Grace’s shoe and try to fit the glass one on. It fit, but was a little too small. I heard a inhale of breath and saw Grace sweating. The prince seemed to notice too. He took the shoe off and shook his head. “No no, this is not a perfect fit. This woman is lying. Guards, seize her. She has lied against royalty.” I stood rigid as I watched her get taken away. As she was pulled into the carriage, Grace looked me in the eyes. Her eyes shone with tears of broken dreams. I felt bad for her. I know one good thing can justify a lifetime of back, but as I watched her go, I felt that she had changed. One should not judge someone from their first impressions.

So after that the stories were true. The shoe fit, and I was married. The prince showed his mercy and kindness and decided not to kill me. Instead, we were wed and I lived with him. It was a loveless relation. The prince treated me almost as badly as my stepmother did. As I think about my stepmother, there were so many unanswered questions. Had she been at my mother’s wedding? Why had she been so mean? These questions haunt me at night as I lie next to my husband. As a wedding present, he published a story of my life. It was entitled “Cinderella.” This is the story most of you know. The village, believing this story, started to worship the prince. They turned on my stepmother, and she was hung a week after the story was published. I never learned the answers to the questions. I had to assume that Joy was dead, but a part of me still believed she lived on with her happy ending with the baker. The prince, who is now crowned king, grows tired of me. He sleeps with other women all around. I just ignore it. As least it’s not me this time. It is our anniversary today. I have written this paper to expose him. I hope that this will teach you all about me. The real me. Not the fairy tale one, not the fake one, but me. I do not know all of the answers, and I never will. But I hope that you will learn who I am now. And my dear husband, if you are reading this, I want you to know that I am not sorry for this. I have up up with you for long enough. I will outlive your legacy; people don’t even know your name. I don’t need your Love. I have myself. Just because people helped me does not mean that I am weak. I didn’t need them. I am freeing myself. Not through death, no, but something different. You could say I’m visiting Joy. But I will leave you. I just want you all to know something. One should not judge someone from their first impressions.