Cinderella

 

Thankfully Gail had left, so I would be able to walk to school like normal. I started down the sidewalk with my bag slung halfway in front of me as I tried to find my phone. Then I shoved it back in and ran. I had six minutes to get there.

I had to stop shortly though, my butt was still really tender and I found myself wishing that I had taken Gail up on that ride. I hobbled along doggedly, knowing that I would be late anyway.

I saw a dark form walking beside me. It was the non-existent guy again.

Just what I needed. “Go away!”

I could see his smirk from the corner of my eye and I started walking faster again, even though it hurt.

“You are angry.”

“No, irritated. It’s a human thing,” I said bitingly.

He walked smoothly beside me, having no trouble keeping up with my crippled gait.

“You are hurt,” he said simply, seemingly unaffected by my callous remark. And I thought I had been witty.

“Yes. I am,” I grated out, slowing down because I couldn’t help it. How I hated him!

“I do not wish to cause pain in you. I merely desired to speak with you.” I ignored him, glad that his radiance seemed to be ineffectual just then. He sighed coldly. “Alula, I feel that you will not speak to me again until your goal is reached,” he said musically.

“Yup,” I said shortly.

His black hair swirled around his face in a sudden gust of wind that scattered the leaves. His cold little smirk alerted me that something was up, but I wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders that day.

“Very well.”

We were there. Sitting on the same bench outside the doors to Kardana. I looked sharply over at him and realized that he had done it!

He looked coolly back at me, unfazed by my astonished expression. Actually, he seemed downright amused. I looked into is beautiful blue eyes and was entranced by them again. I hadn’t become immune to him after all. I just hadn’t been looking at him.

He was wearing what I always saw him in and his skin still glowed palely. The wind blew his scent towards me and roses bloomed. I found it hard to breathe again, my heart beating frantically against my sternum. The raw power of his eyes! Once more I fought against my urge to feel the silken strands of his hair, the smoothness of his skin.

My breath came out raspy, like I had run a few miles and I felt so incredibly lightheaded sitting next to him. My hands twitched in my lap, yearning to reach toward him, to see if his heart beat.

Unconsciously, I leaned towards him, breath catching in my throat as the scent of roses was magnified. The light blazed so brightly behind his dark eyes I feared that I would be swallowed in their depths. The thrall they held me in…

“Have you made the choice?”

I snapped back to myself, startled by his dark melodic voice. He was perfect in every way…no. I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned back, holding my breath. I couldn’t afford to be captive in his magic. I took slow shallow breaths and tried to clear my spinning head, slow my heartbeat.

Not only I had not become immune, I seemed to have fallen deeper. I opened my eyes and slid a little farther away, just to be safe. What had he said?

“The choice, Alula?”

I looked at him sidelong, afraid to fall again. “What choice? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His face was blank as he spoke again. “You wished to know my…name.” He said the last word awkwardly, as if he weren’t used to saying it, as if it was strange to him.

I considered his foreignness, his strangely beautiful appearance, his abilities. Yes, my words and my world would be strange to a creature like him. “I want to know it.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Have you thought about this deeply, it’s implications?”

I risked looking at him head on. What possible implications could there be to knowing his name? I tried again to think of something that would be dangerous about knowing his name. “Are…is it…dangerous, to know your name?”

He nodded stiffly, looking at something in the distance. Or for something. “There are those that wish me ill, and if a human knew something that had such hold over me…it would be unwell.”

I didn’t quite get it. So? I’m a human, that’s not such a big deficiency, is it?

He sighed dispassionately, coldly frustrated. He was doing that thing where he seemed to read my mind. “They would take chances to find my…name. To steal it from you.” The man looked at me intensely. “They would do anything to take it from you.”

A chilled sweat broke out on my forehead and I felt shaky. If anyone else had said something so cheesetacular to me, I would have laughed in their faces. When he said it, it made me afraid to be out in the open, even before I knew his name. “Who are these people?”

He looked away again and said quietly, “They are not people.”

A bell rang above our heads and I launched to my feet, fear making me skittish. It was the warning bell! I had two minutes to get to class! I looked over to tell the guy that I had to go, but he was gone again.

“Stop doing that!” I yelled.

A kid sneaking out of the school with a cigarette in his hand looked at me funny and told me to go to hell. I turned crimson and quickly dashed inside the school.

I barely made it to class on time. But I was still on time. The day went on like usual, but there was something a little weird going on. People kept turning around and stealing looks at me, then whispered conspiratorially to their friends. Some would turn around and start laughing.

I sunk down lower in my seat, trying to write legibly with my mummy hands and be invisible at the same time. One or the other had to go, because both at once was proving impossible. So I went invisible.

Except that didn’t work. People kept looking, people kept talking, kept making me want to die. I was walking to my fifth hour when some guy yelled out, “Cutter!” and melted back into the crowd with his snickering buddies.

That’s why everyone was looking at me, staring, pointing, laughing. They thought I had tried to kill myself. I bent my head down and let my tears plop on my notebook, making the cardboard swell and distort.

It did look like I had cut myself. I couldn’t wrap my bandages as well as Gail had, so I had started around my wrists to make the gauze hold still. They all thought that I had tried to kill myself, slit my wrists. They thought I had nothing to live for.

As if a floodgate had opened up, the dull chatter swelled into a giant roar and more jeering calls and accusations were thrown at me. I was surrounded by hate and loathing. There was absolutely no one who stood up for me, only revulsion and disgust. The waves of loathing were so strong and apparent I felt sick to my stomach.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I shoved people out of my way and ran as fast as I could push through throng of bodies. I heaved people out of the way with no regard at all, caring only about getting out.

Finally I made it out and into the cool open air outside Kardana. I was gasping for breath, making strange choking sounds as my tired lungs competed against my sobs. But my legs never stopped. I kept running, not knowing where I was going and not caring how much my body hurt. The pain in my chest was worse.

Cars blared their horns at me as I ran across the road, not bothering to wait for a red light. My lungs burned and I could barely breathe, but the taunting words in my head struck deeper.

Eventually I came to a stop and saw I was somewhere in the District. I knew then where I needed to go. I ran again even though I was felt ready to pass out from exhaustion and fatigue, knowing that if I stopped, I wouldn’t start again. I had to find Gail.

I wandered up and down long twisting streets and alleyways, my muted sobbing echoing down from the buildings. Finally, I slowed and came to a stop, sliding down to collapse in a heap against a brick apartment. I couldn’t go on anymore. Shame and weariness defeated me, and I curled up with my arms wrapped around me.

I don’t know how long I sat there, not thinking, not moving except for the dry sobs that shook me when I couldn’t cry anymore. The noon sun sank until I guessed hazily that it was four or so, not really in any condition to be sure. It would be dark soon.

A deep faded green door snicked open to my left and a girl about my age poked her head out. “Come on Maxie, go outside already! It’s cold!” A smoky grey cat strutted out the door with her nose in the air, sniffing around her disdainfully.

The girl turned her pigtailed head in my direction, shimmering blonde hair bouncing in loose curls. She gasped and stuck her head back inside the door. Soon she looked back out again and scrutinized me. Warily she took a step forward. I didn’t move.

Obviously decided that I wasn’t a danger she came towards me cautiously. I looked up at her forlornly. She took a step back, her eyes wide in shock. I must have been a mess. Squaring her shoulders she stepped forward again, as if proving to herself that she wasn’t afraid.

“Are you okay?” she asked me. “You don’t look so good.” I decided that she wasn’t the brightest cookie in the jar. That had to have been the understatement of the year.

“Are you lost?” She tried again, bending over close enough that I could see pale brown freckles under blue eyes. I nodded fervently. She seemed relieved that I responded.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet, making me choke on another dry sob. The girl didn’t mind my bandages and tear stained face. She only looked concerned. “Come on, I’ll get you there!”

The girl was taller than me, though only by a few inches, but her long legs made it hard for me to stumble after her. She had brought me to a large plaza that vibrated with life. The girl smiled comfortingly at me. “I can get you anywhere from here.”

I squeezed her hand tighter, afraid she would disappear if I let go. “The carpentry shop,” I rasped dryly.

She looked blank and a wave of panic roiled in my gut. “Which one?” she asked.

Relief washed through me and made my knees knock. “Malachi’s.”

She nodded confidently. “Got it.” I followed her through a maze of lefts and rights that I couldn’t remember no matter how hard I tried. Never once did I let go of her hand, but she didn’t seem to mind.

We arrived at last and my legs almost gave out on me and turned to jell-o. “Thank you!” I exclaimed hoarsely.

She flicked her pigtails away from her face and smiled brightly. “Anytime!” I think I gave her a strange look, but she didn’t seem to notice, so I’m not sure if I did or not. That was a really weird answer.

At last I let go of her hand and tried to balance on my own feet. “By the way,” the girl started, “I’m Cinderella. But my friends call me Cindy.”

What the--? I stumbled a little bit and swayed on my feet. Was she for real? After a minute my manners reemerged and I told her my name.

“Ooh,” she cooed, “You’ve got a special name too!” I just nodded, unsure of what to say. Cindy started to walk away and called back over her shoulder, “Come visit me sometime, ‘kay?”

Trying not to sound too gruff I yelled back, “But I don’t know where you live!”

She turned a corner but her cheerful voice stayed loud and clear as it echoed back to me. “Just ask for Cinderella! You’ll find me!”

Not knowing what to make of the strange girl I walked up to door. I looked around blearily and realized that it wasn’t the service entrance. How did she know? I shook my head and gave up trying to think for a while and knocked on the door.

“Just a sec!” Gail’s muffled voice called out.

The door popped open and Gail had a huge smile on his face that quickly fell off when he saw me.

Reviews

[The Perfectionist]

Three in a row that I'm the only reviewer on.

Okay, find another expression besides 'mummy hands'. You've used it like six times now.

You know, I was willing to forgive it once, but now you're just not trying anymore. For one thing, I'm fairly certain people that altruistic don't exist, and more importantly, you're contriving things to suit your needs.

In case no one has ever told you this, let me give you a very brief lesson on storytelling. A good story is its own master. You, as the writer, don't control where it goes. You set the pieces in motion and then just write down where it leads from there. Everything has to work; everything has to make sense. If you start trying to f**k with that, you're going to get reviews like this one.

There's nothing about this that feels real, and that has nothing to do with the fact she's being followed around by an angel. You're plopping characters and events down when it suits you, and seemingly for no other reason. You need a tragedy? Bam, she falls on her a*s and sustains injuries that make no sense. You need a solution? Bam, kindly Gail and his dad offer to take her in. She needs to find her way back? Bam, Cindy is there. There's no logic here, just contrivances.

Now, I'm ranting a little, and in all fairness, it's not THAT bad, but you do need to give us something to go on. Alula is a whiny b***h and I'm not really given to sympathize with her. I kinda want to know what the angel's story is, but you bring him in so infrequently that I could survive not knowing. Gail and Cindy, as I said, come off as conveniences, and I don't care about them. Give me a reason to want to know what happens next!