Me: There are so many fanfictions about Max. And Fang. And Fax. Don't get me wrong. I love Fax. Like, with a burning passion. I personally feel that some of the other characters are left out sometimes from all the Max, Fang, and Fax fanfics. So I'm going to be weird and write A Cinderella story. But Max isn't Cinderella. Nudge is. And this is her story. (There might be a little Fax...)

Nudge: I can't wait!

I do not own Maximum Ride, and this is completely separate from the actual series. I don't own Harry Potter or Cinderella either.

I remember this day. How could I forget? I was only seven. I was dressed in a sleek, yet cute, light pink dress. It had short sleeves that flowed off of my shoulders like silk. Small white flowers twisted around vines that rimmed the bottom of my skirt and sleeves and around my neckline. The front went down to about three inches below the base of my neck. It looked surprisingly good with my cocoa skin color. My hair was up in a ponytail, falling around my shoulders in curls. My dark side swept bangs were clipped to one side. I looked at myself in the mirror, and I thought that I looked cuter than normal. Well, that made sense. I had to dress like this today. After all, my dad was getting married. Her name was Anne. Anne Walker. Soon to be Anne Batchelder. I didn't like her. She was going to replace Mom. Mom died three years ago. She didn't seem like a bad person. But it was another story when it came to her daughter. Her name was Ella. Her age was seven like me. She treated me like I was trash that someone left on her lawn. Whenever she looked at me, her face got scrunched up and she spat out nasty words from her mouth. Her dress was the same as mine. It went nicely with her slightly tanned skin. Ella's dark brown hair was up in a half pony tail. It was curled like mine. We were both flower girls because no one wanted to make things awkward between the couple. I told Dad that Ella could do it, that I didn't need to. He just smiled and said that he wanted me to be part of the special day. We both grasped a white wicker basket filled with crimson rose petals. The color contrast was slightly unnerving. It looked like blood that was spilled on pure white snow. Or really dark fruit punch. Yeah, let's go with the punch. It looked like a little kid had spilled fruit punch while making a snowman. The comparison to blood was a little too gruesome.

I wasn't thinking all of this at the time. I was too busy wondering what would happen afterwards. I would have a much bigger family after all. I was brought out of my thoughts as the double doors swung inward and light music started. We started walking along the isle in time with the music, spreading the petals all around the white pathway. Dad stood at the end of the path, all dressed up for the occasion. He had a smooth black suit top with a white button up shirt underneath. His tie matched the rose petals that Ella and I were tossing from our baskets. The chairs were filled with so many grownup faces that stared at the doors, hoping for a glimpse of the bride. The only familiar faces that I saw was Max in a simple spaghetti strap, royal blue dress that complimented her skin tone and dirty blond hair, sitting with her mom, Dr. Martinez. She was wearing a scarlet. It went really well with her Hispanic complexion and her curly, dark brown hair. I always thought that she was pretty, but that day, she was stunning. We reached the end of the isle. I walked off to the left, next to where Anne would stand, one step below the maid of honor. Ella went to the left and stood a step below the best man. Then the real music started. Anne walked down the isle a bouquet of the same red roses in her hand, her sleeveless gown fitted perfectly around her curves. She had a thick ribbon of that red color tied around her waist, and a headband of the same color keeping the veil on her head. Anne picked to colors for everything, so I guess you can tell that she really likes red. She was beautiful, but there was a coldness about her. I looked around, but no one else seemed to notice. I caught Max's eye and she nodded that she felt it too. The pastor was saying the usual speech about marriage, but the whole time, Dad only had eyes for Anne. I felt uneasy for some reason. Then the ending of the speech arrived.

"Do you, Jeb Batchelder, take this woman to be you lawfully wedded wife?"

There was love in his eyes as he replied, "I do." The preacher turned his attention to Anne.

"Do you, Anne Walker, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"Then I pronounce you husband and wife," he turned back to Dad. "You may now kiss the bride." They kissed for a few seconds. It was long enough for someone in the crowd to whistle at them. When they broke apart, they were smiling at each other. My heart sank as I saw nothing good in Anne's smile. There was something sinister in it.

Something evil...

I woke up to my alarm clock buzzing. My arm shot out from underneath my covers. I groped around for the off button. I found it then practically slapped it off. I can't believe I dreamed about that day again. Why couldn't I dream about unicorns and lollipops? The worst part is that the dream was all true. My dad got married to an evil woman, then died of cancer four years later, leaving me with her and her devil spawn of a daughter. I was eleven when Anne got the brilliant idea to turn me into her personal slave, because at the age of eleven, the only family I had that actually cared about me died. I am seventeen now, and am still Anne's, and by extension, Ella's, personal slave. I thought slavery was illegal, but I guess my history teacher lied to me.

I looked at the clock. It read 7:13. I was a little late. I hopped out of bed. I put on a pair of jeans that I got because Ella didn't want them anymore. I receive a lot of her hand-me-downs. I personally saw nothing wrong with the jeans. The worked perfectly well for me. I put on an Old Navy t-shirt that was plum purple on the bottom and faded into a light blue on top. I pulled my hair into a quick ponytail. No time for styling, I was already late. I threw open the door to my room and raced down the hall as quietly as I could, strapping my cheap, plastic purple watch. I stopped outside Ella's room. Glancing down at my watch, I saw that the time was 7:29. I made it in time. Just a few more seconds...

As it clicked onto 7:30, Ella screamed, "Monique!" Right on schedule. I opened the door.

"Yes?" I asked, even though I knew what she wanted. She was propped up against her numerous pillows, all as soft as a cloud. I should know, I'm the one who makes her bed. She was dressed in her silk nightgown. Her circular shaped bed, only further showing how pampered she is, was obviously more comfortable than my spring mattress. Ella's entire room was decked out in various shades of pink and red. I like those colors, but not this much all at once. It was like a magazine picture, not at all what a normal teenager's room looked like.

"Get breakfast started. I don't want to be kept waiting for the first day," she said. Right. Because today was the first day of our senior year of high school. As I walked down the stairs, I thought about what consumed my thoughts most of the time: My future after I leave high school. Whatever my other options were, I was leaving this house. I was going to be free of all this. I just had to last one more year. Now, time to focus on making breakfast. I don't suppose a pop tart would suffice? Of course not. I got out a frying pan, slapped a small slab of butter on it, and turned the stove on. While that was melting, I got out the pancake mix and mixed enough for about four pancakes. I got another small frying pan and started up the pancakes. Going back to the buttered pan, I cracked some eggs into it. I was tempted to add in some shell for a little crunch, but I would probably be grounded for all eternity. I was scrambling the eggs with a spatula in my left hand, and flipping pancakes with a spatula in my right hand. I guess you could say that I've had a lot of practice over the years. When everything was done, I set the table for them. There were two plates on the dinning room table, each with warm pancakes and a small pile of eggs, by the time Anne and Ella came down to eat. The eggs, sadly, had no crunch. It's put the salt, pepper, syrup, and anything else they might ask for on the table. They sat down and started eating. Seeing that all was well, I went back to the kitchen. I quickly washed the dishes and popped two pieces of bread into the toaster. I jogged upstairs to get my backpack, and by the time I was back, my toast was ready. I went back into the dining room to collect all the food and dishes left over from breakfast. Putting the plates in the sink, I called to Anne,

"I'm going to school!" She walked into the kitchen.

"Don't yell," she said. "I'll have a list for you when school's over, so come straight home."

"Yes, Ma'am." I'd found out when I was twelve that calling Anne "Ma'am" seemed to put her in a good mood. I like her good moods. She leaves me alone when she's in one of them. I watched as Ella got into her dark red 2013 Chrysler Sebring Convertible that she got for her sixteenth birthday. For my sixteenth birthday, I got a pair of socks. Talk about a Harry Potter moment. Too bad Hagrid isn't coming to tell me that I'm a wizard and whisk me off the Hogwarts. I am stuck here for now. With that pleasant thought, I started walking. Luckily for me, as soon as Ella was out of sight, Max drove up in her sleek, 2012 black Ford Fusion. She always picked me up. Max didn't like to talk about how much money her mom makes, being a vetranarian and all, but we can just say that they lived comfortably. She rolled down her window.

"Hey, stranger. Need a ride?" she called. I smiled at that. She made that joke all the time, but she was the type of person who could retell a joke a million times, and it could still be funny.

"Well, if you insist," I replied jokingly.

I climbed into the passenger seat, and tossed my backpack into the backseat. Max was wearing her usual jeans and a plain t-shirt type of outfit.

"Max, it's the first day of school! Why couldn't I have picked out your outfit? With all the stuff in your closet, I could've completely transformed your look! You would've knocked some guys' socks off! I can picture it now, you walking through the hallway, so confident in your look that you make other girls jealous, and leave a trail of jaw-drops behind you wherever you walk,"

"Nudge!" She used my nickname as she fake gasped with shock. "Is there something wrong with the way I dress?" she asked, daring me to answer.

"Yes," I said without hesitation. "What you wear is shapeless. You need to wear something that shows off all of the curves that you hide by wearing baggy crap."

"Okay, you can dress me up like your personal Barbie doll, if you wear something to, as you put it, 'show off all of the curves that you hide'." I groaned.

"Ella would make my life go even further into heck if I tried to look pretty, and you know that." Max shrugged.

"I guess I won't be your Barbie then," she said in an almost convincing regretful tone. Just then, we pulled up to Hedge Grove High School. The final year of being in high school was starting. I just hope it goes by quickly and smoothly.

That is the end of chapter 1. Should I do a chapter two? Please tell me what you think. And I am not aware of a real Hedge Grove High School, but if there is one, and you go to it, more power to ya. Sorry that Ella's bad, but she's the only stepsister that I could think of. I couldn't use Lissa or Dr. Wonderful cuz Fang isn't Nudge's prince charming. So, yeah, sorry.

Stay awesome and fly on,

Fighter