*Edited 2/15/2015: Hello my lovelies,

If you're reading this, I'm sad to say that this chapter has been rewritten and you will never see the original again:( This chapter was originally written when I was 13 years old (so were the first 10 chapters). Because of this, the writing isn't something I'm completely proud of. So I tweaked some things to make it more to my liking! I left all my author's notes untouched and didn't change the plot, so no worries!*

Just wanted to do this for fun probably won't update so often since I'm already doing 3 other stories! But if people really do like it, then I guess I will update on a weekly basis! Please review and tell me if it's worth continuing!

Summary: So I was watching the Cheetah Girls (Favorite movie when I was little!) And I love their song Cinderella, and I thought, what if Cinderella wasn't so pretty, what if she was well, had looks like a dude. And thus this was born. Alexandra isn't the most girly girl, so after her stepmother pushes her too far she runs away, and meets our favorite Greasers! And this, is her story!

***IMPORTANT: DALLY AND JOHNNY ARE ALIVE!***

Enjoy!

~Missy

It was the first day of summer.

Goodness, this school year went by fast. Long hours studying, working on the weekends, no friends- terrific. In the end, I made the honor roll for the fifth year in the row and a teacher favorite. Most East Side kids hardly cared about their grades, but to me, it was all I had.

"Maid, are you done mopping the floor?" I heard my stepmother, Trisha, say as she walked into the wooden living room.

She was smoothing her short, blonde locks that seemed to tower over her head. I sighed heavily as I watched Trisha's shoes leave fresh tracks on the ground I had just cleaned. It had taken me an hour to get the floor to Trisha's standards, guess I would just have to start over, not like she was considerate enough to care.

"Almost…" I muttered, my ankles deep with cleaning products.

She glared at me and walked closer, "Well hurry up! Michael will be here soon and I want this place spotless by the time he arrives, understand?"

"Fine," I mumbled, not looking at her. Michael was her 'Boy Toy' and the last thing I wanted was to be here when he arrived. Nothing good ever came with Michael and me in the same room. We were the perfect ingredients for trouble.

Trisha approached me and gave me a dark and confused look. "Excuse me? What did you just say?"

"Uh, I meant... 'yes mother dearest'." I said through my teeth, trying not to get on her bad side and sound as pleasant as possible.

"Much better and would it kill to make yourself a little more feminine? You're so dull and boring. I've never seen a child that spends her days frowning over nothing." she snapped, walking away as her heels made a click-clack sound that echoed in the room.

When she was gone, I kicked the rag away from me and sighed heavily. "Well you're not my mother Trisha, so why do you even care."

Trisha was my evil stepmother- well soon to be stepmother, but I preferred to start practicing calling her my evil stepmother now. But evil didn't even begin to describe her, evil was a compliment for what Trisha was. She didn't even bother to address me by my nameor speak to me like I was one day going to be her daughter. It was like the book Cinderella, only my parents weren't even dead. I wish mom was here though, she would make things better…

I stood up, stretching my aching back and decided to get cleaned up before Michael arrived. I dragged myself to the bathroom and took off my bandana, letting my hair fall over my face. I'd like to say I was like Cinderella, beautiful on the outside and inside, but at the sight of my reflection, I cringed.

My brown hair was cut in a short bowl cut that reached below my ears and covered my forehead, passing my eyebrows. My face was sprinkled with freckles and my eyes were the dullest pale green color on earth, it made none of my features stand out. My figure was no better; my chest looked like a twelve year old girl- actually closer to a ten year old girl.

I had no curves what-so-ever, I was as straight as a board. How could I be more 'feminine' when I hardly looked female? I sighed, not evening wanting to get cleaned up, who was going to see me anyways? I went upstairs to my small bedroom and sat on my old bed, hearing it squeak slightly under my weight.

Growing up, you're told to be grateful, to appreciate everything you have because someone out there has it much worse. But no matter how hard I tried to be thankful, I always found myself thinking how much I hated my life. Maybe if I was prettier things wouldn't be so bad. Maybe if my parents hadn't divorced things would be better. But I would never know because this was my reality.

And it sucked.

My silver locket dangled limply from my neck and it's rubies shined in the dim lights. I yawned, stretching again, and went to my bathroom to take a quick shower before Michael came. If I wasn't in 'uniform', Trisha would kill me and then bring me back from the dead to mop up my own blood. She treated me as her private maid instead of her soon to-be fifteen year old step daughter. I think it's because Trisha hates kids and because she's a rotten twenty-six year old who thinks she's too good for the East Side.

I turned on the water and got in, avoiding all mirrors. The icy water hit me like needles on my back. I shivered ruthlessly; I was forced to shower last with the coldest water- Trisha's rules, not my decision. I closed my eyes and prayed dad would come early tonight, but those chances were as great as Trisha leaving.

Daddy was a business consultant, which needed his support 24/7, in other words, I had 24/7 Trisha support. Joy. We weren't rich, not rich enough to live on the West Side, but we always had enough, sometimes more. She was just here for the money, if it was real love, why would she need Michael?

Which brings me to the next worst thing, Michael. I had known of him since Trisha came, he was a friend of dad. But he soon became really close to Trisha and things just worsened from there. I don't know why I didn't tell my father, maybe part of me was hoping he'd just catch them. If I told him, he would end things with her and I wouldn't suffer anymore. But I don't think I'd be satisfied that way. Gosh, I was such an awful daughter.

Speak of the devil, the doorbell rung. I sighed, one of my 'maid duties' answer the door, naked, half dressed, or sick, it was my job. I turned the water off, grabbed my tattered baby blue bathrobe, and descended down the stairs. I could see him standing through the glass door and groaned as I opened it, here we go again.

"Alexandra, you should really talk to a doctor. I've heard of girls being born males." Michael greeted, chuckling, as he entered.

"Well good morning to you too." I mumbled to myself.

Michael could be a very handsome man, with curly brown hair and tan skin, but his disgusting ways overshadowed his appearance.

"So how's my favorite gal?" he said, running his fingers through my hair. I flinched back and smacked his hand away.

"Don't you dare touch me." I said forcefully, but since I was so quiet, it came out pitifully.

He laughed, and patted my head. "Aww, look how menacing the little princess is." he teased, his hand still resting on my head.

"Get away from me!" I said, trying to pull away, but I was so clumsy, I tripped backwards and fell on my bottom.

I felt my cheeks burn in embarrassment and tried to get up with whatever dignity I had left. But before I could stand up, I heard Trisha's footsteps entering the foyer.

"What is going on here?" Trisha gasped, glaring at me.

I quickly stood up and tried to explain, "No-nothing, he tried to-"

"She came on to me, I told her no, but she wouldn't stop! So I had to push her back." Michael lied.

I stared at him in disbelief,"No I didn't! He's lying, Trisha, please, trust me!" I cried. How could he stand there and lie? Trisha smiled a wicked smile, her mole above her lip rising.

"Oh really? Alexandra, darling, please go get dressed, it's impolite." she said sweetly. Maybe she did believe me… But she would never address me by my first name.

I nodded and scurried up the stairs into the safety of my room. I shut the door hastily and changed into my faded blue jeans, an oversized blue baseball shirt with a blue sweater on top. I put on my socks and sat on the bed, worried of what was happening downstairs. Maybe she had thrown Michael out.

"Alex, would you be a doll and serve us some snacks?" I heard Trisha call. Uh oh, this isn't good, she never referred to me by my nickname or 'doll'.

I was halfway down the stairs when I realized I wasn't in uniform. Trisha always wanted me to wear my apron and bandana when guest were here, that way it made people think we were rich enough to afford maids and cooks.

I hurried down the stairs, hoping she hadn't seen or heard me. But the stairs were old so they creaked under my feet. In our small kitchen, I got some grapes and old cheese and cut the cheese in slices, placing them on a platter. Then I got an already opened bottle of cheap wine and poured it in two glasses.

"Here…" I whispered placing it down on the coffee table of our living room. I saw her look at my clothes and smile.

"Ah, thanks Alex, you're so sweet." Yup, twice in a row, plus a compliment? I'm dead. I rushed to the kitchen, to put away the leftover food, but once I turned around to leave, a huge hand crossed my cheeks.

"Ow!" I cried, holding my cheek as I stumbled backwards.

"You impudent little brat!" Trisha hissed.

I wobbled a bit, but looked into her piercing blue eyes. "What did I do?" I cried, feeling my cheek sting in pain.

"Live, breathe, exist!" she said coldly, her voice rising with every word. I heard Michael laugh from the other room. That no good… I was so mad, I couldn't even think of what to call him.

"You need to learn your place in this world! Into the Punee!" she said, seizing my wrist, and pulling me to an empty room.

"No, no, please, I'm sorry." I pleaded. She was too busy unlocking the door to the Punee, to care. "Trisha, please-" She opened the door wide and thrust me inside.

"You need to learn that life isn't just some fairytale!" she hissed before closing and locking the door.

I crawled to the door and banged on it, "No! Please, I'm afraid…" I gulped, "Of the dark…"

The Punee was a small room in our house that received no power, no heat, nothing. It only had this antique drawer, an old desk, and a window. When I was twelve, Trisha first locked me in here for a day. No food, no water. I think she forgot about me considering how stupid she is.

After that, I stored an extra change of clothes and food, that probably has gone bad by now. Since I only owned over sized shirts and jeans, they pretty much fit me still. The last time I updated the clothes in here was six months ago, so I prayed the jeans weren't too tight. But I had lost a lot of weight, so that was good. I crawled in a corner, and nearly screamed at the sight of spiders crawling on a cobweb.

For the second time today, I hated my life.

Why did it have to be me? I wanted to help myself, but I had no idea how. I remembered once, years ago when my mother was still here, she took me to church. I remember the preist had said in times of distress, just call for God. Mother never went back because she thought religion was too controlling.

I wasn't religious, but I still remembered it and at this point, I was willing to try.

"Dear God… can you hear me? I need your help, I don't know what to do or where to go… give me a sign…" I whispered, feeling hopeless.

And just like magic, the light coming from the window seemed to shine brighter. I looked up confused, not sure what this meant, but I had an idea. I had to go. I couldn't take Michael, Trisha, or my workaholic father anymore. I couldn't take being locked up in the Punee until daddy realized I was missing. I wasn't going to sit around all day, waiting for some prince to save me. I'm not Cinderella, I'm Alexandra, I may not be the prettiest or the smartest. But I'm smart enough to know when life gives you a sign.

I had to trust myself.

I took a deep breath and stood up, opening the old drawer, shivering at the sight of spiders. I plucked up my old blue backpack and put it on my back. The window was kinda high up, but the drawer was nearby, so I climbed on top of it. I started to push the window open, but it was dusty, and squeaked- a lot.

"Maid! What are you doing in there?" I heard Trisha call. I gasped, but it still wasn't budging. I don't know where I got the strength, maybe it was the sound of the key that Trisha took out to open the door, or maybe it was God lending me a hand, but whatever it was, it helped me open it.

I immediately put one leg through, followed by the other, until I hit the grassy ground. By the time I was out, I heard the Punee's door open. At that sound, I rolled on my back and took off running in the hot sun. I heard Trisha shouting behind me as my heart thudded against my chest, but I ignored it running faster though the grass. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I was never going back.

And so, the story begins.

So should I continue? Please review with your opinion!