Author's Note: Well, I guess I'm going to give character/show credit to Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine, who wrote the brilliant show Into the Woods. And obviously it does not belong to me.

Oh, btw, if you're thinking, hey, this is basically "On the Steps of the Palace" set to Cinderella's thoughts, well... I was trying to get inside her head. So, that's kind of intentional.

Steps: An Into the Woods Oneshot

Cinderella was completely and utterly lost. Unsure. Unconfident.

Nothing exactly rare, but the situation was entirely different this time around.

This time, a prince was basically stalking her. Okay, maybe stalking was a bit of an exaggeration.

"Let's not flatter myself," Cinderella said under her breath.

It was times like these when Cinderella desperately needed her mother. How was she expected to make all these important decisions alone? She never had to choose anything, because there were never any options. At home, everything was cold and bleak and she had no say in it. Her stepmother and stepsisters made the choices for her… unsurprisingly, these choices were not ones Cinderella herself would've made. Her opinions never mattered, anyway.

Now, as she had wanted so much, her opinion mattered. It was her chance to make up her own mind and have an effect on what happens in her own life… and she felt like running away. How was she supposed to know what to choose when she didn't even know what she wanted?

Cinderella had no one to talk to. So she just thought to herself. She did this often, when she was locked up at home, away from her mother's grave. Father would be at work, Mother was dead, and the demons that were her step-family… well, talking to them about legitimate feelings would be hard, as they had no feelings except greed, anger, and hatred.

I'm not what he wants. I cannot believe that I lied to someone. I lied about who I was! I'm not a glamorous girl with a sparkly gown. Look at where I live. It's full of disgusting people who could not care less about anything or anyone that doesn't improve their reputation. I mean, honestly, I'm a slave in my own home. All of that… that doesn't make a princess. I'd embarrass myself. I'd get kicked out of the palace! And maybe he was drunk. How else would he ever want someone like me? I mean, really. Seriously? It's ridiculous! No wonder the three of them didn't want me at the ball... I don't belong in that world. Me. Clumsy. Average. Someone who would rather be reading than go for gown fittings. It was a joke. It had to have been. There is absolutely no way that the prince actually wanted me.

Wait a minute.

Hey. I am being too hard on myself. I'm worthy of that! I just... don't have it. I could be what a prince envisions. A drunk one, perhaps, but… maybe he wanted a real girl to be his princess. One that actually cares about the good of the land, the good of the people. One who maybe isn't the prettiest but is definitely the nicest. One that no one acknowledges, but had something special in her that no one ever paid attention to. That would be nice. Maybe…

She sat down on the steps, looking at the palace.

It'd be lovely to be a part of that world, even though I wouldn't belong. It's beautiful and pretty and I'd never have to fear being treated poorly. Like I meant nothing. I'd be treated like a princess. Well… I'd actually be a princess! She giggled, apparently a little bit tipsy. After all, she had never been to a ball. What was in that punch? Anyway... I wouldn't have to work. I wouldn't have to put up with cruel people who only cared about society. Okay, maybe I'd still be around people who cared about society, but… maybe they wouldn't be so mean. Maybe I could find a way to belong there.

Cinderella sighed, playing with the bottom of her hair.

What am I playing at? I would never find a way to belong in that kind of world. I haven't even had a proper education! I'd be a complete moron; I'd make a fool out of myself. I'm so clumsy… I'd be falling all over the place! I'd say something idiotic, or forget to bow or something. Or I'd snort in the presence of someone like the king. I would be awkward and completely unglamorous and -- no. That life is just not meant for me. If someone great were to happen to me, I wouldn't be locked up at home cleaning all of the time. Things would be so much better if they were meant to be. That upper class society... just look at me. And...

She was just so frustrated. She never pictured making decisions for herself being particularly hard.

I should go home. I really should. I should avoid any of this -- all of this! Cinderella, you'll be better off there. Somehow, you'd be better off there. I never have to worry about making the wrong choices there because I'm never given the chance to make any choices.

She threw her head back, looking at the night sky.

They don't care about me, there, but… I don't have to be something I'm not. I'm safe there. She bit her lip. But everything's wrong there. Everything. God! Everything's right here; why does the place where everything's right have to be the place where I would never fit in?

Cinderella began to cry. Nothing ever went right for her.

She began to get up, and then…

Maybe I don't have to choose anything at all.

A shoe, a shortcut, a way out… she grinned and began to take off one of her sparkling silver shoes.