I have no disclaimers, for i have written this story, made and made up the characters. This is only a parody of Cinderella that you might enjoy. So have fun reading Chapter 1 and please tell me of any possible endings you'd like, or if you want to see more. I'll be happy for feedback!

Today, Ash thought back to the times he had spent as a boy.

He thought back to when he was a mere six year old, running around the streets with his friends, the smell of freshly baked loafs wafting through baker's doors. The cats on the street bathing themselves in sunlight as mothers rubbed the bellies and fed them niblets of fish. As 6 year old Ash ran about the streets, enjoying the familiar sounds, smells and sights, his mother, Evelyn, would call him in for supper, the regular roast meat, with a side of succulent vegetables and a little bowl of soup.

Heart-torn, Ash recalled the day his mother called him in for supper a fortnight past his 7th nameday. It was the day a thunderstorm broke over the small town, releasing a rainfall of water pellets and occasionally a little chip of ice. It would be considered a gloomy day, if not for the children who still danced about playfully in gutters and puddles engaging in a fun activity that would normally be considered drab or dull. This encouraged adults to dance, dance with the children, dance with the babes, dance in each other's arms.

Ash was part of this merriment, singing and dancing with everyone else, dainty hands of Faith, the girl from a few blocks down, held gently in his as they danced, danced together. It was a merriment, a joyous occasion for the town. Until Ash's mother gravely poked his head through a small crack that she had allowed the door to open. She called out to Ash in a cracking voice, and then allowed the door to open a bit more, enough room for Ash to squeeze through after her as he said goodbye to Faith.

The small wooden house was dim. The heavy stench of sickness clogged the air. The windows were closed, shut tight, sealed, barred and the drapes drawn. A sick feeling grew in Ash's stomach. What was wrong? Why was there no dinner on the table?

An image filled Ash's head of his pa, working hard as a welder, sweat glistening on his forehead, whistling a merry tune as he worked. The man he came across now showed no life in his eyes. He was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, eyes glossing over, still, skin yellowing, breath shallow. Ash stared out the window and saw Faith, unfazed by what was happening, dancing with Giorgio. A teary voice Ash assumed was his mother's said something like 'Your father is dying'. That very night, the grave words had rang with truth, almost as loud as the funeral bells that rang through the cobblestone streets that night as he and his mother joined the procession as the coffin was carried to the cemetery. It was buried in what others would say was a short amount of time, but to Ash it felt like an eternity.

Ash felt like he was drifting far away from his body, watching from another dimension, feeling sorry for himself, but not wanting to share the grief. Ash walked home not knowing, not thinking, not feeling. Only a boy…

A single tear glistened in Ash's eye. He let it fall.

Everything happened so quickly, Ash was playing alone outside his doorstep with a wooden soldier he had spent the last fortnight carving from a great oak log his father brought home. Two boys came up and started testing him and his carving, kicking dirt in his face. To Ash's great dissapointment, they stomped on his soldier, broke it and then threw it down a nearby drain. A male came down the street wearing a striped green suit and scarlet tie. Ash had never seen him around before, nor the boys. He was swinging pocket watch and carrying a cane.

He came across Ash and the boys, Ash beaten, sore and dirty, unwelcome tears streaming down his face, the boys plump, laughing menacingly. The man called the boys over to him by name, Henry and Todd. He congratulated them for meeting a new friend so fast. Ash had run inside to get his mother to tell her about these two rotten, spoiled boys and what they had done. His mother had come out to explain the problem to the rich man who must have been their father, but all he said was 'Boys will be boys,'. But then Ash's mother did something horrific. She agreed.

The pair married and shortly after, Evelyn died of the same sickness her husband had died of, leaving Ash in the care of the monstrosity that was his stepfather.

Ash's flashback broke from anger and he threw down his washcloth and knocked over the bucket. 11 years wasn't that long ago, but if you've spent that long cleaning a mansion every day, spending only a few hours deep in dreams, it feels like an eternity. Time drags on and on, pulling at you until you're as taut as a pulled string.

Ash's stepfather, Horace McGee, swaggered down the wide, marble staircase. Drunk. He threw grand parties every Friday night because he was rich.

'Ash!' Horace gave his stepson a lopsided grin, before his eyes were averted to the mess Ash had caused.

A frown replaced the drunken madness and he started yelling, his face turning red, Ash backing away towards the fireplace, Horace screaming inaudible words at Ash.

Ash's hand slipped in a puddle of water and his head fell back into the fireplace, which thankfully wasn't lit, but caused soot to fall down the uncleaned chimney. It billowed out, covering Ash from head to foot. Instead of being mad at Ash for yet another mess, he laughed.

'Now you've really lived up to your name!' Horace roared with laughter, enough to attract everyone from upstairs to come down and see what had happened. When they all flocked into the foyer and saw Ash sitting there covered in soot, they laughed as well. Although the grime that covered Ash's face hid it well, he turned red when he saw girls that were about his age mocking him as well, giggling behind their expensive fans in their silk dresses and lace bows. Ash got up and shook off, everyone screamed as soot floated towards them.

Well that made Horace mad.

'Go1' he shouted, before herding his guests upstairs, shooting venomous glares back at Ash. He wiped soot off his face, then noticed two boys standing in his path. Henry and Todd. They weren't what you would call handsome, but they certainly gave it their best shot, wearing rich silks and fancy bowties. They were definitely prestigious and rich, and if you gave them one glance you would know. But the brothers knew it wasn't about your looks it was about what was in your pocket: money. And the McGee family were one of the richest in the kingdom.

Next to Henry and Todd stood two beautiful women. Most likely the brothers' escorts. The one wearing silver clutched Todd's elbow and smiled sweetly up at him, the one wearing gold was daintily holding Matt's hand. Without meaning to, Ash felt jealousy growing in his stomach. He forced it down.

'Well, well, well,' Todd sniggered.

'A classic Cinderella,' Matt sneered. The girls laughed stupidly at his joke, snorting. Ash rolled his eyes.

'What do you want?' Ash allowed venom to tone his voice.

'Just to introduce you to our *ahem* gorgeous dates,' Todd snickered, a proud look on his face.

Ash raised an eyebrow. There was no mistaking these girls did posses beautiful dresses and were able to afford expensive hairdos, but they wore too much concealing powders, covering their natural beauty. They were just try-hards looking to marry into a rich family. They weren't even beautiful. Ash guessed his step brothers were just trying to impress them.

'This is the ever beautiful Edana Breggs,' Todd introduced the girl in silver. She had hair as black as a crow's eyes darker than night and skin pale as the moon. She had a long nose, longer than most and thick lips which were, under the lip paint, chipped and cracked and pale. She looked at Ash as if she had only just noticed him, like she only had eyes for Todd.

'Toddy, dearest, who is this filthy creature?' she turned her nose up at Ash, who was standing there, dumbfounded. He never knew snooty girls could be so rude. Even rich snooty girls.

'This creature,' Todd said, a little embarrassed, 'is, unfortunately, my piteous step brother. But come, we have had enough of this. Let us dance the waltz and drink punch upstairs.' With that, Todd and Edana left, Todd saying something witty, Edana giggling helplessly.

'I'm afraid we must go too,' Matt was saying. 'But first, this beauty is Cynthia.'

As Edana did, Cynthia gave Ash the most disgusted of looks. 'I can't say it's a pleasure.'

'Now, let us go. I'm sure you want to be no longer in the presence of this walking filth.'

'That's the best idea i've heard all day,' Cynthia gazed lovingly at Matt as they stalked upstairs.

Ash sighed. They were gone. After cleaning up the mess, he departed to his quarters to clean himself and change into new clothes. But you wouldn't really call a stableboy's bedroom next to the stables "quarters", would you? The floor was still scattered with hay. The was a small wooden bed against the wall, a little box next to it with a candle and a book sitting on top. A little wooden chest draw held his clothes, and a little round mirror hung above it. A wooden bookcase held many books. But Ash's favourite part about his bedroom was a loose floorboard under his bed. There was a little hole when you lifted the floorboard, and in it Ash stored his memory box. Thinking about this, Ash lifted it out of its hole and inspected what lay inside.

From when he was three, a rare coin he had found on the streets. From when he was four, a little paper swan, and for his 5th nameday a little stone mallet. But his most precious possession was what his father had given him a week before he had died. A little leather book, no bigger than Ash's palm. Ash's father had instructed him not to open it until he absolutely needed to. Ash wondered what he meant.

A knocking came from the door.

'Ash! I know you're there!'

It was Horace. Ash quickly hid his box and hurried to answer the door.

'Yes, sir?' Ash said, polite as could.

'I need you to go into town and buy more alcohol. We've almost run out,' although he was trying to remain calm, the expression on Horace's face was stressed. Ash sighed mentally.

'And how much do you have left?'

At the mention of how much was left, Horace whimpered. 'Only 10 bottles! 10! Please hurry! My guests will flip out if they find out my alcohol supply is low!'

Ash raised an eyebrow, for the second time in 10 minutes, then shrugged. 'I suppose. But I'll have to leave sweeping the basement and sorting the pantry to tomorrow if I'm going to make an alcohol run this late at night when most stores will be shut.'

Horace clapped Ash on the shoulder.

'Good lad,' and Horace left to go back inside.

Ash ran inside to grab his coat before heading out into the snow that had begun to build up outside. He noticed that the sky was grey, and snow was falling. The trees were dotted with white flecks all along the street. Ash wrapped his cloak tighter around him as the snow grew heavier. A blizzard. Ash pushed through the snow, knowing Horace would be mad, seeing kids fall down and mothers picking them up. The snow was really falling now. Ash could barely see 5 feet in front of him. He forged through, seeing mothers, children, workers, rush inside. Ash knew no stores would be open, but he continued on, hoping that he could see a lantern in a store window. But the light grew bigger and bigger, until someone bashed into him. They toppled over, the lantern snuffing out. Ash took out his lighter and shone it on the person. He could not see their face, but they wore a tattered brown cloak and by the looks of them they were no older than he. Small, dainty hands peeked out of large sleeves. A girl. Blood rushed to Ash's face. He helped her up, feeling a fool.

'Are you ok?' Ash asked. She said nothing, only staring at him. He could not see her features, but her light violet eyes seems to glow in the moonlight, reflecting the flame in Ash's hand. Maybe she was shocked.

'Who are you?' Ash asked, hoping she would answer. She blinked slowly, like a cat.

'Kristel,' her voice was smooth as honey. 'Kristel Maegyr, daughter of, uh, John Maegyr.' Ash raised an eyebrow. He had never known of anyone by the name of John Maegyr. He had a suspicion this girl was not who she said she was.

'Why are you out here on your own?'

'I could ask the same of you, sir.' she shot back. Avoiding an answer, Ash thought. 'What name do you go by these days?'

'Ash.' Kristel looked alarmed.

'Where's the fire?'

'That's my name,' Ash felt red hot, embarrassed. Kristel sounded embarrassed as well.

'I'm so sorry, I didn't mean any offence, sir,' she said hurriedly.

'Yeah, that's fine, but drop the formal talk. I'm no sir. Just an orphan maid for a rich household sent to buy more wine.' When Ash heard the words come out of his mouth, he reflected on what his life had become.

'A maid?' Kristel laughed in disbelief. Her laugh was even more beautiful than Ash thought.

'It's my life's passion,' Ash lied. 'It isn't as bad as it sounds.'

'Oh,' Kristel became embarrassed again. 'Sorry. Again, I meant no offence, only who would dream of becoming a maid?'

'Me. You haven't answered my question, though.'

'Walking home.'

'Where from?'

'Town.'

'What were you doing?' Kristel folded her arms.

'I'm not sure I should be telling this to a stranger I have only just met.'

'You don't feel like a stranger to me,' Ash reddened as he heard the words blurt out. The mood instantly became uncomfortable.

'Uh, I-I have to go now. Maybe we can meet up again soon?'

'Y-yeah sure.'

'Tomorrow at dawn?'

'My master won't be awake yet.'

'Great,' Kristel ran past Ash and into the snow. Ash slapped himself on the forehead. You don't feel like a stranger to me? What was that? He felt a fool. He trudged back home, giving up on the wine. There was more in the cellar anyway. But Ash couldn't shake the feeling he knew those violet eyes from somewhere…

When Ash arrived home he went down to the cellar, and, sure enough, about 50 bottles of wine were tucked away in the dust. He brought about 5 bottles back upstairs and handed them to Horace. He smiled giddily and poured some more wine for his guests who were looking pretty drunk themselves.

'Idiots,' Ash muttered to himself. He jumped down the stairs two at a time, and couldn't help thinking about those beautiful violet eyes before he fell asleep.