Characters from: Cinderella
Author: xxpiratexx
Disclaimer: I don't own it.
Author's Note: Cinderella's Mother (first person Point of View) Hope it isn't too confusing! Read and review, please!
My daughter is gone. I know and realize that now. She's gone, truly gone. Not 'dead' gone. For, really, when you're 'dead' gone, you're not truly gone at all. Well, some people are. The people that are unloved and do not love are gone. For you can only stay if you have someone you can hang on to. I hung on to my daughter.
You wouldn't call me, or us, for that matter, guardian angels. We're more…silent observers. We cannot reach out to our loved ones when we feel lost, nor can we comfort them in their bleak moments of sorrow. We just stay and watch and listen, wanting to reach out and comfort, but not being able to. You could call it torture, but it isn't, not really. Torture is being gone.
I sit here, watching her sob into the rag she uses to clean, scooting a bit closer to the dead fireplace, seeking warmth from something that is not there. A bit of soot touches her chestnut hair. The motherly instinct in me wants to gently place my finger on the blackened strand and rub it off, but I stifle it as I have for many years. 'Cinderella', they call her. Is it really so bad to sleep by a dead fireplace? Is it really so bad for her, to enjoy it when the cinders are the closest thing to warm she remembers?
She puts the rag on the floor, then wipes her dirty face with her dirtier hand, and there are strokes of black on her cheeks.
She is gone. She has stopped crying for me in her sleep. She had stopped crying for her father long ago. I don't dwell on her father, that…that…coward. She is cold now. The animals know it and they try to help, bless them.
What have I left to hold on to? Not her father, the coward. Not her anymore. No.
I can help before I go. I can use my last resort. I could have used it long ago, but I didn't like another eye on my daughter while I was watching over her—well, watching her, but my eyes wouldn't watch her for much longer.
Besides, she needed a guardian, not an observer. I couldn't bring myself to do it while she slept, alone, so I did it the next day. The vile stepsisters were chortling over some ball or prince, and the tears had begun to form in her eyes.
I would leave while she was crying. Then, in my heart, I could feel that she was crying for me. I touched her forehead briefly, and she would feel it, for once, for it was the only time she was allowed to feel it—when I was leaving. She didn't even notice. But she felt it, and that was enough. I prepared to leave, one hand on my heard. I floated upward slowly, my blue dress billowing out from under me. My grasp on the mortal world was weakening, and soon I would face the torture of being gone.
I can help before I go. I thought the words before I said them. I heard my voice utter the three summoning words, ones that would change my daughter's life forever, even though I wouldn't be able to see the changes from the black other world. I frowned. I had whispered them.
I got ready to say them again. It was, in a way, also my goodbye to this world, and I felt it should be loud and clear.
I began to slip away. And the last thing I heard was my voice, full of longing and sorrow, but also of hope, say the words. "Bibbiti, Bobbity, Boo!"
A/N: I know those aren't summoning words, but they just sounded great there! Thanks for reading; please review?
