After I got in to my clothing, it was time to make the infamous transformation from Ella to Cinderella. With nothing but the mice to keep me company, for not even Emilia, who was treated like a maid for being nice to me, was awake, I began my daily duties.

The first thing I do after I get out of my bedroom is trip down the stairs. Silly Ella has forgotten her candle again. So I stumble back up to get it. How will the rest of my day go? I can only imagine.

Emilia wakes up two hours after I do, and when I come back from tending to the animals she is in the kitchen.

"Hi Emilia! What's on the menu today?" I ask her hungrily as I lounge in the maid's dining room, which is really just a table with two chairs in the kitchen.. I can clean and cater and wash and organize, but I couldn't cook to save my life. That's what Emilia's for. Well, other than to being my friend of course.

"Hey Ella. It's porridge as always." Emilia sighs out. Poor girl. She gets fed the same as I do, and no one deserves that.

"Emilia," I begin, "you are the cook of this household, are you not?"

"Yes Ella, you know I am." She knows exactly where I'm going with this.

"If you are the cook, why can't you make yourself what you give to your sisters and mother? I mean, it's absolutely nonsense what you put yourself through, eating the same food as me. Go on, make yourself French toast with maple syrup, or eggs and bacon, or whatever your great big heart desires."

"Ella, you know I can't do that." She says hesitantly. "And besides, you wouldn't want to be the only one eating porridge with no cream or sugar. I can't let you be the only one who hasn't legally eaten a strawberry with their breakfast since you were seven."

"And why not?" I yell, standing up quickly form my wooden chair, toppling it over. "Emilia, you are no match for Anastasia, Drizella, or even your own Mother! You know why? Because you, my dear, are better than them! You are kinder, more wonderful, more tasteful, more…"

"Ella, you're food is done."

"Oh. Alright then. But you should take my advice. You really should."

"Ella, how in the worl would I be able to fallow your advice!" If I did runoff and do great things, how in the world would you be able to eat? In addition to my argument, I don't even know where to go. There's no place for me. Simple as that."

"Oh, but I know where you can go," I begin, then stop abruptly, seeing if I caught her attention. I obviously have, as she has stopped her cooking and turned around. "There's a ball that the prince is hosting on Monday. I heard Anastasia talking about it while I did her hair yesterday morning. She said that I could go to as long as I finished my chores early. But I don't want to go."

"Really?" Emilia turns back to her cooking so the toast won't burn. "Why not? You're definitely pretty enough to get a dance with him."

"Thank you. I just don't want to get sucked up into the prince, the way your sisters have. Drizella gets nervous if you just mention the word Prince. Anyway, I was thinking that maybe you should go to the ball. I could do your chores for you and make you a dress the night before. It would be wonderful!"

"Ella."

"Yes?"

"Get your apron."

Oh, now it's time to feed the other pigs.

As I started to deliver the wonderful breakfasts that the real Tremaines get to eat, I began to think about the prince. He certainly did have a certain attractive air about him when I saw him at the yearly winter festival, and he always did seem to look at me whenever I passed. But that was just a coincidence. No, he's definitely not attracted to-

"Cinderella watch where you're going!" Anastasia yelled at me.

I had somehow wound up on the floor, coated in sticky syrup from her French toast. She did that on purpose. Opened the door just as I was outside it, causing her food to spill over me.

"Now look what you've done! You just make your way back to the kitchen and get me some more food, you insolent liitle brat." She spat out the words as if I were vermin. "The nerve." She cackled as she closed the door and went back into her room.

I ran down the stairs crying.

"Ella, are you okay? What happened? What are you covered in?" Emilia's concerned questions almost made it seem like it would be okay, that someone really did love me. Almost.

I handed her the empty breakfast tray and she suddenly was filled with understanding. She wasn't sympathetic anymore. Now she was livid.

"Ella Kate Tremaine, you always ask me why I put up with my family, and you're about to get the same teaching."

I sniffled and looked up at her. "Oh yeah? What do you expect me to do? You could stand up to them. You may not act like the rest of your family, but you are a real Tremaine! I'm just an intruder with no way out. You actually have a chance. What have I got? That's right, nothing." I burst into tears again.

"Ella," Emilia gets close to me and looks me in the eye. "Ella, you need to go to the ball."