Home life of sir, "John"
After reaching home, Stepmother demanded me to begin the chores while they took their beauty nap.
"We'll need it for the ball tomorrow night, Cinderella. We must look our best if one of your sisters is to marry the prince!" and with that, they whisked away upstairs to dream of the impossible.
I walked into the kitchen, sliding the large wooden doors closed and grabbed a broom. The handle was rough and splintery, creating friction on my hands. I began to sweep the already clean floor in the already clean kitchen in our already clean house. Stepmother seemed to not notice the fact I clean constantly and that sometimes, the house is too clean, to clean anymore. I placed the broom in the corner and grabbed a laundry basket, placing the clean clothes on the counter and began folding and hanging the on copper hangers. when I'm finished, I go by the fire place and sit down on the wooden rocker by it, rocking back and forth.
"Cinderella, get the bags! Cinderella, rub my feet! Cinderella! Cinderella!" I mock their voices, taking off my messenger hat and running my hand through long light brown hair. I rub my palms against my black slacks, sighing at my attire. Maybe, truthfully, the ball didn't make me as sick as I once thought. Maybe I did like to wear dresses and jewelry. Maybe...
No! Father lost Mother at a ball, and Father met Stepmother at a ball. I hate balls, and dresses, and jewelry and anything about royal dances, I think as I stand to snuff out the small flames that had been resididng in the place. I pick up a spoon that had been laying by the sink and begin to mimick stepmothers story of when she had met my father.
"Well, you see Cinderella, Your father met me at the kings festival, a royal ball he has to celebrate his sons and daughters. Me and your father hitched there. I thought it was the happiest day of mine and my two daughters lives, then we met you." I added enphasis on 'you' like she had. "And realized, it was devistating." I placed the spoon down in the sink, picking up a teacup plate, fanning my face with it pretending to be Ivy.
"I almost died when I seen you face, Cinder-ugly." I place the plate down and put my hands on my hips, acting like Magenta.
"Yeah, Why can't you be prettier? I don't want to puke every morning, you know!" I take my hand off my hips and feel my body sink forward. My confidence lying in pieces over the floor. I would retaliate, but why bother? both were ugly and they both knew it. What could I say? It hurt when they told me the things that were wrong with me, so why bother?
I walked out into the living room, picking up the boxes and bags and walking back into the kitchen, preparing to hang up their new ball gowns, shoes, jewelry and makeup to place in their rooms. Magenta's dress was big and puffy, perfect for her fuller figure. The bows were as big as her head, and it was brihgt orange, her favorite color. I shivered in disgust and folded the dress neatly. I found her clunky orange heels and bright orange feather fan and placed them on her dress.
Next was Ivy's outfit. It was very small at the waiste and large at the hips, in a soft, yet ugly purple. Her unmatching blue shoes and purple and blue fan already on top of the dress. I placed it next to Magenta's. Gosh, they had bad taste. Next was Stepmothers. Hers was small at the waiste and big in the back, in a sharp blue. It had small bows and came down in a small square shape on the chest. It was beautiful. Her pale white heels and white feather fan again, already on her outfit.
I think about my untouched section of my closet, the dresses Stepmother buys me on my birthday every year. I think about a specific one, one that is perfect for the ball.
Should I go? It would be fun, to be a girl for one night. For just one night, then go back to being John, like the man at the market believes me to be. I could ask stepmother. I could wear a mask, so no one knows it's me!
NO! another part of my brain screams. You don't need that ball, you are perfectly fine with being John the rest of your life. I grab my head, a migrane forming in the back of my head. I shake it off, and pick up the boxes that hold three seperate outfits. slipping into Ivy's and Magenta's room, I place Ivy's box on her night stand and Magenta's on her nightstand. They lay in heaps on their beds, snores and grunts coming from open mouths. I walk into Stepmothers room, to see she's not in her bed, but by her window, staring out fixedly.
"Stepmother, I have brought you your ball gown." I say quietly, laying down on her black and blue canopy bed. She turns slighty, and gives a weak smile. "Thank you, Cinderella." She looks back towards the window. I play out our entire converation about me going to the ball, but every time i ask, she says no. I gulp.
"Stepmother?" I ask again. She turns around, sad lines around her red lips. "What is it, Cinderella?" shes slighty frustrated. I ring my hands.
"Well, I was wondering, if maybe, I could, um, go to the ball?" Her eyes widen. She seems taken aback, but smiles a deviace smile.
"Of course you can, Cinderella! You just have to have your chores complete and a dress picked out and you may go." I smile, wide, then catch my excitement and place a plastered half smile on my face.
"Thank you, Stepmother." I walk out of the room, closing the door, and do a small dance.
I was going!