Cinderella Reimagined

by Anna Jailene Aguilar et al.

  Cinderella’s stepmother had refused to marry her father’s solicitor after Cinderella’s father’s funeral and year of mourning had passed. She knew he was the only one who would take her case because since she looked like a servant, he would only believe her if she explained about her father and what her stepmother had done to her. Cinderella knew the solicitor would love to take her case to get back at her stepmother. Until then, Cinderella’s jailor would keep the house and Cinderella as a slave working in it.

  She finished washing the floor pleased at how they shined. Then, her homely stepsisters walked across her clean floor with muddy shoes. When one tripped over the still wet floor, both Giselle and Monique began to hit Cinderella, blaming her for their clumsiness. She pushed them away and they kept walking, calling her lewd names and laughing at her. She had to rewash some spots on the floor but she didn’t care, Cinderella had a secret and it was going to free her from the tyranny of her stepmother and stepsisters.

  A lonely beggar wandering past the front gate of the mansion had seen Cinderella crying last night. She had wanted to attend the ball and with the beggar’s surprising magic powers, he had granted Cinderella’s wish. She was intelligent enough, however, to realize the beggar wouldn’t be granting this wish without thinking about his own well-being. She could see he was a crafty man and wondered what he was up to, why he would grant her such a request. He’d created a beautiful frothy blue gown for Cinderella to wear with the most stunning diamond high heels she’d ever seen; Cinderella had ‘a thing’ for gorgeous shoes. They gleamed and shone so brilliantly, Cinderella asked if she could keep them after the night ended. The beggar had agreed to Cinderella’s second request with a mischievous smile.

  Cinderella had a purpose keeping her diamond heels. She had planned to sneak out of the house in one of her mother’s old dresses and sell her priceless heels to hire the solicitor who so despised her stepmother. She wanted the mansion and what was left of her father’s fortune, especially her sizable dowry, which her stepmother couldn’t steal no matter how hard she tried. Moreover, Cinderella’s stepmother didn’t know about the money her father had illegally acquired on the black market. It was hidden away in offshore accounts only Cinderella knew about. She couldn’t access them until the day after the ball which was her twenty-fifth birthday.

  She had attended the ball and knew the prince liked her as soon as he looked at her. There was a glint in his blue eyes as he gave Cinderella a charming lopsided grin. She hadn’t meant to let him go so far with her — but then they did.

  “I really like you,” he told Cinderella, “You’re much more fun those other girls who want to be my wife but won’t put out. Plus, you’re intelligent and make me laugh. Most of the other girls are too scared they will appear unladylike.”

  She’d giggled, surprised at the Prince’s comment and Cinderella found herself liking him despite being focused on her mission to sell her shoes and retain her birthright. She gave the prince a playful punch. He was entertaining but she knew she’d never see him again.

  She gazed up at him fluttering her lashes, “Look, this is a one-time thing and that’s all you’re going to get from me because I have a curfew. I’m not allowed out often.”

  “I’m the prince, I can overrule your curfew or any other rules your father has.”

  Cinderella sighed, “Sorry, you can’t. I mean it, I have to leave now,” she said escaping into the night before her gown disintegrated and she was left in rags. She swore repeatedly when she saw she’d lost one of her diamond heels. She was upset and realized she must have left it behind while running from the prince, but she needed both heels to afford the solicitor. Frustrated she went home and cried herself to sleep. Surely, the plans she dreamed of since she was twelve would somehow come to pass.

  The following day, the prince announced every young woman in the kingdom needed to try on the diamond heel left behind by the girl he desired above all others. Cinderella rolled her eyes because she thought the prince was daft. Many women in the kingdom could have the same size feet as her. She thought about her missing shoe and the beggar, how she was sure he’d been up to something when he granted her wish. She thought it was possible the shoes might only fit her feet due to the beggar’s special magic. The beggar knew Cinderella valued the shoes above all and she knew it was the reason he let her keep them. It was strange she would lose track of such beautiful and expensive shoes because she loved them so much and had never owned high heeled shoes before – much less ones made of diamonds. She knew the crafty beggar had to be responsible for her lost shoe. He probably used his magic or had some keen sense that the prince would fall for Cinderella so that she wouldn’t be able to return to her plan, to sell the shoes and hire her father’s old solicitor. The beggar had seen the shrewd woman beneath her simple wish to attend the ball.

  Truthfully, Cinderella had only been interested in going to the ball because as she was cleaning outside, she recognized the beggar was a powerful wizard in hiding, who had the power to grant wishes. She hadn’t sought to meet the prince but just to be provided with a beautiful dress and shoes she could sell to escape. She was upset about ending up with only one diamond heel and no dress, but she didn’t want to seem greedy asking to keep the dress along with the shoes. She had crossed her fingers and hoped the ball gown would remain along with her heels.

  The following week the prince and his servants arrived at the mansion. Her stepmother tried to lock her in a closet but Cinderella had hated her stepmother for many years and had had enough of her tyranny. She punched the old bat, knocking her out and stuffing her in the closet, which she locked. Cinderella hurried down the stairs in one of her mother’s old day dresses. She interrupted Giselle and Monique trying with all their might to jam the shoe on their chubby feet. Cinderella feared her beloved shoe would shatter from the force of her stepsisters prying and jamming.

  “Careful, that’s a diamond shoe,” Cinderella cried taking out the shoe’s twin from behind her back.

  She slipped both shoes on, doing up the straps, and parading around in them for both the prince and her stepsisters to see. The prince was confused a moment because Cinderella appeared out of place in her outdated dress but he had her brought closer to him by a servant. The prince gazed into her face and then moved her long hair out of the way to find the tattoo of a bluebird on her upper back. He declared she was the girl from the ball and she would be his new mistress.

  “I’m delighted to see you again,” he said to her with a flirtatious raise of his brows. “You’d be the perfect bride but I’m guessing you have little wealth or dowry to go along with your shoes. On the other hand, you’re much less maintenance than any other girl who nearly fit your shoe.”

  Cinderella huffed and being as polite as she could, asked to speak to the prince in private. She explained her entire situation to him concerning her stepmother. She told him how priceless her shoes were, that the mansion was legally hers and that she had a large dowry along with whatever money her stepmother hadn’t used from her father’s wealth; it turned out to be a lot of money, more than her stepmother had ever realized. Cinderella smirked, it was so like her father to hide his money where he knew his second wife could not get a hold of it.

  Consulting his advisors, the prince decided Cinderella would make a fantastic bride who would add considerable wealth to his kingdom. He sent for the bishop and they were married immediately. A large public wedding followed months later and the stepmother was forced to retire to the countryside. The prince was generous and gave Cinderella her father’s mansion (with the deed in her own name) as a wedding present. He married off her sisters, Giselle and Monique, to two of his dullest cousins but kept most of their large dowries for himself.

  Thankfully, Cinderella was wise enough to keep hidden a great deal of her father’s money in offshore accounts. She decided not to tell the prince about the accounts in case of emergency. She was no idiot and decided that every woman, even a princess, needed ‘get away�
� money if the worst happened.

  The prince was pleased with Cinderella and was happy to have found a princess who was fun and learned quickly. She was intelligent and helped him increase the value of his kingdom by increasing taxation on the peasants and middle class. Unfortunately, a revolution broke out in the country around the same time, disturbing the couple’s happiness. The king and queen were beheaded along with many other nobles so they knew they had to leave the country before the angry peasants and middle class came for them.

  Cinderella had grown fond of the prince and was certain she loved him. They had twin girls together and it was lucky Cinderella had kept secret the money in her father’s offshore accounts. She used the money to escape to the United States and start a new life with her family. The prince wasn’t upset Cinderella had hidden the money. He praised her for being shrewd and prepared for an emergency situation he hadn’t foreseen.

  Although life was rougher in the United States, the money Cinderella had kept hidden permitted the prince to become the owner of several factories and make his way in business, mass-producing expensive shoes of all kinds for women and men. Cinderella helped the prince’s product designers, creating beautiful shoes women adored and paid hundreds and thousands of dollars to own a pair. Their twin daughters eventually married well and a century later the Prince’s ancestors would bring out Cinderella’s diamond heels, showing them off as precious heirlooms.

  In the end, Cinderella hadn’t had to sell her beloved diamond heels. She was allowed to keep them because before she married the prince in public she asked him to: “Promise me we will never have to sell my diamond heels, because if we do I’ll disappear and you’ll never see me again.”

  The prince knew Cinderella was a savvy woman who could easily slip away and by then he loved her more than he wanted to admit; he granted her request knowing she would never leave him even if she was able to. There was a look in her pale blue eyes that she only made when she looked at him. He learned that day and later taught his grandsons in America, “Nothing comes between a woman and her shoes.” And that’s how Cinderella and her prince lived happily ever after.

  Borrowed Bounces

  by Bianca Greyvenstein

  Outside on a stranger’s trampoline, Cindy wondered how she let herself be dragged to yet another party that she did not want to attend. Izelle and Stacia were to blame of course. They’re always to blame for things like this happening lately. Cindy sat with her legs dangling off the edge of the trampoline, with a drink in her hand. It was a Cream Soda. Cindy doesn’t like to drink much (alcohol makes her a bit anxious) so she stuck to the sweet stuff.

  She watched the bubbles float to the top of the little plastic cup and took a sip. Caffeine and sugar don’t help with the anxiety either, but they didn’t have much variety at this particular get-together. Cream Soda wins over Coca Cola any day. Besides, maybe if she had a bit of sugar she would feel more inclined to go back to the crowd and talk to a few people. Or dance. Or whatever it is that you’re meant to do at these sorts of things.

  She had lost track of Izelle and Stacia quite early on and then she decided to quite literally turn her back on the party and its commotion. Those two girls were the definition of social butterflies. What a stroke of luck that her father decided to marry a woman with twin daughters that were Cindy’s exact age. It’s not that they were bad step-sisters. On the contrary, they were excellent friends to Cindy and they got along very well. The twins are intelligent and they make for first-rate conversation. They just enjoy being social a lot more than Cindy does.

  The conflict usually arises when the trio must decide how to spend their weekends together. They made a compromise (after their parents suggested it) and they take turns choosing their activities for their days off from school. When it’s Cindy’s weekend, she usually picks a movie marathon or a trip to the bookstore. Sometimes when she’s feeling especially adventurous, she votes for a day of baking cupcakes and making pizzas. Obviously, this party had to coincide with a weekend when one of the twins got to choose the activities.

  Usually when confronted with a social gathering, Cindy makes her childhood friend Faye tag along. At least then she has someone to sit quietly with and avoid the crowds and the incessant music. Not to mention the inevitable mess that occurs when teenagers get together and play beer pong. However, Faye coincidentally had to go for dinner with her parents on the eve of the party. It was her brother’s birthday and her parents always take them out to a fancy restaurant to celebrate special occasions. When Cindy heard about this she went into full panic mode.

  “Faye, I can’t possibly go to a… a party without you!”

  “Darling, of course you can. We’ve been to a few together and we survived. They’re not all that bad.”

  “Yes, because we went together. I’ve never gone without you before. I can’t do it. I refuse.”

  “Cindy that’s nonsense and you know it. You should go. The twins won’t forgive you and your parents will make a fuss. None of us want a mess like that happening again. Listen, I’ll help you pick out an outfit.”

  “Yeah that’s all well and good but —”

  “No buts. I’ll even spend the afternoon with you guys and have my parents pick me up from your place before the dinner.”

  Cindy sighed and folded her arms with a frown before giving in.

  “You better pick out one amazing outfit for me then.”

  Suddenly, Cindy snapped out of her reverie and she was back alone in the near darkness. The door on the veranda creaked open and the noise from inside the house trebled in volume. Cindy winced slightly and her heart started to beat a little bit faster when she heard the door close again. It was the footsteps heading towards her tiny haven that worried her. It couldn’t be the twins. They were surely still busy flirting with their victims for the evening. She was also quite certain that she wasn’t friends with anyone else at this party. So, the mystery person couldn’t possibly want to start a conversation with her. Could they? She downed the last bit of her soda and turned to identify her enigma.

  “Hi there, mind if I join you?”

  “Um, no, I mean, sure you can join me if you want.”

  It was Henry. She certainly didn’t expect to see him here. They have a class or two together and he’s never really seemed like the partying-type. Even if he is quite popular. Cindy just couldn’t picture him playing drinking games or dancing with the others. They had engaged in a few debates in class before and she thought he would enjoy watching the news or studying instead of this. He’s top of the class after all. Henry took her empty cup and threw it into the dustbin nearby before getting up next to her on the edge of the trampoline.

  “Don’t like parties much?” He started to swing his legs back and forth and the vibrations travelled through the springs.

  Cindy smiled nervously at the question.

  “How can you tell?”, she laughed and pushed her hair behind her ears. “It looks like you’re not the biggest fan of them either.”

  She turned to look at him properly for the first time since he arrived. In his eyes, she saw the faintest flicker of panic before it was gone again.

  “Well, I don’t come to them willingly. I was coerced, you see. A few of my friends really wanted to come tonight and they may have brought me without informing me of our destination.” He nervously tugged at his sleeve and sighed.

  Cindy didn’t really know how to respond to that so she said the first thing that popped into her head.

  “Wanna jump?” She turned around onto her knees and got onto her feet. Then, she pulled Henry up with her. He started laughing and joined her in jumping. They laughed and bounced until they were gasping for air. The smiling pair flopped down backwards onto the trampoline and looked for the moon. Cindy had a love for astronomy and started to point out a few constellations. They continued to talk about everything from Greek mythology to their favourite fast food places.

  It was nearly midnight when Izelle and Stacia fin
ally found her. “Dad’s here Cindy. Come on. Time to go.”

  “Coming.” She jumped down off the trampoline and turned to go, but a hand on her shoulder made her turn back.

  “You really are something else.” It was almost a whisper from Henry. “Don’t forget your weird shoes.”

  “Oh thanks.” Cindy took her shoes from his hands and giggled while putting them back onto her feet. “I would have left without them.”

  “You should definitely wear them tomorrow. That way if I see you in the halls, I’ll know this wasn’t a dream. You should have lunch at our table too. Your sisters are welcome to join. What do you say?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Cindy looked down towards her flat pumps with the unicorns and pizza slice graphics. She made a mental note to thank Faye for her fashion advice in the morning.

  Drizella, Cinderella’s Stepsister: My Story

  by Edith Follansbee

  I’m so infuriated by my mother. Why is she non-supportive of my feelings? I have told her so many times, I don’t want to go to the prince’s birthday party. I have made a fuss about the dress and the shoes and everything else that you MUST do to get ready. I hate the dress and the shoes. You can hardy call them shoes; I call them ankle breakers.

  The constant criticism of my figure when I go to the dress makers. She is always making negative comments about my curves. What really bugs me is the clicking sound she makes with her mouth very time she has to let out a seam. I can’t help it if God gave me a slow metabolism. I tell her beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I have not found my beholder. Even the dressmaker is non-supportive of my feelings.