Little Girl all AloneMy name wasn't always Cinderella. I used to be Ella Christine Larkin. I used to be a normal girl who did normal things. I was like any other girl. My father and mother loved me dearly and such things. Then one day my mother died. Everyone said that she passed away from a terrible illness. I know that this was untrue. I saw my mother hold the knife to her heart. I heard her say
" You're such a pretty girl." In her melodic way. I felt the blood pour down and stain the carpet. My mother killed herself because she hated it. She hated everything, her life, her child, her husband. My mother dreamt of becoming a doctor. Her dreams were crushed. She was too pretty not marry and marry high. My mother cooked and cleaned instead, and she showed me how to do the same. If I protested she hit me, hard. I wasn't angry with her, though. My mother, the beautiful Noel, had too much anger to contain. She needed someone to punish. That someone was me. I was sad when she died. She was my mother of course. And part of me liked it when she hit me. It made sense.
She had raised me to be a good, obedient girl. To smile through the pain. I was quiet and kind. I had inherited her looks too. I was pretty blonde and delicate. Pretty as a rose, father would always say. The prettiest girl on the kingdom. I was destined to marry some rich man.
I, Cinderella now, just smiled. I was such a pretty girl.