This is a fictional piece written by sophomore Moriah Atlas.
I see dirt on the dishes. I see dust on the mantle. I see a little girl in rags standing before me, asking to go to a party when she hasn’t finished her chores. Maybe next year, if you learn to do as you’re told. Now go fetch your sisters’ dresses. We need to get them ready so they have a chance with the birthday boy,” my stepmother scolded.
I silently nodded, eyes downcast, as I trudged upstairs to grab the glimmering dresses. I had done all of my chores, but Veronica and Victoria had messed everything up again, just so I couldn’t go.
Before I made it upstairs, I heard, “Poor little Ellie thought she had a chance to woo Jack at his own party. Too bad her father married a woman with such gorgeous daughters that are so going to get a date with him,” followed by the cackling of my two stepsisters.
When I got back downstairs, I handed over the dresses and started doing their hair and makeup. As much as I hated them, I never passed up an opportunity to work as a beautician. I curled their hair and painted their faces before they slipped into their dresses. Off they went, with Mother driving in the Mercedes.
I sat on the porch and watched them drive away as the tears rolled down my face. This was supposed to be my night: my one chance to change my life. But like every other good opportunity I get, Snob and Snobbier go and ruin it for me.
I felt a tap on the shoulder and looked up to see an old woman in a dark blue robe. She smiled kindly at me, and in her small voice asked, “Does the pretty lady have food to spare? I can offer you three wishes for this simple price.”
My heart raced as I looked into her eyes. This was my chance, my Cinderella story. I’d spent my whole life comparing our lives, seeing the similarities, and just hoping something like this would happen to me. I sprinted inside as fast as I could and grabbed a loaf of bread before shoving it into her frail hands.
“I wish for a beautiful dress, a ride to the party, and… a chance to talk to Jack!” I practically screamed at the old lady with a wide grin on my face. She stared at me, her mouth slightly open, and looked down at the bread.
“It’s so sad that you still believe in fairies.” And with that she turned around with the food I gave her, and walked away. I stared at her back, shocked and hurt, until I couldn’t see her anymore. Then I went back inside to finish the dishes.