A Retelling of Cinderella

“What are you doing here?”

I raised my head, and with tears welling up in my eyes I could see a girl heading towards me.

I dashed my tears away with the sleeve and uttered, “Nothing.”

Not even noticing the air of caution I had around me, she squatted down by my side.

From a short distance, I could tell that she was actually a bit taller than me. Light brown hair, fair skin with a rosy complexion, and round, clear eyes rolling with curiosity, but from which you can also tell the sincerity once your eyes meet with hers.

She gazed at the gravestone, skimming over the words carved on it with her finger, and whispered: “Whose grave is it?”

“Mommy’s.”

“I am sorry.” She turned to me, caressing my face－her palm was soft and silky. “But if your mom knew you’re always grieving for her, she would not be happy as well.”

I sniffed and nodded.

Maybe because she was glad to see me cheering up or merely because she was amused by my clumsy behavior, she smiled brightly.

Sunlight scattered through leaves, warming me up and drying my tears away.

It was the last time she smiled at me like that.

Once upon a time.

＃

I am Cinderella, as she calls me so. I can’t even remember my name that my parents gave me.

My mom died when I was five. Father seemed unable to get over the trauma and thus drank himself out of reality. We moved from town to town almost twice a month, and I suspected that it was because he was afraid that duns would find him while he was drunk, land a great punch on his face, and force him to clear his debt.

Since I could only stay in one school for a short time, it was hard for me to make real friends－I was always alone. While other kids played together with joyful laughter, I seemed to be the only girl that sat on the swings silently, not knowing how to join in with them.

“The only girl left in this world…” I could barely fling the thought into the air however high I swung.

The only pastime of mine was to visit Mommy’s grave. No matter how far we moved from her grave, I was always willing to walk for hours to see her. I would bring her a bunch of daisies, which were her favorite flower when she was still alive, and sit beside the gravestone with my back leaning on it, letting the wind dry my tears rolling down on my face.

I was so lonely.

I missed Mommy so much, and I just couldn’t help visiting her often, even though I must pay for it and bear the thrash coming from a drunken Father, who hated to see his daughter lingering in the graveyard. But he didn’t understand. Only by staying by her side could I feel the fear and loneliness within me subside. Mommy was the only one in the world who would really care about me and love me so much. But now she was dead. I could never see someone smile tenderly at me again.

And then I met the girl, whose smile shined, just like the sun melting the winter snow.

Everything changed from that moment.

＃

A few days after we met in the graveyard, Father, with a bottle in hand, stumbled into the house as usual, but this time his eyes glittered with joy.

“I, er, I’ve found you a new mom!”

I jumped off from the chair and stared at him in disbelief.

“Don’t look at me like that!” He snapped. “Go clean the house!”

He took one step near me, blew some odor of alcohol on my face, and threatened, “If I shall see any dirt tomorrow…”

I murmured, “You shall not, Father.”

But he still gave me a slight slap.

The very next day I woke up quite early. I dusted and mopped every corner in the house and now the windows and furniture seemed gleaming. Exhausted, I sat on the chair, watching Father dashed in and out nonchalantly.

“You lazy bones!” He yelled and gave me a disgusted look. “Draw yourself out of the dust before your mom comes!”

She was not my mom. “The one lying in the tomb is.” I spoke to myself.

I was actually dozing off when they came back. I shook my head, rubbed my eyes and opened the door.

“From now on she’s your stepmother!” Father claimed with a bright voice.

She looked at me with her chin lifted, and chuckled. I sensed the hostility and disdain in her voice. She was pretty though, pretty but icy.

Behind her stood a girl, who was a bit taller than me…

It was the girl, the girl I met in the graveyard.

“She’s your sister.” Father said with delight.

＃

From then on I was forced to move into the attic, since we didn’t have enough room.

Sometimes my sister would quietly climb up and spend an afternoon with me. We would play together, or just lie side by side and talk, wondering how many stars we could see if there was a skylight at the roof.

It was the happiest time in my life.

However, all good things come to an end. One day her mom found her playing with me. She dragged her out of the attic and gave her a great slap on her face. “How many times have I told you not to be with this dirty little bitch?”

My sister stroked her face with tears in her eyes, looking at her mom in astonishment.

And then she turned to me, “I hate you!” she cried.

I was alone again.

＃

Years had passed.

She became more beautiful than ever. However I never saw her smile again.

Every night, I was seized by the same nightmare, in which I could see her slapped by her mom and then hear she cry “I hate you!” again and again. Sweating, I always woke up with soundless screaming.

Actually she’d already reached the age that she would be interested in boys, but she showed no care for them. Even though many boys were crazy for her, she never seemed pleased by this.

There was nothing left that could make her happy, right? Or I just didn’t know?

＃

I visited Mommy less often, since I was forced to do lots of chores and by the time I finished it, it was already dark outside.

But when I finally had time to see her, I always found a bunch of daisies already on the gravestone.

＃

The day before my sister’s sixteenth birthday, she received a leaflet from the palace. The king was going to hold a party in the palace. All girls in the country who were aged over thirteen were invited, and the prince would pick one as his wife out of the girls present at the party.

I was fourteen then, so I was also qualified to attend the party. At first I had no interest in it. But then I saw my sister’s face, glittering, and filled with excitement.

“You want to go to the party, don’t you?” I asked.

And she nodded eagerly.

The very next day she received a dress. It was white, white as a swan. She kissed her mom with her eyes sparkling.

Her mom turned to me and sneered: “Too bad I didn’t have enough money to buy one for you, Cinderella. Maybe you can go in those rags?” She smirked.

I saw my sister walking into her room lightly with the dress in hand. Then I went back to my attic with thoughts.

I wondered how she looked in that dress.

＃

I went to the graveyard. There were no daisies on the tomb that day.

I sat down by the side of the gravestone, and murmured: “I really want to go to the party, but how can I get a dress?”

“My poor child…”

The voice was just as gentle as Mommy’s. “Mommy?” I cried.

“I’m sorry that I can’t even give you a hug…” She paused a little－speaking for her seemed uneasy. “But dear, go back home, though it’s not as warm as it used to be. I’ll try to help you.”

“Come back here tomorrow.” With these last words the voice vanished.

＃

When I came back to the graveyard the next day, I found that there was already a dress awaited me, which was as white as swan.

“Isn’t this…?” I unfolded it in surprise, but there was no one answering me.

As I returned home with the dress under my clothes, they had already slept.

I sneaked into my sister’s room, trying to scan over in the dark. And as I guessed, I could not find the dress, which was with me now.

I was about to step out of the room, but my sister turned over in the quilt. I dared not to move, until I was sure that she was asleep again.

Gazing upon her angelic sleeping face, which reminded me the day we met－I made up my mind.

＃

I went back to Mommy’s grave.

“Mommy, can I ask for one last thing?”

No answer.

“Please…”

“I don’t have much power left…” She finally replied, seemingly weak. “But I shall grant your one last wish.”

I smiled, but at the same time I felt quite sad since I might not hear her voice again－and told her what I wanted.

“It’s silly of you to do so.” She sounded disapproving.

“But it’s what I really want.” I begged with a soft voice.

“Are you sure?” She sighed. “I’ll grant it.”

＃

When I came back home, I saw my sister trying on another dress. It was light yellow this time, which suited her hair color well.

Two days before the party.

＃

The day before the party, I brought a bunch of daisies to Mommy, and found a pair of glass shoes. I thanked her with tears in my eyes, but no longer would her voice appear.

I hid the dress and the glass shoes in the attic, waiting for tomorrow quietly in the dark.

＃

“We are leaving, Cinderella.” My stepmother laughed at me. “Look at her, if she dared to go to the party in that shabby clothes, she might be the highlight of tonight.”

Indifferent to those words, my sister simply said goodbye to me, and then they left.

She was so stunning and elegant today. I couldn’t help seeing her off.

It took me a few moments to gather myself. I went up to the attic, dressed myself up, and then headed to the party.

＃

To my disappointment, I couldn’t see why my sister was so addicted to the prince －the one in front of me was just a brute with the most extravagant attire on him. He stared at me with a lascivious look, and asked if I shall dance with him.

I would be happy to deny him, but if I did, all my efforts would be gone.

So I faked a smile and pretended to be shy, murmuring that I was glad to have him dance with me. He beamed.

I hated the odor emitting from what he called perfume and I just couldn’t stand his hand slyly wandering around my waist. What’s worse, my feet really hurt.

Fortunately, the stroke of midnight rang. I said goodbye to the prince immediately, and rushed away from the palace as fast as I could.

With one glass shoe left on the steps.

＃

I went back home before they came back, and sneaked into my sister’s room again.

It wasn’t until I took off the other shoe from my left foot that I truly relieved from anxiety. I lay on my bed, hoping things would go well as I wish, and then fell asleep.

＃

Three days after the party, I saw my sister standing in the yard. She looked down.

I stepped up and asked, “Are you alright?”

The silence remained for a moment or two, and she spoke miserably. “I didn’t even dance with the prince that night.”

I consoled her, with a slight guilt in mind. “The lucky girl might not be the queen as well. I hear that they still can’t find her.”

She gave me a bitter smile, “Maybe.”

The doorbell rang. It was a minister with some soldiers. “Good afternoon. We are looking for the girl who lost this glass shoe in the party.

My sister and I looked at each other. I could tell the despair in her eyes. I nodded at her, and uttered softly: “Just give it a try.”

She sighed, and put her foot in the shoe.

To her, and everyone’s amazement, her foot suited perfectly.

I was the only one there who knew the truth.

The minister sighed with relief, as he finally finished the task. The soldiers yelled excitedly, and dashed to her room. In no time did they found the other glass shoe.

My sister trembled in disbelief, and then smiled brightly with joy.

The smile I missed all the time.

＃

“Mommy, please give me a pair of shoes that are half a size smaller than mine.”

(First draft finished on Dec 22th, 2011

Revised on May 16, 2017)