Only an Inch and a Half
Only an Inch and a Half
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Okay, so we weren’t nice to Cindy, but I was only following Blair’s example. I didn’t know how to act towards Cindy and really following Blair was no excuse once I knew that we weren’t really that nice. Still, you have to remember, it was hard, I was freshly turned five and Blair was just seven when our father died.
It was hard especially since we were both such Daddy’s girls. We went from having our father one day and the next day he was gone when a runaway carriage ran over him. Then our mother didn’t even wait a year before remarrying. It was wrong, Daddy was barely dead and Mother was already looking for a new husband. I know now that she was only doing what she had to, women can’t own land and Uncle was only going to pay for the bare minimum for us. He had his own family and he didn’t need the wife and worthless daughters of his dead brother.
I was horribly shy when Mother introduced us to our stepfather, he was much taller than Daddy with a bushy beard that scrapped my cheek and made me cry. Blair had been mad at that when Stepfather had made me cry because of his beard. Cindy obviously adored her father and I was sort of excited to have another sister. Both Blair and Cindy were two years older than me, but I was still very cautious around our new home. It was much bigger and nicer than our old home so I stuck like glue to Blair, doing everything she did. Even when she did things that weren’t very nice to Cindy when Mother and Stepfather weren’t around.
Fine, I’ll come out and say it we were rotten, little terrors. I can still remember that when I was little and after Blair had yanked on Cindy’s hair I would come along and tug, not very hard, I didn’t understand what I was doing yet. Cindy would smile at me and pat my head, I would shout I wasn’t a child but she would only smile more. It made me feel warm inside, but I still shadowed Blair like a puppet without a mind of her own.
Things didn’t really change until Stepfather died. He had been sick after getting caught in the rain waiting for his last shipment. I remember being at the funeral and clinging to Mother’s hand as she wept, two husbands in three years was a hard fate. I was shocked when the other hand to grip mine was not Blair’s but Cindy’s. She was crying silently, I think the last nice thing I did for her was squeeze her hand as she cried for her Daddy.
After that my only models for treating Cindy were my mother and sister. Mother was grief stricken and poor Cindy, she looked just like her father. Mother couldn’t stand the sight of Cindy and forced her to live in the servant’s quarters off the kitchen. It was really more of a closet with a straw bed. Cindy didn’t mind, in fact she didn’t say anything. Stepfather had no family so Mother had some men run the business and pay her Stepfather’s share every moon. We could live well, as long as we got rid of the servants and did things ourselves.
At first it was fine but then Blair began to complain and since I did everything Blair did, I complained too. In no time Cindy was doing it all and Blair loved it. I wanted nothing more than to be like Blair, cutting my hair the same, wearing the same gowns, and saying mean things to Cindy. I would try to be as loud as Blair when she laughed at Cindy’s broken nails while showing off our own long, shiny nails that were polished to gleam in the light. We would tear on Cindy’s clothes, making big holes in them. I am so ashamed of what we did.
Still when the royal ball was decreed we were all thrilled, I was the one to rush to the kitchen and tell Cindy. She smiled at me and I grinned at her, it would be so much fun all of the young women going and dressing up for the Prince. I hoped I would be chosen and then we could all live in the palace, I even decided that if I was picked I would make sure to find noble husbands for Cindy and Blair, husbands that lived on the opposite side of the kingdom from each other.
We received three invitations the next day, I made sure to bring Cindy’s down to her, smiling as I asked her to do my hair. While I loved Blair, Blair would never help me with my hair unless Mother made her. Even when Mother made Blair style my hair, Blair would be harsh, yanking and pulling on my hair so that even though my hair looked lovely, my eyes would be bloodshot from my tears of pain. Cindy’s fingers had just closed over the invitation and mine slipped off when Blair marched into the kitchen. She moved faster than I had seen her move since she was a child and Blair snatched Cindy’s invitation away, ripping it into pieces. I gasped Cindy couldn’t make it into the palace without the invitation. Blair laughed before marching out, I was torn between following like the worm I was and watching Cindy break down.
I was a coward and ran after Blair, she still had half the invitation and was shredding it as she walked up to her room. She slammed the door in my face. I was horrified as I looked at my own whole invitation. It was white paper, so thick and lovely, with golden letters. I looked from my pristine invitation to the pieces on the floor. I quickly gathered all the pieces Blair had shredded on her way to her room. I was outside of the kitchen. How could I give Cindy these pieces, it wasn’t like she could piece them together…but then again Cindy was clever, she might find a way. I opened the door and saw Cindy was still on the floor, clutching her ripped pieces to her chest and I felt horrible. Cindy had done nothing to Blair or me, but how many times had I pinched her, pulled her hair, and made fun of her. I was sick with myself and threw all the pieces I had collected at her before running away, my sobs sounded like laughter to my ears.
I avoided Cindy and Blair until the day of the ball, I had found a pretty, burgundy dress, it brought out the red in my brown hair and emphasized my blue eyes. Blair had on a deep green dress that enhanced her red hair and matched her green eyes. I had asked Mother to do my hair and she had babied me making me forget about Cindy and Blair and how horrible a worm we both were to our poor, orphaned stepsister. I was rushing down to the carriage in time to pass the kitchen as Blair taunted Cindy some more. She said horrible thing to poor Cindy about working as the palace maid when Blair was Queen. I was still a coward and I couldn’t stop Blair, but I called to her about the carriage and getting there on time.
I remember watching Cindy cry through the kitchen windows as our carriage drove away. I felt like dirt as Blair began to explain how she would catch the Prince and I could marry whichever Lord I wanted when she was Queen. I thought it might not be so bad if Blair was Queen until she laughed about making Cindy the bride of the pigpen cleaner. I was embarrassed but even then I still could not find the courage to say anything against Blair. I noticed that through the whole ride she spoke only of when she married the Prince, never if, or if I should marry the Prince. I suddenly knew that while Blair was nice to me it was only because someone like Cindy was around, if it was just the two of us I just knew that Blair would pull on my hair, pinch me, and make fun of me. I shivered and, shamefully, thanked the powers that be that Cindy was around. I am such a rotten coward.
At the ball I was quick to distance myself from my mother and sister. It was amazing, I had never been to the palace before. I was enthralled by the art on the walls and I wished I could wander the halls staring at the pictures of Kings and Queens of the past. I was in such a daze I almost missed it when Blair was asked to dance by the Prince. I would be lying if I didn’t laugh at the expression of boredom on the Prince’s face as Blair talked. Probably about herself but what else could Blair talk about, I did her lessons and chores for her.
The Prince was handsome with hair the color of ripe wheat, eyes the color of the sky, and such a regal face, I could practically see the King he would become. He wore the royal colors in a military style outfit. I was pleased to see he was wearing a sash the same color as my dress, it didn’t look nearly as nice when combined with Blair’s green. I fought not to giggle as he turned away, uninterested, from Blair, her face frozen in shock. I still wonder to this day if he even spoke one word to her.
I stuck to the wall, well aware that there were many other, prettier women at the ball. I had done my best to meld with the wall when a gloved hand entered my field of vision. I jumped back and hit my head before looking to see the Prince. He was smirking in amusement and I blushed as I looked at his hand and them back at him. He chuckled and I blushed more as he asked for the dance. I shook as I took his hand and whispered that I was a horrible dancer and apologized in advance if I stepped on his feet. He laughed again.
It was like magic as the Prince danced with me. I knew all the other girls were watching us and that Blair would be mad as a hatter since the Prince was actually talking to me. I was so used to Blair talking over me that I was a great listener and I knew how to comment in a way to allow the speaker to talk more. The Prince seemed pleased to have a partner who didn’t speak about herself and I mentally thanked Blair for her unintentional training. I was horrified when the Prince asked about my family. I blushed more and my eyes found Blair, she did look mad and the Prince looked surprised. He apologized for my bad luck and I laughed, quickly covering my mouth and looking horrified. The Prince smiled at me before he looked struck.
For a moment I was certain that Blair had come up behind him and struck him over the head with a candlestick but then I realized he wasn’t looking at me but behind me. I turned and I saw her. She was beautiful, ethereal, her skin was creamy white, her hair was gold spun into hair, her eyes were pools of turquoise, and her dress was made out of dreams and moonlight. I felt tears running down my cheeks as I stepped out of the way. The look on the Prince’s face was clear, he was in love with this maiden who was my stepsister. I would not stand in the way and I only felt lower and more unworthy as he approached her like a man in a dream.
It took Blair only a second to reach me after the Prince began to dance with Cindy. Her fingers dug into my arm painfully and I could barely muffle a whimper of pain. Blair was furious but most strangely, she seemed unable to identify Cindy and I realized that Blair couldn’t see Cindy as anything more than our dirty, housekeeping stepsister. I felt ill with myself and quickly rushed away from Blair and the ball. I found our carriage and I sat in it. I would wait for Blair to come and we could go home. I would forever remember dancing with the Prince and making him laugh. The memory would only be pained by the memory of how he walked away from me and towards Cindy, letting me know just how unworthy I was. I cried in the carriage until I fell asleep.
I woke when the bells began to ring and I wondered how any of the royals could sleep with such a racket. I sat up and saw a vision of moonlight and dreams flying down the steps. It was Cindy and she was running away. At first I worried that the Prince might have tried something too forward, but she paused and looked back for a moment. I was breathless at the look of longing and love on her face. Cindy had never looked more beautiful, forget the dress, just her face with that expression was burned upon my brain. She turned and was off, a splash of moonlight remained on the step behind her. It was a single shoe, made of glass. She dove into a carriage of pure white and was pulled away by a team of glowing horses. I had no time to wonder where they had come from when I saw the Prince and ducked back into the carriage.
I screamed when the Prince practically jumped into our carriage and he blinked, obviously expecting Cindy but finding only me. I blushed and looked down as he sighed, obviously heartbroken. He seemed like he was going to crumple and I asked him what he was holding. In his hand was a dainty shoe of glass. I looked at him as he lamented to me that it belonged to the woman he loved. I felt jealous of Cindy, but I couldn’t begrudge her the Prince.
I let the Prince talk until he bemoaned the loss of his love and I made the suggestion, knowing full well that Cindy has some of the daintiest, shapely, and high arched feet I had ever seen, that he take his shoe and find her. The Prince perked up and declared he would search all the noble women using the shoe. I was quick to point out that perhaps she would disguise herself as a servant. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him where to find Cindy, but I could at least give her a fighting chance. He thanked me and was gone.
Blair showed up in a snit and complained the whole way back. I listened and pictured my moment with the Prince and how I had made him laugh. It was a miserable ride back and Cindy was putting down our beds when we arrived. Blair made Cindy help her undress, complaining the whole time about the “mysterious” maiden. I made sure to ask for extra wood and when Cindy came up I told her about how I got to speak to the Prince after he ran after his maiden. I made sure to mention how the Prince planned to look for her using a glass slipper. Cindy smiled as she left and I felt a little better, but still bitter.
It took weeks but soon the word came that the Prince would come and Blair was positive that she could fit the shoe. I had seen Blair’s feet and while they were high arched and elegant, they were far too long to ever fit in Cindy’s slipper. I barely listened as she stated she would need me waiting for her in her room when she went to try it on. I wasn’t sure how she planned to switch the shoes, for who could cobble a shoe of glass?
Still I was pleased to see the Prince, bowing to him as he entered, but he seemed unable to recognize me, but then, I had played a very small part and I was used to being ignored by Blair. It only hurt a little bit. Still Blair begged to put the shoe on herself, too embarrassed to raise her skirts she said. I had seen her chase the boys in the market that pinched her rump, she was never shy to lift up her skirts to run after them. I followed her to her room where she sat down and attempted to get her foot in the glass slipper, but it was clear, her foot was far too long. I pointed this out and Blair smirked as she pulled out a knife. I was horrified to watch as my sister chopped off her own heel and shoved it into the shoe.
It was gruesome to watch as the glass of the shoe filled with blood. Blair stood up triumphant and began to walk. I was shocked that her face was still smiling happily as she walked down the steps. She didn’t flinch, she didn’t falter as she walked to the prince, her skirt long enough that he could see the glass of the shoe, but not the horror of her foot inside. My mother and I waved to Blair as she sat behind the Prince upon his horse. I was quick to go upstairs and toss the part of Blair’s foot into the fire before washing the knife, leaving it in her room because it was too horrible to think of it used to prepare our supper.
It was late afternoon when the Prince and Blair returned. I was shocked to see that Blair was limping behind the Prince’s horse and I knew he had discovered the truth. I rushed Blair upstairs, shocked when she pulled out the glass slipper and shoved it at me. She told me I had to make it fit. I knew it wouldn’t, my feet were short and wide and flat, horrible feet, no matter what I did, they looked like duck feet. I might fit the length of my foot into Cindy’s slipper, but I would never be able to get the width in. I told this to Blair and she nodded. I never expected her to hit me on the temple, knocking me senseless to the floor.
I was unable to do much more than blink at the ceiling as Blair hopped around her room. I was slowing coming to my senses when she kicked me in the head, howling in pain since she used her wounded foot. I was dazed until I felt Blair shove me onto my stomach. She said something about my small or big toe and I repeated what she said. She laughed that she would take the big one since it was so ugly. I had no time to say anything as there was a horrible pain. I sobbed into my arms as something was wrapped around my foot again and again. Blair pulled a stocking over my feet before shoving something hard onto my wounded foot. I gasped before she yanked me up onto my knees digging one of her fingers into my chest so painfully I thought she would gouge it right into my heart.
She ordered me to go to the Prince, he wouldn’t see the blood like he had for her since she had wrapped my foot, if she couldn’t have the Prince at least if I did she could still get something. I didn’t sob as Blair hobbled and shoved me down the steps I looked at the Prince. His eyes were cold and I shook with fear as I lifted my skirt, showing off the blood free slipper. His face lightened and he smiled as he took me in his arms. It was Heaven and I almost forgot about the pain, until he dragged me to his horse and plopped me on before hopping up behind me. I blushed as his arms wrapped around me and for a moment I wished it was true but it wasn’t and my foot hurt horribly.
I whimpered quietly and suddenly a bird began to sing. It sang a poem about slippers and blood and a true bride the Prince looked at me and I sobbed. I confessed what my sister had done and I begged forgiveness, telling him I knew where his true bride was and I would let him put the slipper on her himself. He turned back, but he was kind enough not to make me walk like he had for Blair. We arrived back and I had him stay in the parlor while I ran to the kitchen and grabbed Cindy. Blair shouted and rushed for Cindy, but I shoved her into the parlor before closing the doors and blocking it from Blair with my body. It was the first brave thing I’d ever done in my life but I was still weak and Blair beat me until I dropped to the floor in tears. She shoved open the door in time to see Cindy and the Prince riding off. I laughed until Blair snarled and chased me. I ran up to my room, locking the door and curling up on my bed.
I miss Cindy, but she is in her true home now. I feel bad and I wrote her a letter telling her that she should come home and take all of her father’s belongings with her to the palace. She came and my Mother was more than willing to allow Cindy to do so. I stayed hidden in the kitchen, I was trying to bake, but it wasn’t working very well. Blair had to be tricked out of the house. Mother had gotten one of the men running Stepfather’s business to take Blair to the next town over to shop. I was crying over another ruined apple pie when Cindy appeared in the door to the kitchen. I fell over and cried more as I ended up in the apple bucket, crushing several excellent apples. Cindy said she forgave me and thanked me for inviting her back to get her father’s things. I ended up crying more.
I wanted to ask her to forgive me for being such a rotten sister. I was too much of a coward to ask and in the end I didn’t need to because she told me she didn’t blame me. I ended up crying more and hugging her. She even thanked me for telling her Prince how to find her. I hugged her until I couldn’t cry anymore. I followed her out of the house, limping all the way. Blair took the loss of her heal better than I had taken the loss of my toe. She walked on the balls of her feet anyway, but I was flat-footed and had always had a bit of a duck foot. Cindy waved to me and I knew I would never see her again. She had taken most of the nice furniture. Mother was actually pleased that she could buy her own furniture plus she told me that Cindy had given her Stepfather’s business as a Queen Cindy didn’t need it.
Blair was furious to come home to find almost all of the lovely furniture gone, she was so made she threw my fresh apple pie out of the window. I watched her go stomping off as best she could on the balls of her feet. I would always regret treating Cindy badly, I would always feel sorrow over my night with the Prince, but I know I will get over Blair. For a year after Cindy and the Prince married there was another ball. Mother forced us to go, of course Blair was miserable, but I was actually happy, for my birthday I had gotten a lovely cane the same brown as my hair, it hid my limp.
Cindy didn’t talk to us but I saw her smile at me. We will most likely never talk again, but she did help me. At the ball I had been allowed to wander the halls and I had met a young Lord from the next kingdom. He was visiting with his Prince, who was looking for a foreign born wife. I was quick to warn him about Blair and he rushed off to warn his Prince. Apparently the warning was unnecessary since Blair had gotten thrown out for trying to spread rumors about Cindy being our former cleaning woman.
I was most surprised when after the ball the young Lord asked if I would like to visit his kingdom. We were married that fall and I have never gone home. Still every ten years, on the anniversary of Cindy and her Prince finding each other, I get a lovely cane. You never really know how much you miss your ugly toes until they’re gone; I guess the same can be said about ugly stepsisters too.
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Author's Note:
I apologize for the length of this piece it picked me up and ran away with me. It was completed in one sitting over 4 hours (technically two sittings since I stopped for dinner).
I H A T E hate feet. I personally believe that I have Ugly Stepsister feet. So this one was a HARD one to write. I mean, I am disgusted by feet and the thought of being inspired by them was....blegh! I thought I might have to drop out of this one folks. Anyway I was obviously inspired by fairy tales. I'm in a Masters program and one of the books I was reading this week was a collection of redone fairy tales. Well sure enough I started thinking about the Grimm version of Cinderella, you know the grisley one where the step sisters cut off their feet. Well I don't like the idea of the stepsisters both being brats so I came up with this. I personally wouldn't have let anyone cut off my heel or toes so I made this version where one sister cripples the other. It is true about losing your toes, you lose balance and I concentrated on how I walk and I know I would fall over without my big toes.
I just wanted to share that it is rather ironic that I wrote a Cinderella story because I greatly disliked Cinderella. It was my sister's favorite Disney movie when she was at the stage of watch, rewind, watch, rewind, etc. My sister would demand to watch it over and over and over again. I got so I couldn't stand the movie and it has been nearly twenty years since I have watched it. While I was writing this I thought, maybe I could stand to watch it now...but I won't be able to with my sister...you don't even get the break that rewinding a VHS gave with DVD now.
I almost forgot, I measured my own foot, if you cut off my big toe, you take off an inch and a half of my foot (that's at the widest point) that was how I got the title.
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Okay, so we weren’t nice to Cindy, but I was only following Blair’s example. I didn’t know how to act towards Cindy and really following Blair was no excuse once I knew that we weren’t really that nice. Still, you have to remember, it was hard, I was freshly turned five and Blair was just seven when our father died.
It was hard especially since we were both such Daddy’s girls. We went from having our father one day and the next day he was gone when a runaway carriage ran over him. Then our mother didn’t even wait a year before remarrying. It was wrong, Daddy was barely dead and Mother was already looking for a new husband. I know now that she was only doing what she had to, women can’t own land and Uncle was only going to pay for the bare minimum for us. He had his own family and he didn’t need the wife and worthless daughters of his dead brother.
I was horribly shy when Mother introduced us to our stepfather, he was much taller than Daddy with a bushy beard that scrapped my cheek and made me cry. Blair had been mad at that when Stepfather had made me cry because of his beard. Cindy obviously adored her father and I was sort of excited to have another sister. Both Blair and Cindy were two years older than me, but I was still very cautious around our new home. It was much bigger and nicer than our old home so I stuck like glue to Blair, doing everything she did. Even when she did things that weren’t very nice to Cindy when Mother and Stepfather weren’t around.
Fine, I’ll come out and say it we were rotten, little terrors. I can still remember that when I was little and after Blair had yanked on Cindy’s hair I would come along and tug, not very hard, I didn’t understand what I was doing yet. Cindy would smile at me and pat my head, I would shout I wasn’t a child but she would only smile more. It made me feel warm inside, but I still shadowed Blair like a puppet without a mind of her own.
Things didn’t really change until Stepfather died. He had been sick after getting caught in the rain waiting for his last shipment. I remember being at the funeral and clinging to Mother’s hand as she wept, two husbands in three years was a hard fate. I was shocked when the other hand to grip mine was not Blair’s but Cindy’s. She was crying silently, I think the last nice thing I did for her was squeeze her hand as she cried for her Daddy.
After that my only models for treating Cindy were my mother and sister. Mother was grief stricken and poor Cindy, she looked just like her father. Mother couldn’t stand the sight of Cindy and forced her to live in the servant’s quarters off the kitchen. It was really more of a closet with a straw bed. Cindy didn’t mind, in fact she didn’t say anything. Stepfather had no family so Mother had some men run the business and pay her Stepfather’s share every moon. We could live well, as long as we got rid of the servants and did things ourselves.
At first it was fine but then Blair began to complain and since I did everything Blair did, I complained too. In no time Cindy was doing it all and Blair loved it. I wanted nothing more than to be like Blair, cutting my hair the same, wearing the same gowns, and saying mean things to Cindy. I would try to be as loud as Blair when she laughed at Cindy’s broken nails while showing off our own long, shiny nails that were polished to gleam in the light. We would tear on Cindy’s clothes, making big holes in them. I am so ashamed of what we did.
Still when the royal ball was decreed we were all thrilled, I was the one to rush to the kitchen and tell Cindy. She smiled at me and I grinned at her, it would be so much fun all of the young women going and dressing up for the Prince. I hoped I would be chosen and then we could all live in the palace, I even decided that if I was picked I would make sure to find noble husbands for Cindy and Blair, husbands that lived on the opposite side of the kingdom from each other.
We received three invitations the next day, I made sure to bring Cindy’s down to her, smiling as I asked her to do my hair. While I loved Blair, Blair would never help me with my hair unless Mother made her. Even when Mother made Blair style my hair, Blair would be harsh, yanking and pulling on my hair so that even though my hair looked lovely, my eyes would be bloodshot from my tears of pain. Cindy’s fingers had just closed over the invitation and mine slipped off when Blair marched into the kitchen. She moved faster than I had seen her move since she was a child and Blair snatched Cindy’s invitation away, ripping it into pieces. I gasped Cindy couldn’t make it into the palace without the invitation. Blair laughed before marching out, I was torn between following like the worm I was and watching Cindy break down.
I was a coward and ran after Blair, she still had half the invitation and was shredding it as she walked up to her room. She slammed the door in my face. I was horrified as I looked at my own whole invitation. It was white paper, so thick and lovely, with golden letters. I looked from my pristine invitation to the pieces on the floor. I quickly gathered all the pieces Blair had shredded on her way to her room. I was outside of the kitchen. How could I give Cindy these pieces, it wasn’t like she could piece them together…but then again Cindy was clever, she might find a way. I opened the door and saw Cindy was still on the floor, clutching her ripped pieces to her chest and I felt horrible. Cindy had done nothing to Blair or me, but how many times had I pinched her, pulled her hair, and made fun of her. I was sick with myself and threw all the pieces I had collected at her before running away, my sobs sounded like laughter to my ears.
I avoided Cindy and Blair until the day of the ball, I had found a pretty, burgundy dress, it brought out the red in my brown hair and emphasized my blue eyes. Blair had on a deep green dress that enhanced her red hair and matched her green eyes. I had asked Mother to do my hair and she had babied me making me forget about Cindy and Blair and how horrible a worm we both were to our poor, orphaned stepsister. I was rushing down to the carriage in time to pass the kitchen as Blair taunted Cindy some more. She said horrible thing to poor Cindy about working as the palace maid when Blair was Queen. I was still a coward and I couldn’t stop Blair, but I called to her about the carriage and getting there on time.
I remember watching Cindy cry through the kitchen windows as our carriage drove away. I felt like dirt as Blair began to explain how she would catch the Prince and I could marry whichever Lord I wanted when she was Queen. I thought it might not be so bad if Blair was Queen until she laughed about making Cindy the bride of the pigpen cleaner. I was embarrassed but even then I still could not find the courage to say anything against Blair. I noticed that through the whole ride she spoke only of when she married the Prince, never if, or if I should marry the Prince. I suddenly knew that while Blair was nice to me it was only because someone like Cindy was around, if it was just the two of us I just knew that Blair would pull on my hair, pinch me, and make fun of me. I shivered and, shamefully, thanked the powers that be that Cindy was around. I am such a rotten coward.
At the ball I was quick to distance myself from my mother and sister. It was amazing, I had never been to the palace before. I was enthralled by the art on the walls and I wished I could wander the halls staring at the pictures of Kings and Queens of the past. I was in such a daze I almost missed it when Blair was asked to dance by the Prince. I would be lying if I didn’t laugh at the expression of boredom on the Prince’s face as Blair talked. Probably about herself but what else could Blair talk about, I did her lessons and chores for her.
The Prince was handsome with hair the color of ripe wheat, eyes the color of the sky, and such a regal face, I could practically see the King he would become. He wore the royal colors in a military style outfit. I was pleased to see he was wearing a sash the same color as my dress, it didn’t look nearly as nice when combined with Blair’s green. I fought not to giggle as he turned away, uninterested, from Blair, her face frozen in shock. I still wonder to this day if he even spoke one word to her.
I stuck to the wall, well aware that there were many other, prettier women at the ball. I had done my best to meld with the wall when a gloved hand entered my field of vision. I jumped back and hit my head before looking to see the Prince. He was smirking in amusement and I blushed as I looked at his hand and them back at him. He chuckled and I blushed more as he asked for the dance. I shook as I took his hand and whispered that I was a horrible dancer and apologized in advance if I stepped on his feet. He laughed again.
It was like magic as the Prince danced with me. I knew all the other girls were watching us and that Blair would be mad as a hatter since the Prince was actually talking to me. I was so used to Blair talking over me that I was a great listener and I knew how to comment in a way to allow the speaker to talk more. The Prince seemed pleased to have a partner who didn’t speak about herself and I mentally thanked Blair for her unintentional training. I was horrified when the Prince asked about my family. I blushed more and my eyes found Blair, she did look mad and the Prince looked surprised. He apologized for my bad luck and I laughed, quickly covering my mouth and looking horrified. The Prince smiled at me before he looked struck.
For a moment I was certain that Blair had come up behind him and struck him over the head with a candlestick but then I realized he wasn’t looking at me but behind me. I turned and I saw her. She was beautiful, ethereal, her skin was creamy white, her hair was gold spun into hair, her eyes were pools of turquoise, and her dress was made out of dreams and moonlight. I felt tears running down my cheeks as I stepped out of the way. The look on the Prince’s face was clear, he was in love with this maiden who was my stepsister. I would not stand in the way and I only felt lower and more unworthy as he approached her like a man in a dream.
It took Blair only a second to reach me after the Prince began to dance with Cindy. Her fingers dug into my arm painfully and I could barely muffle a whimper of pain. Blair was furious but most strangely, she seemed unable to identify Cindy and I realized that Blair couldn’t see Cindy as anything more than our dirty, housekeeping stepsister. I felt ill with myself and quickly rushed away from Blair and the ball. I found our carriage and I sat in it. I would wait for Blair to come and we could go home. I would forever remember dancing with the Prince and making him laugh. The memory would only be pained by the memory of how he walked away from me and towards Cindy, letting me know just how unworthy I was. I cried in the carriage until I fell asleep.
I woke when the bells began to ring and I wondered how any of the royals could sleep with such a racket. I sat up and saw a vision of moonlight and dreams flying down the steps. It was Cindy and she was running away. At first I worried that the Prince might have tried something too forward, but she paused and looked back for a moment. I was breathless at the look of longing and love on her face. Cindy had never looked more beautiful, forget the dress, just her face with that expression was burned upon my brain. She turned and was off, a splash of moonlight remained on the step behind her. It was a single shoe, made of glass. She dove into a carriage of pure white and was pulled away by a team of glowing horses. I had no time to wonder where they had come from when I saw the Prince and ducked back into the carriage.
I screamed when the Prince practically jumped into our carriage and he blinked, obviously expecting Cindy but finding only me. I blushed and looked down as he sighed, obviously heartbroken. He seemed like he was going to crumple and I asked him what he was holding. In his hand was a dainty shoe of glass. I looked at him as he lamented to me that it belonged to the woman he loved. I felt jealous of Cindy, but I couldn’t begrudge her the Prince.
I let the Prince talk until he bemoaned the loss of his love and I made the suggestion, knowing full well that Cindy has some of the daintiest, shapely, and high arched feet I had ever seen, that he take his shoe and find her. The Prince perked up and declared he would search all the noble women using the shoe. I was quick to point out that perhaps she would disguise herself as a servant. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him where to find Cindy, but I could at least give her a fighting chance. He thanked me and was gone.
Blair showed up in a snit and complained the whole way back. I listened and pictured my moment with the Prince and how I had made him laugh. It was a miserable ride back and Cindy was putting down our beds when we arrived. Blair made Cindy help her undress, complaining the whole time about the “mysterious” maiden. I made sure to ask for extra wood and when Cindy came up I told her about how I got to speak to the Prince after he ran after his maiden. I made sure to mention how the Prince planned to look for her using a glass slipper. Cindy smiled as she left and I felt a little better, but still bitter.
It took weeks but soon the word came that the Prince would come and Blair was positive that she could fit the shoe. I had seen Blair’s feet and while they were high arched and elegant, they were far too long to ever fit in Cindy’s slipper. I barely listened as she stated she would need me waiting for her in her room when she went to try it on. I wasn’t sure how she planned to switch the shoes, for who could cobble a shoe of glass?
Still I was pleased to see the Prince, bowing to him as he entered, but he seemed unable to recognize me, but then, I had played a very small part and I was used to being ignored by Blair. It only hurt a little bit. Still Blair begged to put the shoe on herself, too embarrassed to raise her skirts she said. I had seen her chase the boys in the market that pinched her rump, she was never shy to lift up her skirts to run after them. I followed her to her room where she sat down and attempted to get her foot in the glass slipper, but it was clear, her foot was far too long. I pointed this out and Blair smirked as she pulled out a knife. I was horrified to watch as my sister chopped off her own heel and shoved it into the shoe.
It was gruesome to watch as the glass of the shoe filled with blood. Blair stood up triumphant and began to walk. I was shocked that her face was still smiling happily as she walked down the steps. She didn’t flinch, she didn’t falter as she walked to the prince, her skirt long enough that he could see the glass of the shoe, but not the horror of her foot inside. My mother and I waved to Blair as she sat behind the Prince upon his horse. I was quick to go upstairs and toss the part of Blair’s foot into the fire before washing the knife, leaving it in her room because it was too horrible to think of it used to prepare our supper.
It was late afternoon when the Prince and Blair returned. I was shocked to see that Blair was limping behind the Prince’s horse and I knew he had discovered the truth. I rushed Blair upstairs, shocked when she pulled out the glass slipper and shoved it at me. She told me I had to make it fit. I knew it wouldn’t, my feet were short and wide and flat, horrible feet, no matter what I did, they looked like duck feet. I might fit the length of my foot into Cindy’s slipper, but I would never be able to get the width in. I told this to Blair and she nodded. I never expected her to hit me on the temple, knocking me senseless to the floor.
I was unable to do much more than blink at the ceiling as Blair hopped around her room. I was slowing coming to my senses when she kicked me in the head, howling in pain since she used her wounded foot. I was dazed until I felt Blair shove me onto my stomach. She said something about my small or big toe and I repeated what she said. She laughed that she would take the big one since it was so ugly. I had no time to say anything as there was a horrible pain. I sobbed into my arms as something was wrapped around my foot again and again. Blair pulled a stocking over my feet before shoving something hard onto my wounded foot. I gasped before she yanked me up onto my knees digging one of her fingers into my chest so painfully I thought she would gouge it right into my heart.
She ordered me to go to the Prince, he wouldn’t see the blood like he had for her since she had wrapped my foot, if she couldn’t have the Prince at least if I did she could still get something. I didn’t sob as Blair hobbled and shoved me down the steps I looked at the Prince. His eyes were cold and I shook with fear as I lifted my skirt, showing off the blood free slipper. His face lightened and he smiled as he took me in his arms. It was Heaven and I almost forgot about the pain, until he dragged me to his horse and plopped me on before hopping up behind me. I blushed as his arms wrapped around me and for a moment I wished it was true but it wasn’t and my foot hurt horribly.
I whimpered quietly and suddenly a bird began to sing. It sang a poem about slippers and blood and a true bride the Prince looked at me and I sobbed. I confessed what my sister had done and I begged forgiveness, telling him I knew where his true bride was and I would let him put the slipper on her himself. He turned back, but he was kind enough not to make me walk like he had for Blair. We arrived back and I had him stay in the parlor while I ran to the kitchen and grabbed Cindy. Blair shouted and rushed for Cindy, but I shoved her into the parlor before closing the doors and blocking it from Blair with my body. It was the first brave thing I’d ever done in my life but I was still weak and Blair beat me until I dropped to the floor in tears. She shoved open the door in time to see Cindy and the Prince riding off. I laughed until Blair snarled and chased me. I ran up to my room, locking the door and curling up on my bed.
I miss Cindy, but she is in her true home now. I feel bad and I wrote her a letter telling her that she should come home and take all of her father’s belongings with her to the palace. She came and my Mother was more than willing to allow Cindy to do so. I stayed hidden in the kitchen, I was trying to bake, but it wasn’t working very well. Blair had to be tricked out of the house. Mother had gotten one of the men running Stepfather’s business to take Blair to the next town over to shop. I was crying over another ruined apple pie when Cindy appeared in the door to the kitchen. I fell over and cried more as I ended up in the apple bucket, crushing several excellent apples. Cindy said she forgave me and thanked me for inviting her back to get her father’s things. I ended up crying more.
I wanted to ask her to forgive me for being such a rotten sister. I was too much of a coward to ask and in the end I didn’t need to because she told me she didn’t blame me. I ended up crying more and hugging her. She even thanked me for telling her Prince how to find her. I hugged her until I couldn’t cry anymore. I followed her out of the house, limping all the way. Blair took the loss of her heal better than I had taken the loss of my toe. She walked on the balls of her feet anyway, but I was flat-footed and had always had a bit of a duck foot. Cindy waved to me and I knew I would never see her again. She had taken most of the nice furniture. Mother was actually pleased that she could buy her own furniture plus she told me that Cindy had given her Stepfather’s business as a Queen Cindy didn’t need it.
Blair was furious to come home to find almost all of the lovely furniture gone, she was so made she threw my fresh apple pie out of the window. I watched her go stomping off as best she could on the balls of her feet. I would always regret treating Cindy badly, I would always feel sorrow over my night with the Prince, but I know I will get over Blair. For a year after Cindy and the Prince married there was another ball. Mother forced us to go, of course Blair was miserable, but I was actually happy, for my birthday I had gotten a lovely cane the same brown as my hair, it hid my limp.
Cindy didn’t talk to us but I saw her smile at me. We will most likely never talk again, but she did help me. At the ball I had been allowed to wander the halls and I had met a young Lord from the next kingdom. He was visiting with his Prince, who was looking for a foreign born wife. I was quick to warn him about Blair and he rushed off to warn his Prince. Apparently the warning was unnecessary since Blair had gotten thrown out for trying to spread rumors about Cindy being our former cleaning woman.
I was most surprised when after the ball the young Lord asked if I would like to visit his kingdom. We were married that fall and I have never gone home. Still every ten years, on the anniversary of Cindy and her Prince finding each other, I get a lovely cane. You never really know how much you miss your ugly toes until they’re gone; I guess the same can be said about ugly stepsisters too.
~*~*~
Author's Note:
I apologize for the length of this piece it picked me up and ran away with me. It was completed in one sitting over 4 hours (technically two sittings since I stopped for dinner).
I H A T E hate feet. I personally believe that I have Ugly Stepsister feet. So this one was a HARD one to write. I mean, I am disgusted by feet and the thought of being inspired by them was....blegh! I thought I might have to drop out of this one folks. Anyway I was obviously inspired by fairy tales. I'm in a Masters program and one of the books I was reading this week was a collection of redone fairy tales. Well sure enough I started thinking about the Grimm version of Cinderella, you know the grisley one where the step sisters cut off their feet. Well I don't like the idea of the stepsisters both being brats so I came up with this. I personally wouldn't have let anyone cut off my heel or toes so I made this version where one sister cripples the other. It is true about losing your toes, you lose balance and I concentrated on how I walk and I know I would fall over without my big toes.
I just wanted to share that it is rather ironic that I wrote a Cinderella story because I greatly disliked Cinderella. It was my sister's favorite Disney movie when she was at the stage of watch, rewind, watch, rewind, etc. My sister would demand to watch it over and over and over again. I got so I couldn't stand the movie and it has been nearly twenty years since I have watched it. While I was writing this I thought, maybe I could stand to watch it now...but I won't be able to with my sister...you don't even get the break that rewinding a VHS gave with DVD now.
I almost forgot, I measured my own foot, if you cut off my big toe, you take off an inch and a half of my foot (that's at the widest point) that was how I got the title.