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"Cinderella! Get up!"

I hear the shout and try to shut it out. It must be a dream. I am not asleep on the kitchen floor with washrag in hand. I am asleep in my bed.

"Get up, you ungrateful wench!" my stepmother screams, a unnatural squeak in her voice. She grabs my arm and wrests me from the cold stone floor. "How dare you sleep while working!" A slap strikes my cheek and all sleep leaves me.

"I'm sorry. It's just--" my explanation is halted by another slap.

"Look at the floor! It's worse that it was before you tried to clean it!"

"If you could just give me some more time--"

"More time?" her shrill voice interrupts. "Next thing I know you'll want all the time to sleep and be lazy, you little ingrate."

"That's not true!" I protest weakly. "I would work twice as hard if you gave me some time to sleep."

"Not another word. Finish this floor and then," my stepmother paused and smiled haughtily. "I have more work for you." She turns on her diamond-studded heel and flounces out of the kitchen.

After her footsteps have faded, I sink to my knees. I push one of my brown curls behind my ear and sigh. "Back to work," I whisper. I dip the rag in the bucket of suds and begin to scrub the floor.

"It was such a wonderful dream, too," I say to myself. "If only she hadn't come along just then, I could have enjoyed it a little longer. I was working so hard to clean the manor. Then I heard horses on the drive. I went out and could you believe it the prince was there," I told the pots and pans. "He was finally returning. I saw he was weary and so I offered him some water. He thanked me. I fetched him the water and gave it to him. He looked at me and said, 'Who are you and who is your father, maid?' I told him my name was Cindy and that my father was dead. Then he asked me to come with him and meet his parents. Well, you can't refuse the prince so I agreed."

I wet the rag again and continue scrubbing. "He held me like a princess and we rode to the palace. He introduced me to the king and queen. Then he said he wished to marry me. His parents agreed, saying I was the loveliest woman they had ever seen. I looked at my dress then and, oh, I have never seen such a dress. It was blue silk with genuine pearls lining the top of the bodice and diamonds across the skirt. It was dark as the night sky and the diamonds twinkled like a thousand stars in the heavens. Then the prince bent down and was about to kiss me when she came."

I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the bottom of a pot and laugh dryly. I have soot smeared across my one cheek and the other is soapy from the floor. My dark curls are pulled up in a haphazard bun and some have wormed their way free. These free curls straggle across my face, dirty and limp. Yes, the prince would definitely make a dirty orphaned maid his bride.

I stand and peer at my image. My pale skin is smooth and clear but smudged with dirt. I use a filthy sleeve to wipe away the soap and smear dirt into my other cheek. My clear dark blue eyes pierce me with loneliness and sadness. My nose is small and perfect. I was pretty underneath the soot. At least that's what my slightly distorted mirrors told me.

But what prince could see past the grime to the princess within me?