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Ringo-Ichigo's random stories
I'll just be writing short stories up here about whatever I feel like. They could be fanfiction, mysteries, ghost stories, dreams, or anything. Think of this as a little smidgen of what goes on in my head.
Cindy, a.k.a. Cinderella Part 15: Help Me, Mother
I rack my brain. How did she know I was out? I pace the room as I think.

I stop dead in my tracks as I realize how. Phantom. She knew the horse. She knew my saddle. She saw Phantom at the hitching post and put two and two together.

I go through the motions for the rest of my day. I make my dinner, wash the dishes, and change into my nightgown. I collapse into my bed and cry myself to sleep.

I rise the next morning with swollen eyes. I shrug into the dress I wore yesterday. I go through the day, worry heavy on my shoulders.

As the sun sets, I wander out to my mother's grave under the willow by the fountain surrounded by roses. I kneel by it, eyes clouded. I speak aloud quietly over the crickets and nightingales.

"Mother," I begin and pause. "I know it's been a while since I last came to see you. I'm--I'm sorry. But I don't know what else to do." Tears stream down my cheeks. "I have a once in a lifetime chance. The prince wants to see me at the ball tonight. I--I think he loves me, and...I think I love him. Like you loved Father. I don't have a dress though. Step-mother stole it. I can't go in what I have.." I choke on my sobs. "Mother. I need you to ask God for a miracle. Ask him to give me a chance. I only need a chance."

I close my eyes and fold my hands in prayer. I pray silently. When my eyes open, I stop dead.

"Mother?" I ask hoarsely.

"Cindy," the apparition that seems to be my mother replies.

I take in her dark hair, just like mine, her creamy skin, and her starry grey eyes.

"Is it really you? You're not a spirit, are you?"

"It's me, honey." She moves closer, and I see she's tangible. Definitely not a spirit. "I'm a fairy now. Specifically, I've been watching over you all these years."

"Then why did I have to put up with them?" I ask bitterly.

"Honey, fairies have limits. You needed to go through that. To prevent you from suffering my fate. Putting up with them has made you stronger," she explained, her eyes soft, just the way I remembered them. "I also feel I should tell you that you aren't like me." She sits next to me, her hair aflutter from the slight breeze. "Your 'other self' is not a sign of insanity. It's merely you releasing your anger. You can't stuff everything inside. It has to come out eventually. That's all that was."

"Thank you, Mother," I whisper as I embrace her. She's warm just the way I recall from my memories. Her arms are just as comforting as they were as a child.

"Now, let's do something about that ball," she announces as she stands. "Come now; stand up. I haven't seen you this close in years."

I stand and brush off my dress. Mother circles me, tsking and pursing her lips. She leans close and takes in my eyes.

"Still the same dark blue they were when you were born," she comments.

Her gaze seems to shift into me, and a warmth spreads through me. I look down and gasp.

My shoulders are bare. My gown is a few shades lighter than my eyes and strapless. It has a slight sheen, sparkly embroidered flowers of midnight blue across the bodice. Cloth flowers drape across my right arm in a loop. A sash across my hips marks the top of a split in the topskirt. The edge is decorated with cloth roses. The skirt is full; the split reveals an embroidered underskirt matching my bodice and starry tulle petticoats. I feel my hair, which is drawn half-up into a bun with a few wisps around my face. The rest of my dark curls tumble down my back and shoulders. I note a light pressure on my head and rush to the fountain and admire my reflection.

Gone are the puffy, swollen eyes and bruises. On my head is a silver tiara, twinkling with diamonds. I lift my skirts and see the most exquisite shoes I have ever seen.

They are glass slippers. They bend with my foot as I step and support me without breaking. Unlike my step-family's shoes and my own shoes for the past several years, they fit me perfectly. My tiny feet were practically born into these shoes.

"There. Now you look like the princess you are," my mother interrupts with a gentle smile.

"Momma," I lapse into my old endearment for her. Tears well up in my eyes again. "Thank you."

"Oh, come give me a hug quickly before you go," my mother says, her eyes bright like mine. I rush to her waiting arms and hold her close.

She moves away. "I'll crush your lovely dress at this rate. Now get in your carriage."

"Huh?" I look around. I see it then. A white carriage with gold filigree stands there, drawn by Phantom and Flicka. Six footmen and a driver wait for me. "Oh, Momma! It's everything I ever wanted!"

"Just be back before midnight. You may be running the house now, but I'm still your mother. I want you back at a reasonable hour. Have fun. Dance with your prince. Be yourself, and he will love you just as much as I do."

I climb into the carriage with the help of a footman. I gather my skirts inside and away from the closing door.

As I wave goodbye to my mother, I could swear I see my father next to her, his arm around her. Just as I remember he used to hold her.






User Comments: [1] [add]
writingqueen13
Community Member
avatar
commentCommented on: Mon Sep 22, 2008 @ 09:29pm
awwwww . . defnitely one of the more touching moments of this, that's a great twist on the story, having her mother be the fairy "godmother" I also loved your descriptions, I can see the dress perfectly in my mind.


User Comments: [1] [add]
 
 
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