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3 ~ Cinderella

So seeing your mothers name was Ella your stepsisters and stepmother use her name (and your middle name) to call you Cinderella to hurt you most because you really cared about your mother!

Enjoy~

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You smiled and hummed your favourite song as you headed outside with a basket to collect the eggs.

'Good morning!' You smiled while passing the geese.

'Good morning, Miss Y/N!'

'Good morning, Tom!'

You made a right and down. You opened the little door and saw all the chickens. You smiled.

'Hello. Don’t mind if I…'

You reached in and grabbed an egg.

'What a lovely, Chantecler. Well done. Thanks.'

You smiled as you headed down to the kitchen where you maid was cooking.

'Morning.' You smiled.

'Morning.' The maid smiled back at you.

You put your basket down on the side and grabbed a pot. You gently put the eggs in there, making sure they didnt break.

'Thank you, Miss Y/N.'

'You’re welcome.'

She turned around. Right as she did you ran your finger past the edge of the pan she was making food in and tasted it.

'Y/N!'

You laughed and ran off..

Mornings did not agree with Ella’s stepsisters. And they lacked accomplishment in such domestic arts as keeping house. In fact, they lacked accomplishment in any art.

While you were eating, Drisella was playing the piano and singing loudly. It was the most awful sound you had ever heard.

Anastasia was drawing her mother. They both seemed to be lacking the talent for her skills.

Lady Tremaine saw you being clearly bothered by the awful singing,  a judgemental look on your face as you stared at Drisella.

When you turned away your stepmother threw her plate on the floor. You turned around and quickly picked it up for her before taking it out of the room.

Your comfort were the letters that father would send from his travels. The weeks away lengthened to months, but everyday would bring his thoughts from some distant part. Until late one afternoon…

You opened the front door only to find Farmer John. He had a look of great sorrow in his eyes. He took his hat off and placed it on his

'Farmer John?'

You felt that something wasnt right. You could sense it.

'Miss.. It’s your father, Miss. He took ill on the road. He’s passed on, miss.'

You entire world came crashing down. An overwhelming amount of grief crashing into you. Tears whelmed up in your eyes. He was all you had left..

'He’s gone. Till the end he spoke only of you, miss, and your mother. I was to give you this.'

He handed you a branch. The branch you asked for. He took it for you. He took your odd request.. he thought of you every second.

'Well, what about my lace?' You heard anastasia ask behind you.

'My parasol.' Drisella followed.

'Can’t you see, none of that matters. We’re ruined! How will we live?'

You heard them storm off. Tears started rolling down your cheeks. They only cared about your fathers money and belongings.

'Thank you. It must have been very difficult for you.' You told Farmer John.

You turned around and gently closed the door. You laid your head against the door as more tears started streaming down your face.

You slowly turned around and sunk down to the ground against the door where you broke down crying.

How indeed to live? Economies had to be taken. Your stepmother dismissed the household.

Your stepmother and stepsisters ever misused you. And by and by they considered you less a sister than a servant. They even stopped using your first name and went on to your second.. Ella. As if your name didn't matter at all.

And so you were left to do all the work. This was a good thing, for it distracted you from your grief. At least that was what your stepmother said. And she and her two daughters were more than happy to provide you with lots and lots of distraction.

In their defense, they did share with you the very food they ate. Or rather the scraps from their table. You had little in the way of friends. Well, her friends very little.. But those friends you had, you treated with an open heart and an open hand.

Sometimes, by the end of the day, the drafty attic was too cold to spend the night in, so you lay by the dying embers of the hearth to keep warm.

You were woken by the servers bell. The bell you now had to listen to. You quickly sat up, realising you overslept.

'I thought breakfast was ready.' Your stepmother asked.

'It is, Madam. I’m only mending the fire.' You spoke.

You got up off the floor and watched the other girls sit down and the breakfast tabel.

'Oh, in future can we not be called until the work is done?'

'As you wish.'

You headed towards the smaller tables behind the girls to grab some bread.

'Ella, what’s that on your face?'

You look at them. Unsure of what they meant.

'Madam?' You asked while putting down the break.

'It’s ash from the fireplace.' Anastasia grinned.

'Do clean yourself up.' Your stepmother sneered.

You turned around and wiped your face with a cloth. Hoping it would come off.

'You’ll get cinders in our tea.' Anastasia hissed.

You grabbed the tea platter and lifted it up to bring to the table.

'I’ve got a new name for her: Cinder Wench!' Drisella laughed.

You werent amused by this but just put down the tea.

'She looks so dirty. Oh, Dirty Ella!' Anastasia joined in.

They all laughed. You tried to kedp on working and not listen to them. To you Ella was your mothers name and hearing them mock it that way hurt you.

'Cinderella! That’s what we’ll call you!'

'Oh, girls. You’re too clever.'

You put down all the plates and even sat one down for yourself. You were quite hungry.

'Who’s this for? Is there someone we’ve forgotten?' Your stepmother asked.

You stared at her in disbelieve.

'It’s my plate.'

'Oh, it seems too much to expect to prepare breakfast, serve it and still sit with us. Wouldn’t you prefer to eat when all the work is done, Ella? Or should I say, Cinderella? Hm?'

You grabbed your plate and tried to stay strong while you left the room. The three others were just laughing at you.

You walked all the way down to the kitchen, your breath and hands shaking. Have courage and be kind.. have courage and be kind.. that was all that was repeating in your head.

You tried to place the plate onto a table there but it fell of the edge and broke. That caused you to cry.

You stared at your reflection in the kettle. You didn't see a bright, happy girl.. you saw a servant. They changed you into their servant..

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