The Untold Cinderella Story
Re-interpreting a classic fairy tale
On the morning my stepsister said her vows and tied herself forever to the Prince, Drusilla and I lost our sight. It was her doing, we knew, she had called the birds to peck out our eyes, just as she had bewitched the Prince into marrying her. She hadn't learned it from her mother, we knew, because her mother had been a very pious and devout woman. From her father we learned early on that she was a demanding, manipulative, yet very beautiful child. Her mother had could deny her nothing, and spoilt her something fierce. She had grown into an exquisitely beautiful, deviously manipulative young lady.
When we had first moved in, she treated us as though we were there to be her new servants. Mother, who had met Cinderella's father at the palace court, had agreed to help him raise Cinderella, in exchange for his help in securing respectable futures for us, her daughters. At first, mother tried so hard to treat her like one of her own, but it did no good. After weeks of trying not to cater to her desires, mother changed tactics. If Cinderella couldn't respond to her kind attempts, she reasoned, then maybe a taste of hardship would straighten her out.
Nothing worked. Still, Cinderella manipulated her father, though much less successfully than before, but with one change. Whenever her father denied her anything she would scream and cry, and destroy whatever room she happened to be in until she would pass out from exhaustion. Afterwards, Mother would stand over her and force Cinderella to clean the messes she made, and do housework so that any items damaged beyond repair could be replaced.
It was a few days after one of these fits that Cinderella came out of her room wearing a brooch that her father had told her he would not buy for her. Papa had instead brought her back a young sapling tree, which she planted over her mother's grave. Mother questioned her where she had gotten the brooch, but Cinderella wouldn't answer. When Mother asked how she had purchased such an expensive bauble, Cinderella just shrugged and ignored mother. That afternoon, one of the merchants from town stopped by, looking for a brooch that had been stolen from him the night before. As he described the brooch to mother, Drusilla and myself, it became clear that Cinderella had his missing brooch.
Mother tried to explain the situation to the merchant, but he would hear of nothing less than being paid twice the price of the brooch, because he had lost an entire day's worth of work looking for the person who had stolen it. Mother paid him the price he asked and sent him on his way. "Why, why must my daughters suffer for what Cinderella has done?" she wept after the merchant was far down the road.
That night, after dinner, mother approached Papa and explained what had happened. Together they decided that Cinderella would have to pay for the brooch she had stolen, and the next morning they let one of the kitchen girls go. While Cinderella was out at her mother's grave, Mother and Papa locked Cinderella's room and sealed the key in an envelope they hid away. When Cinderella came home, Mother told her that she would work in the kitchens so that she could work her debt off. Mother told Drusilla and I that until Cinderella paid off her debt we would treat her exactly as a we would treat any other servant.
Months went by, and every few weeks one of the merchants from town would stop by, looking for something that had been stolen from him. Mother invariably found the stolen items in the kitchen, where Cinderella had taken to sleeping. Every time Mother paid one of the merchants, she would be forced to let another servant go so that she could pay for the cost of the stolen good. After a few months, Mother had fired all the servants, and Cinderella was given their duties as her own, until she had worked off the cost of all the items she had stolen.
Still, nothing seemed to stop Cinderella from stealing more. Even more worrying, when she wasn't doing chores or crying at her mother's grave, she would walk to one of the nearby estates and regale their servants at how mistreated and wronged she was. Very soon, even the most proper of hostesses were no longer inviting us to their soirees. Mother began to worry that we would never be able to secure stable and kind husbands, when the invitation came. The King was having a ball, and all eligible maidens were invited to attend. Even better still, at the ball the Prince would be choosing his bride.
During the months leading up to the ball, Mother scrimped and saved every penny she could so that Drusilla and I could have suitable dressed to meet the Prince in. On the morning of the ball, as the three of us readied ourselves for the ball. A few hours before we were to leave, Cinderella came to us, and demanded to be allowed to go to the ball. When Mother pointed out that she had noting suitable to wear, Cinderella stomped down to the kitchen and threw the largest tantrum I had ever seen. Just before she wore herself out, she kicked a large bowl of lentils, and they scattered into the ashes of the fire.
When Cinderella awoke, Mother told her that she could come to the ball if she cleaned her mess and picked all the lentils from the ashes. As we left her to her task, Mother took me aside and asked me to watch over Cinderella until she had cleared all the lentils from the ashes. Dutifully, I watched from the doorway, and to my horror, Cinderella went to the window and in flew birds of every breed and size. At a word from her, the birds dove to the ashes and began quickly sorting all the lentils back into the bowl. From my place in the shadows I gasped, and Cinderella turned and saw me. With a hiss she began to howl that she would make me regret having spied on her.
I rushed upstairs, and told Mother what I had seen. She hurried Drusilla and myself into the carriage, and we fled to the ball, leaving Cinderella far behind. When the Prince arrived, only one woman caught his attention. She was wearing a silver and gold dress, and after a short time, Mother recognized her. It was Cinderella.
After the ball, when we returned home, Cinderella was sitting by the fire, looking sullen, in her gray work smock. Mother however, was not convinced that all was right. The next night, she had Drusilla stay home and watch over Cinderella, to make sure she stayed home. Again, the mysterious girl arrived in a silver and gold dress, this one even more beautiful than the last.
Shortly after she arrived Drusilla came to us, and told mother of what she had seen at the graveside. Cinderella had gone to her mother's grave just after we had left for the ball, and she had cried and cried. After a few minutes, a pair of doves landed in the tree and dropped down to Cinderella a beautiful gown of silver and gold. She had seen Drusilla as she left for the ball, and had threatened to do her harm for having seen where she got the dress. Drusilla and I were frightened, but Mother told us that if we could secure wealthy, powerful husbands, Cinderella wouldn't be able to harm us.
So we danced and danced, and the next night as well. Though we wanted to dance with the Prince, he would dance with no one save Cinderella. That last night of the ball Cinderella was more beautiful and shining than ever before. None of the men could take their eyes off of her, and they refused to dance with anyone but her. Compared to her, Drusilla and I looked to be old hags. When the ball was almost over, Cinderella took her leave, fleeing the prince. But he had anticipated this, and had spread pitch all over the grand stairs. Cinderella became caught in it and fought to wretch her shoes out of it with all of her strength, but she only managed to free one. The other shoe of pure gold lay in the pitch until the Prince seized it up and fled.
The next day, the kingdom was abuzz. The Prince had declared that he would marry only the woman who could wear the shoe. Mother came to Drusilla and I and brought with her one of Cinderella's old shoes. She told us that if we could fit our feet into the shoes we could marry the Prince and be forever protected from Cinderella. In vain, we struggled to squeeze our feet into her tiny shoes but it was no use. Drusilla's feet were too long, and my toes were too wide. Finally, Mother came up with a brilliant idea. We would cut and bind our feet so that we could fit into the shoe. First mother sliced a piece of Drusilla's heel off, sealed the wound with a hot poker and bandaged it with healing salves. Then she cut off my largest toe and sealed and bound the wounds.
Afterwards, Cinderella's shoes fit us well, though we could not walk without canes. When the prince came he tried the shoe on Drusilla's foot first. It fit perfectly, and the Prince declared she would be his bride. As they rode off, past the grave of Cinderella's mother, two white birds flew along side them and pecked at Drusilla's heel until it bled. The Prince, seeing it, turned around and brought Drusilla back, declaring her not his true bride.
Then it was my turn. Cautiously, I slid my wounded foot into the shoe. It fit, perfectly. I could have cried with joy. But, as we rode away on his horse past the grave, again the birds came and they pecked at my foot, making it bleed. Upon seeing this, again the prince rode back to the house and declared that I was also not his true bride.
As he prepared to leave, Cinderella came in. She had put on her most torn frock, and smudged her face and arms with soot. Still, when she slid on the golden slipper, it fit. The Prince declared that she was his true bride and rode off with her. As they passed the grave again the two white birds came, but they dropped unto her head a crown woven of willow boughs.
The Prince and Cinderella rode off, and Mother, Drusilla and I hoped we were well rid of her. The three of us rejoiced, now we might have normal lives again. We were happy, until the invitations came, asking Drusilla and myself to please be the ones to escort Cinderella up and down the wedding aisle. We begged mother not to make us go, but knew there was no way around it when the palace footmen came to bring us to the ceremony. We sobbed all the way to the church, but wiped our tears away before we left the carriage.
Just outside the church Cinderella awaited us, and she placed Drusilla on her left and me on her right. She grinned at us, the grin of someone who has gotten away with something particularly unsavory, and from the bell tower came the two white birds. One pecked out my right eye, the other pecked out Drusilla's left eye. When they were finished, Cinderella dragged us down the aisle, bleeding and crying. At the end of the ceremony, she positioned Drusilla on her right and me on her left. As we stepped out of the church, again the birds came and plucked away our remaining eyes.
On the steps of the church she left us, bleeding and in pain. Before she stepped into her husband's carriage, she leaned in close to us and whispered "Now you shall never spy on me again." With a swish of skirts she was gone, and with her any chance we had of finding a husband. We have spent all the days since locked away in our house, adjusting to being lame and blind. We thank God that Cinderella has not left the palace since she was wed.