Sinful Cinderella

We make it about one mile before the spell is broken. I just eased my sore body up onto the seat and peeked out the window. We’re in the middle of a forest, still part of the king’s land. Then the carriage groans and shudders. A few pumpkin seeds fall onto my skirt. When I look up, the ceiling has become soft and pulpy, flecked with pale seeds. With a wet, squishy sound, the walls begin to shrink around me.

I kick the door open. I do not want to die being crushed inside a pumpkin.

I throw myself out and hit the ground tumbling, the earth pounding my new bruises. Groaning, I push myself up to sitting and notice my dress is now the simple gray I always wear. A short distance ahead, the carriage is shrinking fast, losing its details. My rats scuttle toward me, no longer horses. And I catch the barest glimpse of the mouse before he darts into the forest, probably still thinking a cat is after us. Poor little mouse. Thank you. May you live a long and prosperous mouse-life.

Slowly, stiffly, I manage to stand up. The forest is quiet, other than noisy night bugs. I listen but hear no distant shouts or thunder of galloping hooves. I don’t think Edgar is chasing me now.

Bending down, I hold out my hands. “Come here, boys.” My rats crawl into my palms and I tuck them against my chest. I have a long, weary, barefooted walk ahead of me. But at least I’ll have company.

I’ve hobbled only a few steps when the moon glints off something near the pumpkin. Oh no, NO! My slipper! Why didn’t it disappear? Did Godnutter want to leave me a souvenir of my disastrous night? That sounds like her sick sense of humor. But... she didn’t know how this would end. She only sensed it and warned me not to go.

I didn’t listen.

Sobs rumble up in my throat but I choke them down. I don’t want to be heard, just in case. My whole body is shaking. I feel like I just crawled out of a hole in the earth, lucky to be alive. I desperately want someone to hold me, comfort me, tell me it was all a bad dream. But I have no one.

What a horrible man. Who knew our prince could be such a monster? A few must know, probably some unfortunate girls like me. His daughter will likely grow up as cruel and vicious as he is. No, I am lucky to escape that family. Even my stupid steps are not as bad as they are.

The gravel is sharp beneath my feet. The black treetops slide over me, leaves whispering together. I move to the side of the road and try walking on weeds. But they’re too long and tangly.

He’ll forget about me. I’m only one girl and his kind is easily distracted. He might search for a while because he’s mad I got away, but he’ll get bored. I’m so glad I didn’t tell him my name.

But as I stumble through that depressing wood, the rats and slipper growing heavy in my arms, I almost want to laugh.

I never thought I’d meet someone even badder than I am.