Her name was Ella. She had a normal childhood — a house, a garden, a mom who smelled like lavender. Then her mom got sick and that was winter for a long time.
Her dad remarried a couple years later. The stepmom, Claudette, had been left by her first husband and it made her hard in ways she probably didn't even notice. Her two daughters picked it up from her. None of them were villains. They were just people who got small when they felt threatened, and Ella — with her dead mom everybody loved — felt like a threat.
It started with extra chores. Then more. Then she was sleeping in a room that used to be a closet. Ashes in her hair, somebody called her Cinderella, and that was her name now.
Her dad was right there the whole time. He just didn't say anything.
There was a ball at the palace. Claudette took her daughters. Ella asked if she could go. "You have work to do."
She went out to her mom's old garden and sat on the bench.
The fairy godmother was already there. Just sitting. Old woman, nothing flashy about her.
"You should go to that ball."
"I don't have anything to wear and I smell like a fireplace."
The fairy touched her dress and it changed. Silver and blue, light enough to feel like it wasn't there. Glass shoes, which makes no sense, but there they were. A pumpkin became a carriage. Mice became horses.
"Midnight it all goes back to normal."
"Why midnight?"
"Because that's how it works. Go have fun."
The prince was nice. Actually nice, not just polite. He danced with her and asked her questions and listened when she answered. She laughed for the first time in a while and it surprised her.
The clock started going and she realized she'd completely lost track of time. She ran. Lost a shoe on the stairs because glass shoes and stairs don't mix. Everything turned back — the dress, the carriage, all of it. She walked home in her regular clothes.
The prince went door to door with the shoe. Everybody tried it on. Didn't fit.
He got to Claudette's house. The stepsisters tried. Nope.
"Anyone else?"
"No," said Claudette.
"Yes," said Ella, from the kitchen doorway. Dirty dress, ash in her hair.
She put the shoe on and it fit.
She looked at Claudette. "I'm not angry at you. I just can't stay here anymore."
She left. That's the important part. Not the prince, not the dress, not the magic. She left. After years of sleeping in a closet and being told she wasn't good enough, she walked out the door.
The shoe just gave her a reason to finally do it.
Goodnight, Ella.
Goodnight.