Based on the 1995 motion picture version of Frances Hodgson Burnett's 'A Little Princess'.

"Eye of newt, and toe of frog,

Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,

Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,

Lizard's leg, and howlet's wing,--

For a charm of powerful trouble,

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble."
Sara Crewe, just eighteen, pranced around her tiny room in the attic. An imaginary cauldron sat in the center of the room which she danced around. Taking a pinch of dust from her windowsill she threw it into the boiling cauldron.
She picked up a large ladle and began the strenuous task of stirring the thick and repulsive concoction; wrinkling her nose in distaste as the smell drifted past her nose. At that moment, Becky crept quietly into the room.
"What are you about, Miss?"
Startled, Sara gasped and straightened. She felt silly playing her old childhood games, but it was the only thing that brought her joy and allowed to be free of the depressing reality. "Just playing."
Becky smiled widely, "Up to your old games again, I've no doubt." She settled herself on Sara's bed and nodded, "Go on, Miss. Tell me what story you were living this time."
Sara returned the smile; it had always been this way. Becky never scoffed at her fantasies no matter how ridiculous they were. Dropping her voice into a low whisper, Sara cackled wickedly and said, "I'm one of the three ugly witches in Macbeth."
"Macbeth, Miss?"
"A story, written long ago." Sara hobbled forward and pulled her shawl over her head with just her face showing. "I'm about to conjure a ghost!"
Becky shuddered and pretended to be afraid, but her eyes danced with merriment.
Turning to her imaginary cauldron once again, Sara began chanting and spinning around it. "'Eye of newt, and toe of frog, wool of bat and tongue of dog, adder's fork.' Come on Becky say it with me." She held her hands out and Becky eagerly scrambled from the bed to take them within her own. Sara didn't even notice the rough calluses or how filthy they were, her hands were the same – cleanliness was not given to maids.
They chanted together, spinning faster and faster till they were too dizzy to stand and then they fell to the floor with more gales of laughter – and still their laughter was quiet. Maids were not allowed to be noticed.
"Oh Miss, I don't know the proper words." Becky wiped her eyes of the tears of joy that lingered. "But it sure be fun to say."
Crossing her legs before her, Sara looked into Becky's dirty face and grinned, "Repeat after me. 'Eye of newt, and toe of frog –"
The door banged open with a crack that shook dust from the ceiling rafters. "Black magic? Is this what I get after all I've done for you Sara? Your curses and spells?" It was Miss Minchin. Hair tied back in a severe knot, it appeared that she had not yet readied herself for bed despite the late hour. "Practicing your witch craft under my roof?" Although her voice was low, it held an underlying tone that was filled with disgust.
Scrabbling to her feet, Sara stood meekly before the keeper. "No Miss Minchin. I was quoting some lines from a story."
"You dare call that quoting? I've really had it up to here with your little stories, Sara." Miss Minchin paced through Sara's room, her heels clicked smartly on the wooden floors and her drab coloured gown swished with every step. "All these years Sara, I've put up with so much." Facing Sara she gave a look that to many would appear contrite, but Sara knew better, "What would happen if any of the students caught onto your little games?"
Sara gave Becky a look to quell her want to answer and Becky nodded her understanding when she caught the look. Sara opened her mouth to answer Miss Minchin's question, but the woman held her hand up and replied distastefully, "No, don't answer that. No doubt you'll have some other excuse for yourself." She sighed, "No Sara, this is the last draw. For the best interest of the school, I want you to leave. I want you gone. I want to never see you again! Do you understand?"
Sara was not one to beg and had never done so in her life, but on this occasion, something tore at her and she immediately dropped to her knees. Well aware that was serious, that she would be a goner if she were to live on the streets. "Please, Miss Minchin. Give me another chance."
Miss Minchin raised her brow scornfully and scoffed, "What is this? A 'princess' begging?" She forced a laugh and shook her head, "A princess no more. Perhaps a princess of the streets, but not here." Her voice shifting to quieter more menacing tone, she continued, "Too long have you poisoned these girls minds. Too long have I fed and clothed you. Too long have you been taking from my hand and not repaying me."
Refraining from saying that all of Miss Minchin's points were false, Sara clasped her hands before her and attempted again, "Please, I was only quoting. That is all. I promise I'll never do it again. I swear." Already she could feel a lump forming in her throat. She had heard the tales of the girls who lived on the streets; selling themselves just to keep the rumble from their empty stomachs. Tears were already blurring her vision, but she wouldn't allow them to fall. Not before Miss Minchin – princesses never cried, at least not in public.
Waving her hand to dismiss Sara's pleas, Miss Minchin strode to the door, "Becky, I hope that you didn't pick up on any of these distasteful habits, I would sorely hate to lose such a hard worker." At these words, Becky gave a sad and woeful look at Sara and fled to her room.
Still standing at the door, Miss Minchin held it open and said, "Come along Sara, take what you want, but I doubt you've anything to take." She sniffed at Sara's appearance on the floor, "I'm glad that I've ground that little princess attitude out of you."
It was choking her and Sara couldn't do anything, she was scared. There had been times she'd been frightened, but it had never been like this gut wrenching fear. Her muscles were tense and bile rose in her throat. Never had it been like this. A lone tear escaped and trailed along her down cast face to fall to her clutched hands. More would have followed but she closed her eyes tightly.
She bent her head forward a little more, her hair curtaining around her face to hide her fear. Whispering, "Papa? If you can hear me wherever you are, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I was not perfect. I'm sorry for not being your little angel. I'm sorry I'm not your little princess. I'm sorry, Papa." And now she couldn't help the tears, for they flowed without thought down her smooth cheeks. It hurt this pain, this fear.
A draft of air caressed her tear stained cheek and whispered in her ear, ' strong...Sara...'
She jumped, the moment broken and she rose to her feet gracefully and straightened. She would not leave here like a whipped puppy, she would still try to be the princess again. For Papa. Her doll she would leave behind, Becky would be able to get more love out of it. Her locket, was hers. "Please, if you could give my doll to Becky."
Miss Minchin made no promises, but merely nodded which Sara had to take as her word. Sara took one last despairing look at her room and followed the keeper down the rickety stairs, flight after flight, until they reached the main hall where the girl's rooms led off. Not once did Sara falter in her descent and nor would she allow her tears to blind her. As they went down the final grand staircase down into the foyer Sara could hear doors creak open and she felt all the more shamed for it. They were seeing her be kicked out of a place that, despite the daily hostility and chores, had become home.
Unlocking the inner doors and then the front doors, Miss Minchin held it open, letting the biting air come gusting in. "Good bye Sara."
Sara stepped out of the house and into the real world. "Good bye Miss Minchin." And Sara, without a backwards glance, marched down the stairs as if she had a destination in mind. Little did she know, were the faces of every girl in the house pressed to the windows; Becky at the highest window bawling her heart out and holding Sara's doll close to her chest.

Sara was out in the real world now where fantasies were put aside and dreams cast away. She had to fend for herself now and despite what her heart tried to tell her, her mind was set on the fact that she was a little princess no more.