Lego: Hi everyone, again. Yes, I'm posting another oneshot that has nothing to do with MS. This time, it wasn't really my fault. This oneshot was written for my stupid english class. We were supposed to write an 800 word (it ended up because over 2000 words, but whatever, I could care less) parody story of a fairy tale (my teacher didn't care if we used Disney movies but I know for a fact that Cinderella is indeed a fairy tale, I just happened to have chosen the Disney form to rewrite because I didn't like the other versions very much). In the parody story, we were supposed to write it from the point of view of a side character and make them the hero/heroine. I chose Cinderella and decided to write it from her step sister's, Anastasia, point of view. I also made Cinderella the anti protagonist. Note: The title does not mean the movie Anastasia. The name comes from the original. Since the original story is called "Cinderella", I decided to use the "main" character's name, Anastasia, as the title. If that makes sense to any of you at all. Anyway, this is one of my first "first person present tense" stories and I hate first person present tense, but I didn't know how else to write it and still make it sound good. I'm sorry that it's really short but I did have a word limit. Hope you like it! Enjoy and R&R!
Disclaimer: I do not own Cinderella or anything else Disney related. I only own this idea.
For as long as I have been in this family, my step sister has always been prettier. Now that we are almost adults, she's gorgeous.
I am so jealous.
How am I supposed to marry the prince if I'm not beautiful? Mother wants that for me, but I can't because I'm not pretty enough. I don't know how to change it either. We've done all sorts of things – make-up, clothes, shoes – but nothing works.
Even my sister, Drazella, is prettier than me. At this rate, she'll be the one marrying the prince instead of me even though Mother promised I'd be his bride.
I sigh as I apply more make-up to my ugly, blotchy skin.
Will he ever see me as anything different than what I see in the mirror?
I sigh again.
I suppose I have to meet him first.
"Anastasia!" my sister calls from the next room over. "Hurry up! I want my make-up back!"
"Your make-up?" I shout in reply. "What do you mean your make-up? This stuff is mine!" Drazella growls from her bedroom.
"No, it's mine!" I glare at the mirror and stomp to the doors; I slam them shut and go back to applying my make-up.
"She's such a liar and she's such a grouch." I can hear her complaining and shouting through the crack under the door but I'm determined not to listen to her.
After I finish doing my eyes, there is a knock at my door.
"Come in!" I shout. The large doors open and Cinderella enters the room.
"I'm sorry to disturb you Anastasia," she says, "but I have your dress." She lays out a beautiful pink gown on my bed. "Would you like help putting it on?" I smile at her and stand in the center of the room.
"Yes," I say. "I would like that very much." She helps me out of my day dress and I stand in my underclothing.
"How would you like your hair done?" she asks as she holds my dress for me to step in; I do so and she pulls it up over my shoulders.
"I would like it curled in ringlets," I reply and slip my arms into the dress sleeves.
"As you wish, Anastasia," she says and does up the back of the dress. I smile at myself in the mirror when I sit down at my make-up table; I'm beginning to look prettier with all the make-up and the dress. Too bad my nose is horribly huge.
Cinderella takes the brush sitting on the tabletop and gently brings it through my hair. I glance at the auburn color in the mirror and make a face; it's horribly off color and the strands are very dry. I don't know how my step sister can stand to do my hair, if I can even call her that anymore; Mother made her our slave after my step father died.
"Would you like the curls over your shoulders or pulled back?" she asks as she covers my shoulders and dress with a white towel. I think about my answer while she wets my hair.
"Pulled back would be nice," I say. She gently twists my hair around small rings and pulls them tight against my head but not hard enough to hurt.
"As you wish, Anastasia," she says. When she's finished, she pats my hair and makes sure the rings will stay in.
"I will return when your hair is done," Cinderella tells me. "I must do Drazella's hair now." She bows her way out and softly shuts the door behind her. I sigh when she's gone and stare at myself in the mirror; my hair looks like a sick, dark orange color when it's wet and makes my make-up look horrible. I can't wait until it's dry.
"I think I have too much foundation on," I mutter aloud to myself. "I look really pale." I wash my face and begin my make-up all over again while I wait for Cinderella to return. My thoughts wander to my step sister's beauty.
If she went to the ball, I would be no match for her. She's beautiful in anything she wears and the prince would no doubt find her dazzling.
I wish I could be as dazzling as she is. It's a good thing she isn't interested in princes and balls. All she wants is to ride her horse freely again instead of being cooped up in the house doing chores.
I sigh again and put away my foundation; the blush comes next.
I have no chance at winning the prince's heart. If Drazella doesn't, some other girl will. He won't love me because I'm not pretty and I can't do anything except order people around. Will he want a girl like that? I doubt it. Okay, well, I can play the flute, but not very well. He still won't want a girl like that; I'm too spoiled.
There is a short knock at my door and my mother calls through the cracks, "Anastasia! You have thirty minutes. Do you hear me? Thirty minutes. You must be ready by then."
"Okay Mother!" I call back. I hear her footsteps fade as she walks away and I quickly finish my eyes and lips.
"Oh Cinderella," I mutter, "do hurry up." I examine my make-up as I wait and make another face. At least it looks better than it did before. I jump in the chair slightly when there is another knock at the door; this one is polite so I know it's Cinderella.
"Come in!" I shout and the left side door opens. My step sister approaches me and carefully releases my hair from the rings; the bouncy curls fall around my shoulders, brushing them lightly. I smile; it makes me look prettier than before. Cinderella pulls them back and ties a piece of elegant string around the unruly curls, finishing with a light pink feather in the knot. My own smile widens; the curls fall around my face and hide the chubbiness of my cheeks.
"There you go, Anastasia," Cinderella says as she bows her way to the doors. "I hope you like it. Don't forget your shoes; it's almost time for you to leave." She closes the door behind her after she leaves. I carefully get up and gather the shoes I will wear that night; they are simple, pink slippers that match my dress.
I glance at myself one more time in the mirror – I look pretty now – before I make my way out the door and down to the main hall.
"Goodness Anastasia," Drazella comments as I join them by the front entrance, "you are such a copy-cat." I glare at her; it's true we are both wearing the same thing – her in green, I in pink – but she's a liar.
"I didn't copy you," I say. "I picked this outfit first." Before we can continue our argument, Mother interrupts us.
"Girls," she says. "Cinderella!" My step sister appears at the top of the stairs.
"Yes Step Mother?"
"We are leaving now and will be back late. The house must be clean by the time we get back and no later."
"Yes Step Mother."
I follow my sister out the door; our footman helps us into the carriage.
"Now, Anastasia, Drazella," Mother says as we begin to move. "I want you both to be on your best behavior." She looks me straight in the eye. "You especially Anastasia. You have to win his heart." Her eyes narrow. "If you fail, Drazella will win him and you will join your step sister with doing the household chores." I swallow.
"Yes Mother," I say. "I will win him." At least, I hope I will. I'm afraid he won't like me, but I'll do my best. I really want to win his heart. I hope I can.
We arrive at the castle moments later. Our footman helps us out of the carriage and I stop, staring in awe at the massive structure. I swallow and keep myself from licking my lips; my heart pounds, threatening to pop out of my chest.
"Hurry up," Drazella says in an irritated tone from behind me; she pushes me forward and walks past. I follow her with a glare.
"Girls." Mother's tone is warning. We both fall silent as we make our way into the castle and past all the guards. There are other girls with their parents in front of us, waiting to get into the great hall.
My heart speeds up and my palms start to sweat. Am I going to hyperventilate? I think I might faint.
I lose sight of my surroundings and sway slightly.
What if he doesn't like me? What if I'm rejected? What if I make a fool of myself? What if Drazella wins his heart instead of me?
I suppress a groan. I don't think I can do this. I'm so scared. My eyes widen. We're getting closer. Soon, we'll be entering the great hall and I'll see him for the first time up close.
My heart continues to pound as we are announced. There he is, standing right in front of me. I am motioned forward and I slowly approach him, bowing deeply.
"Your Highness," I say; my voice shakes. As I come back up, our eyes meet. I feel my face heat up and I know I'm blushing. He looks surprised but he doesn't look away and takes my hand gently.
"What did you say your name was?" My face gets hotter and I swallow.
"I didn't say," I reply shyly, "but my name is Anastasia."
"Anastasia," he breathes as though testing my name. "It's beautiful." My heart skips a beat and I let out a breath.
"Beautiful?" I ask. He nods. "No one has ever called me beautiful before." He smiles; his smile is wonderful.
"You are uniquely beautiful," he says. My heart flutters.
"Uniquely beautiful?" I say. "Really?" He nods again.
"After the introductions," he whispers, "would you like to join me in the first dance?" I feel like fainting.
"Absolutely," I say softly; I can barely hear my own voice. "I would absolutely love to dance with you first." He smiles and kisses my hand gently.
"It's very nice to meet you Anastasia," he says quietly. "I will see you on the dance floor." I bow to him and walk backward; it's disappointing to no longer have his hand in mine but I know he'll hold it again soon. Drazella, the next in line, approaches him. I can see by her body language that she's going to try to seduce him in some way or another. I make a face. That evil little thing.
"The prince is mine!" I want to shout, but I don't. That would draw too much attention to me and I don't think the prince would like that very much.
"What did he say to you?" Mother asks me quietly when I return to her side.
"He wants to dance with me first," I reply softly. A smirk makes its way onto her face; for some reason, it looks like it belongs there and that scares me a little.
"Perfect," she says. "You have him in your grasp. The crown is ours."
"Don't you mean mine?" I ask. She glares at me momentarily before replying.
"Of course Anastasia; all yours." I'm suspicious of her, but I shove that feeling away; I'm going to enjoy my night with the prince and hope that I'm the one he chooses.
I watch my prince's face as he bows to Drazella; he looks disgusted at her flirting. I smile; he doesn't care about her, he wants me. That excites me. My sister returns to Mother's side not a moment later. She doesn't look very happy. That also makes me smile though I hide that fact from her.
Watching the other girls approach my prince and flirt with him makes me angry and uncomfortable, but I never let my eyes leave him. I know that soon it will be our night and the others won't have anything they can do about it; I belong to the prince and he belongs to me. That's just the way it is.
Finally, the moment arrives. The prince bows to the last lady and announces that the dancing will begin. Without hesitation, I step out onto the open floor. He smiles at me and holds out his hand. I smile back and take it gently. He pulls me close and rests a hand on my waist – I place mine on his shoulder – and we start with a basic dance.
Oh the exhilaration! My heart is beating so fast I feel as though it (once again) is going to pop right out of my chest. His touch is gentle but firm and I have no fear of him letting go of me or dropping me in any way. Before I know it, we dance right out of the great hall – I only glance at our surroundings once before we hold each other's eyes.
We stop in the garden and he helps me sit on one of the many benches before sitting next to me. I try to control my fast paced heart and heavy breathing. I've never felt so alive before this moment. I can't believe that the prince wanted me, Anastasia, step sister of the most beautiful girl in the land.
I can't keep from smiling, especially when he holds my hand. I no longer blush in his presence; I feel like I've known him my whole life just by dancing with him tonight.
"Anastasia," he says softly as I stare at the beautiful flowers shining in the moonlight.
"Yes, my prince?" I reply, my voice level matching his.
"I have made a decision." Surprised, I meet his gaze.
"About what?" He kneels down in front of me and takes both of my hands.
"The ball was intended for me to find my bride tonight," he says slowly, holding my eyes steadfast. My heart skips a beat; has he really chosen me?
"And did you find her?" I manage to whisper. He nods once.
"Anastasia," he says; I sit in shock, "uniquely beautiful Anastasia, would you be my beloved bride?" My heart skips another beat and I fall off the bench and into his arms.
"Yes," I say before his lips envelop mine.