She ran down the stairs as the clock struck midnight, the bells ringing in the distance. The prince’s voice called after her, but she had her focus set. Cinderella had to get away. It was fun, true, being someone else for a night. But wearing those expensive pearls and her too-heavy gown was not her reality. Having all those eyes set on her, in awe or in hatred, was not quite what she had wanted.
Her carriage was at the foot of the stairs, the doors open and her footman, Gus, beckoning her to enter. She did not look back. The door closed behind her and a few seconds later, the carriage was in motion. The horses trodded as fast as they could, racing against the clock.
With the house in view, the carriage began to shimmer and transform. Cinderella, who had been sitting on plush velvet seats, was thrown off onto the asphalt ground. She watched as the carriage shrunk, turning into nothing but a pumpkin. Nearby, the elegant, white horses also changed forms. Their long legs bent into themselves, huge bodies and long tails becoming smaller and smaller, until they were barely a tenth of their previous size. They squeaked and cried, running in circles and bumping into each other. Gus, who had looked so regal earlier, was now reduced to a mouse as well, biting its fingers and cleaning off its tail.
Cinderella, herself, was not immune to the changes. Her beautiful blue gown and her jewelry had transformed into her familiar rags — a simple thin dress with a stained apron. She stood up and dusted herself off.
“Well, that was quite a night, wasn’t it?” Cinderella said.
It was Cinderella’s sixth night of being locked in the attic. A few months have passed since the ball and here she was, on another streak of being locked up. Sometimes, her stepmother would let her out to clean or cook. But most days and nights, she was left to herself with nothing to do but reminisce on her single night of freedom. Her stomach grumbled as she looked out of her window. A single mouse scurried around her room picking up her crumbs, her only source of entertainment in her lovely bedroom.
“Oh, Cinderella,” a familiar voice said behind her, “what have they done to you now?”
Cinderella shifted. Fairy Godmother rushed to her, enveloping her thin body in her arms.
“You’re here. Please. Do it again.” Cinderella asked.
Fairy Godmother cupped Cinderella’s gaunt face. Fairy Godmother sobbed as she said, “You know I cannot.”
Cinderella slapped Fairy Godmother’s hands away and moved to the farther end of the room, her back turned. “But Fairy Godmother… this is your fault. You should have known this is what they would do to me,” her voice barely a whisper.
“I… I only hoped to —“
“Stop.” Cinderella said as she faced Fairy Godmother. “I have been waiting and waiting. What took you so long?”
Fairy Godmother watched as Cinderella moved slowly towards her. She took a couple of steps back, but not quite enough as Cinderella was now standing an inch away from her. Something in Cinderella had changed since she’d last saw her. Her eyes were dark and empty now, Fairy Godmother realized.
“No matter. You’re here now. So please,” Cinderella said, as her lips slowly curved upwards. “Please do your magic to me.”
“Cinderella…” Fairy Godmother whispered.
“Just a little transformation! Can’t you do that Fairy Godmother?”
Fairy Godmother shook her head, “I’m sorry. I have to go.”
Cinderella frowned at her. She’d imagined this encounter differently. During her solitary nights, she’d imagined Fairy Godmother arriving and happily waving her wand to help her out of the nightmare she was living in. She’d ask Fairy Godmother to do it all again, make something shiny out of her rags and those pesky little mice. Except, well, her little friends had been reduced to just one. She couldn’t quite catch that one — Gus, maybe — but the rest have been useful.
“It’s alright. I’ve been preparing if things went differently. You can’t leave now, I’m afraid, my Fairy Godmother.”
The room felt sinister and heavy. Fairy Godmother consciously tried to disappear and magic herself out and away from Cinderella, but a force was keeping her tied right where they were.
Cinderella took out a pouch from her apron’s pocket. It was old and dirty. She took out a bunch of small, cream-white colored objects from within, and showed it to Fairy Godmother from the palm of her thin hand. “You see, I’ve been busy praying, reaching out to anyone,” She laughed. “—offering my friends. They’ve really helped a lot! Someone’s answered, too.”
Fairy Godmother trembled. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Her skin was shiny with sweat, and her breathing was raspy. She stared horrifyingly as Cinderella dropped the small bones on the ground one by one. Slowly, Fairy Godmother’s wand began to lose its glow. Cinderella took it from her and Fairy Godmother groaned as it turned into a deep, black shade.
Cinderella pointed the newly transformed wand at Fairy Godmother and said, “Bippity… boppity… boop.”