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Cinderella

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Summary

He held in his predator like hands, a single clear heel. Blood tinted her cheeks, clear of blemish and shyly eyed the man on his knees. They both knew from that instance they had found each-other. Skinny and weak was she, poor and looked down on; a swan in a family of vultures. While the rich lived their lives daily, in luxury and satisfaction, they were the predators and those like her, the prey. She was always on a journey, this time she finally looked back and saw a huntsmen following her trail. Each feather he picked she felt a spark but never stopped to make him go back. When winter finally came all was revealed. A swan spreading it’s wings, the huntsman’s finger on the trigger and a three-headed dog making it’s move. What else could possibly go wrong? Magic.

Status
8yrs ago
Chapters
2
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
18+

Prologue

Along the shore was a golden horizon, preparing for the presentation of the one and only golden orb. Reels of water crashed against the rocks, natural solids of the earth, and faltered back into the stillness of the ocean. Unexplored and unknown, the vast volume of water held a mysterious beauty to the jade eyes, woe in the heart and a satisfied sigh in the breath. Her eyes were the gems her father loved, jade greens and exactly what she was called. She held a cheeky smile behind the innocent features her mother gave her and laughed an unexpectedly raspy laugh. Though slightly high-pitched, her laugh resembled her fathers’, her joy and happiness. She skipped happily, barefoot and noticeable between the taller humans by her side who guided and watched the path of her feet for her. Her age was shown in her height and personality, her intelligence was visible in her interest and explanations, proving that she was highly intelligent for her age. Though, she was a child and at the age of six she had some traits visible in all young children. One of her kitten paw like hands was grasped gently and securely in her mothers, the other in a gentle tight grip of her father’s larger hands and since she was safe, secured by her parents, she jumped, trusting in them to help her hover as if she were a beautiful swan.

The small child flew and soared in her imagination, her mind escaping and senses honing in on the sound of crashing waves and birds hollering. She opened her beady green eyes and watched the blue canvas above her become painted with grey and black, thundering and striking with igniting lights. She listened as the natural calls of birds became distorted into sounds of sorrow, the mourning and screaming cries. The swans’ breathing rate increased, blood rate fluctuating, almost as if she were given myocardial infarction and then heard the natural sounds of the ocean stop, not even a second and turn into a thud. Her head swerved in pain while her wings were being ripped apart in half and in-between them were bones, which then became wrapped with nerves and vessels, muscles, fat and now they were arms. Her legs had decayed, flesh of a bird turning into bone and now were wrapped up again like presents, and visible to the human eye were legs. Her neck shortened painfully, and the rest of her snowy feathers withered, falling and became flesh.

She stood there in milliseconds, human again, forgetting who she was and watched the world around her in sorrow. She was dressed in black, a beautiful colour and her hand was in the safety of a tall man who looked at her lovingly, yet in anguish. A hollow looking box sat ahead, a fading presence felt and she listened as the soft voice denied her as her beating heart calling for who it was. Then it wasn’t hollow, she had realised that and was curious to know who it was that laid there so peacefully and happily with flower crowns and arrayed in gold while everyone cried. She let go of the man and ran to the box, her childish curiosity getting the better of her, not noticing her mind maturing and body morphing. She watched from the edge of the rectangular casket, much older now and stared at the beautiful woman. Her eyes weren’t open, but her hair held the colour she loved so much. Then she stared, speechless at the eyes that now opened in front of her, a grey glazed over and happy yet dull and sad. A high-pitched noise was once mute, now slowly turned into an audible death like scream. Again, she was happy, watching her father smile in just minutes after horror and trauma. She was screaming. Blood like sweat stayed in forms of beads on her forehead, her body pale and cold.

She couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to hear those words again.

“I hope you two can get along.”

He was smiling like nothing happened. Like everything was fine and that he didn’t care. And when the door to her bedroom opened she remembered those white feathers leading down a path to a dirty figure of flesh and blood, now trapped on the ground. A once free soul which now couldn’t fly

Her green orbs closed and now she laid there silently, breathing out her despair.

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author

this is nice story

7 years
2

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