My Mother, Drizella and I were securely trapped in the prison for days. They gave us disgusting liquidy green food on Sundays for breakfast lunch and dinner, and each day they gave us the same gooey thing in different colours. The cooks called it mashed potatoes, but do mashed potatoes come in different colour and burn in your mouth? We only went out on rare occasions and it was extremely infuriating.
Whenever we did go out, Mother always made us visit Cinderella. Cinderella and her husband barely wanted to make contact with us now, so I was always surprised when Mother suggested it. Perhaps she thought that we could go plead for mercy to Cinderella and explain what was going on. Maybe she thought Cinderella would believe us. Fat chance of that happening. She was the worst sister ever. And people thought we were the bad sisters.
As we were sitting on the cell, bored, Drizella suddenly smiled. I was surprised to see that emotion on her face, as she usually always complained of being trapped in that jail cell.
“Come on, Anastasia, let’s play the hand game!” She suddenly suggested. I was taken aback because we hadn’t played the hand game since we were small.
“You mean ‘The Days of the Week’?” I asked, just to make sure. Drizella nodded.
“Yep. That’s it. The Days of the Week.” She replied with a hefty grin.
‘The Days of the Week’ is a game that requires at least two people. You and your team members have their palms in front of them. If you have one team member, your right or left hand has to be under their hand, and your other hand has to be placed on their other palm. If you have multiple team members, then you place one of your palms above theirs and the other, under theirs. Basically, the person (you or your teammate/s) who have their palm above, has to place their hand on your palm. You have to keep saying each day of the week each time you place your arm or they place their arm. (You have to alternate placing hands). When you get to Saturday, though, whoever’s palm is on top has to try their best to place their/your palm on their/yours. The aim is to remove your hand before they can place their hand on yours on ‘Saturday’. If you do that, you win, so it’s a substantially straightforward game.
Drizella won. She always does. Right when we were little.
As we were finishing off, a prison guard came into the room. She had a warm, star-struck smile on her face, like she’d just seen her biggest fan.
“Princess Cinderella has asked to visit you!” she squeaked. I sighed.
“Well, we don’t want to visit her.” I said angrily.
“Too right!” Mum agreed.
“I will go tell her that then.” The guard said, looking disappointed.
It had been quite a few minutes so I assumed that the guard was never coming back, but exactly an hour later, she came into the room, a smile plastered on her face and Cinderella following closely behind with a somewhat disgusted look on her face.
“Thanks for gracing us with your presence, Cinderella,” Drizella said sarcastically, rolling her eyes for extra effect.
“Why did you let her in?” Mum asked, looking extremely angry. She looked ready to break a chair she was so worked up.
“Princess’ orders. Sorry, ma’am.” The guard said. “Also, could I have an autograph, Princess?” the guard asked. Cinderella sighed.
“I can’t now, I’ve come to discuss family issues.” Cinderella said politely.
“Please? I’ve wanted to be you since I was little!” the guard relented desperately.
“Fine.” Cinderella sighed, penning her autograph on the guard’s wrist.
“I’m never washing my wrist again.” The starstruck guard gasped, slowly finally starting to exit the room, with a sort of radiant smile.
“Hello, girls. I’ve come for an explanation.” Cinderella said. We were all shocked. After weeks for explaining, she still wouldn’t listen to us?
“We told you, we didn’t vandalise that wall!” I said, nearly sobbing. Cinderella rolled her eyes, looking in the brink of remote frustration.
“You know I can’t believe you in that matter. The whole kingdom tells me the same thing, and those photos! It’s your word against theirs.” She said. I couldn’t believe her confused, ill-minded self. I wanted to break down, but I knew I had to act dignified.
“I can’t believe you, Cinderella.” Drizella said on the brink of tears. “For the last few weeks, Anastasia and I have been the best sisters to you, and Mother has been the best step-mother to you. Yet you don’t trust us still. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say it: you are the worst sister, you are the one who had been fussy to us all our lives and made a bunch of villagers believe it and yet you still want revenge for something that didn’t happen. You are the one who just lives for luxury and not family. So clearly, you have been the monster and mean sister. And no one can change my opinion about that, especially not pesky villagers.”
Cinderella gasped. “I…” her eyes filled with tears.
“You’re right. All of you are right. I have been the untrustworthy sister, the one no one likes. I am the worst sister, and I am still confused how the villagers believe otherwise. I’m… I’m a monster…” Tears fell from her eyes. My sister, my mother and I sighed.
“Why are you crying?” Mum said rudely. “We should be the ones crying.”
Cinderella wiped her tears. “You’re right, I’ll stop.”
“Is there a purpose for your crying? Are you finally going to let us out?” I asked with an angry look on my face. By the expression on her face, I already knew she would let us out.
“No.” She cried. The whole room went silent. “What do you mean, no?” I asked.Her face turned red as she braced for telling us something.
“Well, I can’t just believe you, only because we’re family. No, the whole kingdom would turn against me, telling me I’m biased. So obviously, I won’t let you out with evidence.” Cinderella said. She didn’t even wait for our reaction and walked out of the room in tears.
We were quiet for a moment. One peaceful moment, until Mother screamed.
“That girl…” she yelled, letting all her anger out, pointing out all the flaws in her.
“Mother, letting out anger isn’t going to help. How are we going to convince Cinderella – or the village – that we are innocent?” Drizella said worriedly.
“I’ve had enough of this village. And Cinderella. What sort of family is she?” Mother said, pacing around the jail cell worriedly, apparently deep in thought.
“Then… where do we go?” I asked. Mother seemed to be zoned out but when I asked her, she shook, startled.
“Wherever the wind takes us.”
I had to admit, going away from what had been my home for months was hard. We didn’t even get to say goodbye to Cinderella but I wasn’t complaining. She was much to selfish to be part of our family anymore. I hoped that one day she would realise her mistakes.
The prison door was already open. This startled all of us. Maybe we were getting released? But before we could find out, we ran. We ran like the wind.