Sinful Cinderella

I turn another corner and find myself at the front of the castle. I hear pounding steps from behind that tells me Edgar is chasing. Papa help me! He is the wolf now and I am the rabbit.

The terrace is too high for me to jump, I need the stairs. They’re not far ahead, another thirty yards or so. The tall, double doors pour out their golden light. The two guards stand calm and quiet on either side, as if the world didn’t just become a living nightmare.

I reach the staircase and hurl myself down it. My crystal slippers hammer the steps - clink! clink! clink! clink! clink! - fast as the tripping of my heart. I spy a team and carriage on the gravel drive below me – my carriage! Waiting for me just as I asked. Bless you, mouse-driver! Bless you forever and ever and always!

And then my foot turns under me and I fall.

I’m going too fast to stop. I tumble heavily, arms over legs, the hard edges of the stairs slamming my back, my hips, my shins. I roll to a stop near the bottom of the stairs, my skirt bunched over my knees. I’ve lost a shoe. Flash quick, I whip off the other shoe and sprint to the carriage on my bare feet. The mouse-driver quietly holds the door and I leap inside.

“Drive! Drive!” I shriek. “There’s a cat!”

I’m right in guessing he would understand this. He springs up to the driver’s seat and the carriage jerks forward, the horses jumping into full gallop. I’m kneeling on the floor, my whole body a throbbing bruise, peering over the edge of the window.

Edgar is at the bottom of the stairs. He’s holding something white and shiny in his hand – my crystal slipper. He lifts it high as my carriage barrels away, his voice ringing out over the night.

“Do not think you can fly, little crow! I will find you!”