Cinderfella ~A Modern Fairy Tale~

They say that Cinderella was blessed with her prince through her kindness and hard work and a little bit of magic. Well. The magic part's definitely not going to happen for me. Don't mistake me, I'm no Cinderella. But my prince is...

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9. Chapter 9

Blood pulses through my veins, I toss and turn. I'm restless. It's early in the morning and I can hear the doorbell ringing, the supplies arriving for the party.

"Roses? I didn't order roses, I wanted carnations, I specifically stated that carnations were to be the decorations-"

My mother's voice floats up from the ground level and I roll my eyes. Carnations. I ordered the roses instead secretly. I hate carnations, they smell weird. 

"Ma'am it says roses, clearly marked on the order form here."

"Well-" she sputters shrilly, "I didn't order them! Take them back, I will be calling your owner later to inform them of your insolent attitude."

The door slams, I wince.

I want to contact Xavi, but he doesn't have facebook or internet. But...I know his home address. An idea forms in my mind.

I scour my drawers until I find them. A small bunch of USA forever stamps from summer camp two years ago. I don't have an envelope in my room. Damn. I make a makeshift one out of a sheet of paper and tape.

Sitting down at my desk, I pause. What should I write? I chew on the tip of the pen, lost in thought.

Dear Xavi,

 I love you.

I crumple that up and toss it into the trash can. The paper slides along my finger, cutting me and I yelp. I instinctively put my wounded finger into my mouth and the taste of blood, the sickly sweet copper taste invading my senses. I cry, not because it hurts but because my chest is tight and my whole body aches.

Dear Xavi,

You're probably wondering why I left with the cop. In short, it wasn't because I don't love you. It's because my parents could blacklist you if they wanted to, arrest you if they wanted to. I don't want to see you hurt or see your life ruined because of me, please try to understand.

In two days, my parents are going to basically auction me off to a rich guy in a massive house party. Don't worry, I'm not going to go through with it. I'm just going to refuse to choose a guy. They said that they'd throw as many parties as it would take for me to find a match though, and time is running out. I'll do my best to escape, but..it's complicated. I'm isolated. I have no friends, no allies except for you. I don't know who to turn to. I'm considering getting a restraining order on my parents though. Not sure if that would actually work though.

I love you, and I only want to be with you. That much I'm certain of. We could be poor until the end of time, never go to college and I would still love you.

Te amo.

Vanessa

I seal up the letter and wait for someone to get close to the house. Another person leaves, probably the caterer. I open the window and whistle. Sure enough, the poor man looks up bewildered. He seems frazzled, I don't blame him. My mom gets to everyone.

"HEY!" I call. I tie a rock to the letter, fumbling for a second, and toss it down. "Can you put this in the mailbox?" 

"With the rock?" he calls up, confused.

"No, remove the rock."

He does and stares pointedly at my makeshift envelope.

"Uh, sure." He rolls his eyes. I know what he's thinking. Fucking rich kids, they act like everyone's their servant. I don't care. If I told him the truth he wouldn't believe me.

I wait. And wait. Since it's in-state, a reply should come within a day or two if he sends me a reply the moment he gets it. A day passes. The day of the party arrives, but there's still no letter as the postman comes and goes, although I do get other mail from college admissions. I tear them up. No point. I've been accepted to the one school I want to attend, but I can't go thanks to my father's obsession with money. Anger consumes me.

"Vanessa?" My mother interjects my thoughts, knocking at the door. I jump off of my bed, startled, hoping my guilty and anger-ridden expression won't be noticed. Luckily my mother's fixating on the box in her hands.

"This is your dress for tonight," she says softly, as though she's trying to make amends. I don't say anything, but it is a lovely dress, even if I didn't choose it. The soft, wine red fabric compliments my pale skin and black hair. If only Xavi could see me in it...the thought depresses me. He's probably gone by now. Like a butterfly, he's been lost to the wind. 

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