My entry for a competition. I highly doubt any copying would occur, but please don't copy it!


1. cinderkilla

Cinderella. That's what they used to call me. The girl in the cinders, where I was forced to sleep. That's what my step-mother thought it meant, but mother said otherwise. She said that a cinder no longer has a flame, but inside, well inside it can still light; it just needs a spark. She died before the spark came, as did my father. If only they'd seen me, I wonder what they would've thought.

The spark came when I was pushed too far, my heart tired of the insults and abuse. And the flame? The flame was murder.

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