I’m sure you’ve read the story of Cinderella before, but have you ever considered my side of the story? I’m Lady Tremaine, also known as the wicked stepmother. Before you close this book and go on judging me like everyone else, hear me out. Once upon a time I innocently fell in love with a man, Ella’s father. While he was home Ella acted angelic, but when he left for business trips, she was dreadfully different. She would sit in the fireplace until she was covered in soot and purposefully track it around the house. She would not stop shouting until I cleaned it. That’s how she earned the nickname, Cinderella.
My husband suddenly passed away, leaving me alone with Ella and my two biological daughters, Anastasia and Drizella. I vowed to him that I would take care of Ella and love her as my own, but she has continued to hate me. On her rare outings, she had enjoyed spread horrid rumors of me making her slave away and always wanting, but never being able, to earn my love or appreciation. In reality, I simply made her work when she misbehaved, but that didn’t begin to delay her misconduct.
Nine years later, Cinderella was 18 and unruly, while my girls were 20 and 19, both wonderful ladies. Anastasia began horse riding and walking with the prince in her free time. He seemed to fancy her and planned to hold a ball at his castle, where he would invite every lady in the land, to choose his fiancé. Anastasia began to twirl her beautiful, long, red curls and flutter her eyelashes at the sound of Prince Henry’s name. When Cinderella heard of this ball, she met with me and begged me to drop her restrictions for the night. I agreed, how could I not? She is one of my daughters, and I was so excited to see all three of my girls twirling and whirling across the ballroom floor.
“My only condition is that you must obey the rules until then,” I said, excited to show her my joy in this compromise.
“Yes mother, thank you so very much. I will, I will behave, and I have the perfect dress! Thank you!” She squealed, and reached up to hug me for the first time I could remember since her father took his last breath. She kept her word until the day of the ball.
“Hey, that’s mine, and I want it.” I heard Anastasia hiss.
“No, you gave it to me, and it matches my dress. I’m using it!” Cinderella howled.
“I’ll teach you some manners!” Anastasia countered. I heard a horrid ripping noise from the other room.
“Girls, stop screeching and yelling like that! Drizella! Anastasia! Stop tearing Ella’s dress or you will stay home as well!” They strutted back to my side. Anastasia grinned approvingly realizing Cinderella would not have a chance to charm her prince.
“But I didn’t do anything!” Cinderella stuttered, “She’s the one who misbehaved… you’ve always loved her more! No matter how hard I try it’s never enough!” With that she rushed up the staircase with her hands over her face and wails cracking her voice.
“Mother, I have never been good enough to stand beside Ella’s beauty, and now she is stealing from me! What’s next? Prince Henry himself? Mother, what if he meets her and never looks at me again?” Anastasia looked me right in the eyes with tears rolling down her face, “What if she steals him?”
“The prince seeks your inner beauty and that is something Cinderella will never be able to replicate. Come let’s not be late to the ball.” We hurried toward the castle, and at the ball Anastasia danced with the price, I enjoyed socializing, and Drizella, of course, ate, but instead of alone, with a splendid young man who made her look happier than the cake on her plate did. This excited me, and I imagined Ella finding her love. She would dance and laugh with him until the night ended. As I came back to the ball from my fantasy, I saw the most beautiful lady ever had. Her golden hair was pulled up, and her yellow dress made her glow. The mystery girl fluttered down the staircase to the prince, and seized his attention. Anastasia and I observed as he danced with her until, pulling away from his arms, she began running out of the ballroom and through the door. I saw the prince follow her; when he returned, he did not want to dance with Anastasia or any other girl the rest of the night.
When we returned home, Cinderella was there to greet us with a smile which was unusual considering the circumstances. As she helped Anastasia out of the carriage, Ella asked, “Where is your shoe?” Anastasia was confused, had she lost her shoe? She dismissed this as a misfortune until word came that the prince’s servants were on their way to our home. Anastasia was truly ecstatic. Had the prince chosen her as his bride? When they arrived Anastasia took the shoe they carried and tried to pull it on, confident at first but soon broke down in tears. This shoe was not hers. Cinderella stormed down the stairs, and slipped the shoe right on. Prince Henry came quickly to our home and proposed to Ella. Soon after their wedding Anastasia and I were sent to work as farmhands in the royal garden and learned that Cinderella had told Henry a dreadful story of my evils. The prince was so enraged, he published Cinderella’s story as a warning of cruelty to the world. We never see Ella, and Drizella married and lives in a nearby town. So now do you see I am innocent of the deeds I have been convicted of? I cannot change the past, but I have peace now. The truth has been spoken, and someone knows the real story.