Cinderella's Diary

FOURTEEN

FOURTEEN (Day 3) 

            “Are your things ready Ella?”

“Yeah,” I called weakly from my side of the bed. Charles had finally taken that most needed shower “Shall I fix your things now too?” 

            He seemed to think on that. “No, you don’t have to…I can do it.”

            Still, I decided that doing so was for the best. I’ve learned a thing or two in folding clothes from my friends and the house-help at home. The sleeves usually went in the inner side toward the center—then folded in half and finally rolled up to save up space. My ankle was a bit better, but not quite well. Moving it around in anyway hurt. I winced and shut an eye every time. Dragging my left ankle against the floor as I reached for our bags and neatly placed each of our clothes back in. The same with the sheets of our bed, all made, clean and wrinkle-free…sometimes, cleaning, was good for the mind.

            It pushed other thoughts in the back of my mind. Today was supposed to be a significantly happier for me than the rest. It was my twentieth-eight birthday. Not that I fancied getting any older—or whatnot—but I normally spent it with the children. Buying them some food, or taking them out in the park, this was the only time I did something different. I never liked celebrating my birthday and only a few people knew when it was. Marian usually came to surprise me with a red ribbon chocolate mousse [the only chocolate cake I would ever eat, I didn’t like chocolate], or Sans Rival from purple oven [any other would only get looked at by me then quickly forgotten], and finally, the famous blueberry or strawberry cheesecake from either Starbucks, Cheesecake Melliza or imported ones.

            Thinking about cake made me shake my head. Only Marian troubled herself over such details with a single, small, pink candle at the middle. I imagine her wish for me—would be to find a lifetime partner. It was always the same one every year. I’d tire of coming up with any other over the years. But, I guess…my personal, one true wish was…

…really to become…a…

            “Ella,” said Charles as he stepped out of the bathroom. The door was slightly placed in an awkward angle that hardly closed. So, when it was my turn, Charles had to carry it right down the middle. It was sort of funny and good to watch. The way he sweated and snarled at the infernal door—but placed it right back in its proper place. At first, the owner’s face contorted in anger. His nostrils flaming and flaring in absolute distaste for our lack of finesse in keeping his property intact. But after seeing what Charles was willing to pay for it, let’s just say his eyes twinkled like stars in the night. I don’t think Mr. Sytengco bargained the same price for it. He must have added extra, extra to it. It wasn’t really a problem. It scarcely burned a hole in either his pocket or mine. Although the unspoken rule of this trip was that he had to pay for everything.

            Even if I had money to spare, I never paid for a guy. I’m a conservative traditionalist for the most part. Water ran down my hair and flattened it on my face. In the water, it went far past my waist. I always adored long hair in women. That was just my sense of style. Simple, elegant and classy—just the way I like it. Everything was of this principle: my clothes were simple but they were branded and very expensive. Only the ones with keen eye and experienced in apparel would notice. Though, I’ve been told quite several times—that it’s in the manner you wear and carry it—I always liked them expensive. It went without saying—I held the same preference for everything. It’s just the way I am. In my defense, one would never find me splurging money senseless. My trust funds were more than what was allowed in a loan. No one ever knew this. I had a visa credit card from Chase but never used it. I only used credit cards when I took vacations abroad. In the Philippines, it was non-existent to me.