Sleep

Cinderella

When will today end. I patched up a red dress for Anastasia, because I have never sewn a dress before, and I kept drawing blood. Every minute, it seems, I get poked with a needle. I feel like I'm sewing me more than the dress. Her dress had a huge tear, and the edges frayed, the gauze's vibrant red color fading. I have to dye and sew the dress, so my fingers are red from dye and blood. But in late afternoon, I finish Anastasia's dress, along with Druzella's, which was a vibrant flashy purple, with rounded cuff-sleeves.

There's a knock at the door at dinner. Opening the door, I see a very strange looking man. He has a reddish mustache that flourishes over his face, covering his mouth and cheeks, he's dressed like a golfer, with a plaid sweater vest, and giant clunkers. I mean giant clunkers. Bigger than a clown's shoes, three times as big and tan with rusty gold buckles. The fedora he wears is bigger than both his shoes combined, so you can't see his eyes. He clears his throat and wrinkles his nose, as if a fly landed on it.

"Hello, Jeanne," the man said to me. I winced at my actual first name, I haven't heard it in a while, it almost seemed scary.

"Who are you?" I say cautiously, regarding his left hand reaching to his back pocket.

"Oh, that doesn't matter, dear, come with me for a stroll, it won't be long."

I stupidly decided to follow. Maybe I could solve a few mysteries.

He walked out onto the stone court yard, and went behind some topiary. Looking around, I realized, I was out of sight and earshot with anyone else. He turned toward me and held out his hand to shake. When he shook my hand, I felt a weakening, like my head was briefly hollowed. He muttered a few words about power and elements that I didn't catch. He touched my shoulder, and I felt the weakening force again. He breathed in satisfied. Turning on me, he then lunged.

I don't know how, but I sidestepped him with ease, and all hell in me blasted out in a column of fire.

"I knew it! I have found it!" He muttered loudly. I really didn't like being called an it. Turning me by my shoulders he gave a wicked grin, which could mean nothing good. With his left hand he took out a silvery necklace, and his right, he took off his hat. Then, he took off his face. Or, he took off his mask. His real face was ordinary, he was young, with brown hair, and green eyes, a scar on his right arm. He grinned in a friendly state, and held up the necklace.

"When I touched thou, thou felt a weakening?" He asked.

"Uh, pardon?"

"When I touched you, did you feel a weakening?" He repeated.

"Yes," I said.

"It is because of this necklace. It is called the necklace of distress," he held up the silvery necklace.

" before you ask any further questions, who are you?" I asked.

"I, am Phillip. "

Phillip pulls out a silver locket, shaped like a large circle. Inside, there's a picture of two very young girls, both have identical white-gold locks, and similar facial features; bronze eyes, dimples in their smiles, the same noses. Then I realize they are too familiar. One of the girls is me, I'm positive.

"I'm guessing you know who one of the girls is. You, are the one on the left. The girl one the right is your sister. Well, your twin. You two are destined to meet very soon, after all, you are now eighteen, the proper age," Phillip said, closing the locket.

I was too stunned. There was no way I had a sister, and yet, all the proof was here.

"Where would I even meet her? How can I trust you? How did you find this out? How did you find me?" I asked alarmed.

"You can trust me, you just can. I have been searching for people for many years, special people like you. You know how that fire sprouted out of your hand?" He glanced at a pocket watch and looked alarmed. "Oh dear, I must go."

"Wait," I gripped his arm. "Where would I meet my sister?" I say fiercely, tightening my grip.

"Dear, you must go to the ball," he said, disappearing into the courtyard mist.