Cinderella and The Shape Shifting Mice

(Thank you to @VHThompson for the beautiful new cover!)

I ran down the dusty hallway impatiently pushing cobwebs out of my way as I made my way to my fathers bedroom. A storm brewed outside the mansion as I pushed open the bedroom door and almost collapsed in sorrow.

His face was a sickly pale hue, and he was just skin and bones under his silk pajamas and 800 count thread sheets. He managed a smile though when I came in, and hacked violently.

"Come here my darling Ella." He tried to raise his hand but my stepmother lowered it.

She was the same age my father, 42, with two twin daughters of her own, Anastasia and Drizella Tremaine. They were my age, 13, and absolutely beautiful. Anastasia had long, curly, red hair and bright green eyes and a very good posture. Drizella was a little more plane, but still had the features of early beauty; dark brown hair the curled elegantly around her face and large, dark brown eyes. Whenever they went down to the village, all the people starred and the village boys chased them in the car. They thrives on the attention and did anything they could to keep it on them all the time.

My stepsisters stood off to the side, faces still, not moving. I ran to my fathers bedside and collapsed onto my knees. He brushed back my golden blonde hair with a shaky hand and smiled feebly at me.

"My darling Ella, have I ever told you how much you looked like your mother?" he coughed for a second, but smiled.

"Yes papa, many times." I sniffled.

"Your hair, those blue eyes, every little bit of you darling." He touched my nose playfully and I smiled at him. "But I don't want you to fret for me, for I wont be alone up there."

The first tear spilled over onto my cheek. "Don't talk like that papa! You're going to be fine." I squeezed his hand and he winced slightly. We both knew it was a lie, but I couldn't loose him.

"I love you Ell." he looked at my stepmother and stepsisters. "I love you Mary, Drizella, and Anastasia." A tear fell from each other their faces, down the right cheek, almost in unison. They wiped it away with a handkerchief, each one embroidered by me with their initials. It had been a gift when they first moved in.

He sighed and closed his eyes. His heaving chest slowed down until it wasn't moving at all.

"No!" I screamed, "Papa you have to wake up! Papa!" Tears streamed down my face. I felt a hand on my shoulder and saw my stepmother with a pinched expression as she looked down at her dead husband.

"Come Ella, go fetch the coroner. Your father is gone." She said softly.

I gasped out air as I made my way slowly down the hallway.

My papa was dead.

I was alone with that... woman and her daughters now until who knows when.

What was going to happen to me?