Midnight

One

Chapter one:

I woke early one morning before the sun had even begun to shine it's rays on the grass. The night had been too cold for me to sleep in the attic, so I had decided to sleep by the small fire in the parlor.
Fortunately, my stepmother and my stepsisters were not awake yet, they wouldn't be for a few more hours. That gave me plenty of time to start my chores and have at least some time by myself before they began to yell.

I quickly got myself up and dressed for the day in a casual blue dress and flat shoes. I braided my blonde hair and tied a cloth around it like a headband to keep the stray wisps out of my eyes.
Then I headed outside where the animals lived. I collected eggs from the chicken pens and milked the cows, making sure to talk to them quietly as I did so. I had found that they enjoyed it more if you spoke to them, sometimes I would even sing.

I hummed as I went about my morning chores and tried to ignore the chill of the morning.
When I slipped back inside, I began to prepare breakfast for the house. I boiled the eggs, made toast and tea, and prepared a plate of butter as well.

It had been almost a year since my father had passed away and since then I had learned to make what my stepmother wished for breakfast, exactly the way she said it.
Two hours later, I began to hear the first signs of movement from upstairs. And sure enough, my two stepsisters were yelling at each other before long.

"You fool, if only you would just shrivel up and disappear!"
"Why don't you, because you seem to have nothing to contribute in the world?"

I bit my lip as I listened to them and wished not for the first time that they could go just a single day without having a fight.
They stormed downstairs a few minutes later, and their mother followed shortly. They were still dressed in their nightgowns that had sequins and feathers around the cuffs and neckline. They seated themselves as I brought out the breakfast I had just made.

"Ella, what's that on your face?" My stepmother asked sharply, stopping me in my work. I looked up at her, confused.
"Madame?" I asked nervously. Anastasia spoke up, barely containing her laughter.
"It's ash from the fireplace. Why don't you sleep with the pigs, Ella if you insist on looking like one?"
I turned away and wiped my face on my white apron around my waist. My stepmother tutted at Anastasia for her harsh comment.
"I have a new name for her!" Drusella exclaimed happily. "Cinder Wench!"
"Dirty Ella!" Anastasia laughed with her sister. Drusella gave a gasp and threw her hands in the air.
"I've got it! Cinderella! That's what we'll call you!"

I let out a shaky breath, not knowing how to respond to their rude comments they made as if I wasn't in the room. My stepmother laughed cruelly.
"Oh girls, you are too clever."
I blinked and finished laying out the silverware and food as quickly as I could. But my stepmother stopped me before I was finished.
"Who's this for?" She asked, pointing to my place at the table. "Are we expecting someone?"
I gave her a small smile.
"That's my place."
"Oh it seems too much to ask of you to make breakfast, serve it, and still eat with us. Wouldn't you like to eat when all the chores are done, Ella? Or should I just call you Cinderella?"

I swallowed thickly and picked up my empty plate from my place at the table. As I turned to go back downstairs to put the dishes away, my stepmother's cruel laugh followed me. I heard it echo off the walls and almost surround me, making my throat close and my eyes water.
Tears were in my eyes as I placed the plate on the table in the kitchen. But the plate slipped and crashed to the floor, nearly missing my foot as pieces of china flew everywhere. I let out a small sob and pulled back as the dish broke. I bent down and carefully picked up the shards, trying not to cry.

When I set the broken dish back on the table, my eyes fell on a hammered bronze pot that reflected my face on its surface. My eyes were beginning to get red from my tears, and there was indeed ash on my face. I closed my eyes and hurriedly stood up, running out of the kitchen.
My only refuge from my evil family was my horse, Elspeth. My father had given her to me years and years ago and had taught me how to ride from a young age. I rode her often whenever I was able to, mostly when I could no longer stand to be around my stepmother.