The steaming pot whistled loudly in the kitchen, catching your attention. Quickly letting go of the knife that was cutting onions, you hurried over to the stove. In distraught, you used a bucket of water to dispense the fire beneath it. You had been too distracted with other things that you had left the porridge cooking for too long! Opening up the cover, you noticed how it was slightly burnt. Your stepmother was going to give you hell for this one.
The dreaded voice that called out that mocking nickname came just in time. "Cinder! You slow girl! Why haven't you finished cooking yet?!
You whirled yourself around to find your stepmother standing there at the doorway. Her dark, gleaming eyes stared into your soul and her small lips curled in disgust. Her long, black hair was tied into a tight bun and she was wearing a crimson dress that she no doubt spent the family's savings on. You guys weren't rich, but the members in the household often liked to think so.
"In...just a few more minutes," you softly replied, bustling back to the cutting board. A scoff could be heard behind you, followed by a loud slam on the kitchen counter. You fearfully looked over your shoulder to see that she had placed a slip of paper and coins on the counter - coins that you probably earned yourself, since it was you who had worked as well.
"After this, you will immediately head out to the market, you hear me? I need you to go buy fabric for the dresses we need for the upcoming ball. You will only be eating the leftovers once you get back. That's punishment for taking so long," she sneered. She swept out of the kitchen and you were left alone once more, your stomach dropping at the sound of that.
The grip on the knife's handle tightened and you shakily chopped the rest of the onions. Tears slid out of the corner of eyes and though you were cutting onions, that wasn't the main reason for the waterworks. Taking a few deep breaths, you thought back to your dearly beloved father that you terribly missed. Father would not have wanted your anger to take over you. Neither would it be a good idea, especially at this time, because you wished to convince your stepmother in letting you attend the ball.
This indeed did calm you down, as it always did before...but what if...it couldn't calm you down anymore? What would happen if you couldn't bottle in your emotions anymore?
Using your forearm to wipe the unwanted, salty droplets of water from your eyes, you let out a staggering breath and looked up determinedly. You were just fine. Hunger may lingered in the pits of your stomach, but you shouldn't complain when so many others had it worst than you. At least you had a roof over your head and food that kept you going. It didn't matter if you slept on the ground near the fireplace, or that you would do all the chores and pay the taxes, because you needed to stay grateful.
You finished the onions and added it into the vegetables that were frying into the pan. Mixing them well for several minutes, you finally completed the meal that Delphine - one of your stepsisters so desperately wanted.
The coins glistening in the golden sun, you reluctantly picked the pile up with your greasy hands and stuffed it into your dress's pocket. You scanned over the piece of paper and saw it was a list for the fabrics. Untying the dirty apron from behind, you slipped it off of you and hung it back on the wall. Trudging across the kitchen and into the hallway, you turned left and reached the front of the house. A closet stood there beside the stairway and you walked into it to grab your one trench coat.
Draping it over your sooted, white dress, you then slipped into your sandals. Once you looked presentable enough to appear in public, you opened the door and walked into the evening sun that was beginning to set in the distance. You needed to hurry if you wanted to be home before it gets too late. You didn't feel safe walking alone at night.
The thoughts being pushed to the back of your mind, you entered the cobblestoned roads of France. While trolleys and coaches rolled through the middle of the streets, people were walking on the sides. Joining in on the sidelines, you trekked through the view of colorful houses that stood closely to one another. Each were built in a similar fashion, with dark brown lines architecting the buildings and roofs that stretched into a triangle at the top.
It soon all faded away into a more public scene, where there stood the outdoor market you worked at and where many, many tall stores outlined the area. Passing through the crowded, sweaty bodies that blocked your path, you scanned your surroundings for your destination. You were focused too much that someone had shoved you. Losing your balance, you slipped on a pebble and slammed into another person.
"Watch it!" snarled a high pitched voice. A stout middle-aged woman with a mean-looking face was the person you had bumped into. Your heartbeat racing and the blood draining from your face, you knew you couldn't allow yourself to get into any trouble. Stepmother would kill you, for sure.
"I'm sorry!" you huffed, giving her a quick bow. Without waiting for a response, you slipped away and ignored her hollers that were directed after you. Fortunately, you were much stealthier than her, so you had managed to get away in time.
You made sure to dodge people this time, ducking beneath people's arm or sidestepping those that dawdled. As you began to wonder when this cursed store you've been looking for would come into view, you finally saw it. Jogging over to it, you saw it was a small, cozy tailor shop that sat in the corner of the entire street. Less people milled around here, which made you rather happy.
The brown building had a large glass out in front that showcased the finest ballroom dresses you've ever seen. You quickly averted your [e/c] eyes from them though, knowing that you would never have the money to buy such wants. It would be terrible to grow attach to something, only to know you would never have it.
You pushed against the glassy, cool door and the jingle of bells greeted you. Hesitantly stepping into the room that contained rolls and rolls of fabric, you anxiously pulled out the list your stepmother gave you. Someone appeared behind the counter, so you lifted your eyes up. It was an elderly man with sparkling blue eyes that hid behind spectacles. His lips stretched into a warm smile, and he beckoned you towards him.
You approached him with a nervous smile. "Hello sir, would you happen to have the fabrics on this list in stock?" You handed him the note and he peered down the writing for a few moments.
He looked back up to you and nodded kindly. "We sure do, young lady! I'll quickly head into the back room to grab them for you." Relief surged into you as you watched him disappear through the doorway on the side. You weren't going to come back home empty handed, which was the best news you've heard all day.
A few minutes passed of you just awkwardly waiting there, but when he came back, he held exactly three rolls of fabric. It was the right amount as to the list and the purple, orange-pink, and dark blue fabric looked absolutely beautiful in your eyes. Jealousy twisted in your heart when your mind imagined how the dresses would turn out to look. And you would wear none of them.
He told you the cost of the materials and you scrambled to get the coins out. It was just enough for it, so you quickly handed to him and bid him goodbye. Wrapping your arms around your new bought items, you left the building and saw that the world had grown decently dark. Frowning in worry, you began your walk home, but almost immediately, the shop besides the tailor's had something that caught your eye.
You paused and peered through the glass. Toys, toys, and more toys were being portrayed. A doll with huge green eyes and blonde curls sat in the corner. A train that weaved around a railroad wouldn't stop moving. A teddy bear stitched in multiple different types of patterns was also there. A small, flickering candle was in the center of the surface, illuminating them all with its orange light. Curiosity tickled at you and you gently pressed your fingers on the invisible wall.
You glanced behind the showcased items to see the shop rather darkly lit too. You did notice a dark figure moving in the distance...that was slowly coming closer to you. You flinched away from the glass when hazel green eyes peered out at you. It was...a young man, around your age. Curly brown locks streaked of blonde sat atop his head and he wore a tall, black top hat that seemed way too large for his small face. He tilted his head to one side and his rosy lips stretched into a grin. He was attractive...in an unnerving way.
Your face aflamed for being caught by who you assumed was the store owner, you quickly turned away and propelled your legs forward again. You kept on walking for a few minutes, before questions prodded in your mind.
That encounter was too strange for your liking. There was something different about him, but you couldn't seem to put your finger on it. It terrified you how you wished to learn more about this.
After all, curiosity killed the cat...and a poor girl named [Y/N], like you, didn't need any of that.