A Drizella Story. | Teen Ink

A Drizella Story.

May 14, 2011
By icanwrite24 BRONZE, Salem, New Hampshire
icanwrite24 BRONZE, Salem, New Hampshire
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Without music, life would be a mistake.


Peering down from the top of the stairs, my heart breaks, instead of the shoe, as it pops into place on my half-sister, Drizella’s, foot. Prince Charming smiles knowingly at her from his crouched position on the thresh hold of our door. Barely a second has gone by before he says, with love in his eyes, “I knew it was you.” There doesn’t seem to be a doubt in either of there minds when he lifts her off her feet and pulls her outside, where they dance in the rain. The mud on the front patio, where the flowers bloom, destroys the bottom of Drizella dress.That dress will become mine someday, along with the rest of my ugly sisters clothes. The Prince is the only thing that I have had before either of them. He is one thing of my sisters I will not be receiving, for she will never outgrow what his money and status brings her. I see two people, who at the moment I loath, dancing in the rain. Drizella sees herself dancing with fame and wealth. They stop dancing. He grabs her hand and they half frolic over to the garden that I created. He rips up some roses, like he ripped out my heart, and hands them to her. She takes them and inhales deeply. They sit under the canopy my mother helped me build before her tragic death. The top of the canopy shields them from the rain as he pulls something out of his pocket. From where I stand looking out my window I see him open the box and get on one knee. My sister waves her hands in front of her face frantically as she blurts out a one syllable word which I presume to be, “Yes.” Prince Charming slips the ring on her finger. That ring belongs on my finger. The only similarity between Drizella and I is that we are both crying. Her tears though, are of joy. My tears are of bitter hate and sadness. For an insane moment, I honestly think if grabbing the knife I keep hidden under my bed and stabbing her in the heart, right where she stabbed me. “No” I think to myself. She will die, but not that painlessly.


The author's comments:
This is the realistic from of the infamous Cinderella Story. The harsh cruelty of the real world. A world that doesn't include fantasy or justice.

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