Once upon a time in a tiny kingdom in a faraway land a beautiful baby girl was born. The name bestowed upon her belonged to her grandmother, Ella. Ella was anything but your average child. Burn marks and bruises littered her fragile body. The mere sound of her father’s footsteps in the halls made her hysterical.
“Shh, darling, daddy is trying to make the demons inside of you go away,” he would coo to her. “The People said that this was the only way…”
The sound of her flesh sizzling against the red hot iron rod was something she would never forget. Ella’s gut wrenching screams and pleas plagued the palace day after day. Ella’s mother could no longer bear the guilt of ignoring her. On a bleak November morning Ella and her mother packed a bag to flee the kingdom. Before the sun greeted the sky, the two began to slowly creep out of the house so as not to disturb her father. Alas, the attempt was futile.
“You’re a witch… It was you who infected our daughter with the demons all along! You’re a witch! We must cleanse your filthy soul,” the father screamed.
He was a very affluent and respected man within the kingdom. His accusations against his wife of witchcraft were taken as gospel by the town’s people. A crowd of onlookers gathered at the town square to take part in the cleansing of Ella’s mother. Ella stood at the base of the stake which her mother was bound to. Her father took a lit torch and set the hay beneath her feet ablaze. The flames licked at her legs and left a trail of blisters along her fair skin. The sound of her screams were animalistic and desperate; they masked the sobbing that emanated from Ella’s mouth. The skin on her face looked like it began to melt off her skull. Her piercing eyes, wide open, seemed to peer into Ella’s soul.
The pile of ashes was all that remained of her mother. The father lifted the small child, his daughter, for the town to see as he proclaimed her soul to God. He ran his fingers through his wife’s ash and smeared it all over Ella’s face.  From then on, Ella was known to the town as Cinderella.
Cinderella’s suffering was yet to cease; the beatings were longer and the torture was more brutal than ever before. It was an endless cycle of existing from day to day until her father would venture to other kingdoms as a merchant. When he returned from one of his voyages, Cinderella knew her fate was about to change.
Her father introduced her to an older woman with an air of elegance about her. She was the mother to two other girls about Cinderella’s age. Soon, the two families were to become one.
The first weeks together were a gift sent from God. Cinderella’s father was occupied with the wedding and hadn’t laid a finger on her. However, Cinderella’s luck was about to run out. Blissfully unaware, Cinderella lay unconscious in her bed. She was jolted awake when her father sat on the bed beside her. Hand’s laden with ashes met her face with force. A broken urn lie on the ground with a golden plaque that read “Cecil” - her mother. With the ashes smudged on her face, to him she was no longer Cinderella; she was Cecil. In that instant her innocence was torn to shreds. 
In the dead of night, after the atrocity he committed against his daughter, he fled.
Cinderella’s behavior became increasingly erratic and disturbing to her Stepmother. After losing her beloved husband, she refused to lose another part of her family; she sought out medical help for Cinderella.
An elderly woman clad in a blue gown arrived promptly at the house. She was immediately escorted to the room where Cinderella was being held. The room had been torn to pieces. An overturned table kept her captive in the corner, away from them. Two wild eyes peered beyond the table at the elderly woman. Cinderella sprung up and sprinted across the room toward her.
“Fairy Godmother! We have been waiting so long for you to rescue us!” she exclaimed grasping the corpses of two rats. “Gus, Jaq and I have been hiding from the voices,” she whispered.
The old doctor nodded and told Cinderella that she was going to make it all better with a of her magic wand. She waved the syringe about in the air chanting “bippity boppity boo” before injecting Cinderella with a strong sedative. Once Cinderella was in a catatonic state, the doctor was able to pill her without any resistance.
After this incident things began looking upwards for Cinderella. She had been formally invited to the ball by his majesty himself along with many other bachelorettes.
The blue satin fabric delicately draped off her shoulders. It gave her an ethereal wave appearance of a goddess. It belonged to her mother and fit like a glove. She pranced around the room beaming with joy, but was interrupted by her Stepmother whose face contorted in confusion.
“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” her stepmother scolded. “I forbid you from attending the ball.”
Cinderella had fire burning in her eyes, this was a fury like no other. She hoisted her stepmother’s precious cat, Lucifer, into the air and threw the cat as hard as she could at her Stepmother. She lifted her dress above her ankles and marched off to the ball to meet the prince.
Once at the ball her eyes met with the prince’s; immediately she was enamored. It was almost as if a magnetic force was pulling them together. In the middle of the dance floor they met at last. The Prince’s eyes were full of awe seeing the beautiful woman that stood before him. Without a single word uttered, they both understood and danced the night away. The grand clock seemed to stare at Cinderella, warning her that she was in grave danger. All the faces around her looked inhuman. As the clock struck 12, an overwhelming sense of terror came about her. She took off without warning, leaving a glass slipper behind.
The next morning the Prince had chosen his wife, however, the only clue he had to her identity was the glass slipper left at the palace. Cinderella was overjoyed when she heard that he fell in love with her. Her sisters, on the other hand, sobbed because they were not chosen.
Guilt had overwhelmed Cinderella, she knew she had to fix what she had done. At night, before everyone retired to bed, Cinderella brewed chamomile tea for her sisters. Before delivering it to them, she slipped a few pills in the cups. In the early morning hours, Cinderella cautiously slipped into their room wielding a steel blade. She was convinced the Prince should marry one of her sisters, although, their feet were two shoe sizes bigger. The only solution to this was to operate. The blade caressed the skin ever so gently. Layers of fat were sliced off one by one. Bone crushing was music to Cinderella’s ears. After an hour of intensive surgery, Cinderella fell asleep knowing her mission was accomplished.
An ear piercing scream was heard throughout the village. It startled Cinderella awake, but right away she began overflowing with excitement to receive praise from her stepsisters. Instead, she was greeted with faces of disgust and horror. Cinderella was perplexed. Why were they angry with her? What had she done wrong? She was only trying to help.
Within mere minutes, the doctor appeared at the house once again. She swore to Cinderella that her Fairy Godmother would make it all better if she came with her.
After a long journey to an unfamiliar place, the doctor brought Cinderella to a brightly lit room with a gurney in the center. She laid down patiently while her Fairy Godmother gathered a few things. A cold sharp object was precariously placed on her tear duct. She took a small hammer and began tapping the icepick until it slowly punctured the membrane and glided through her skull with ease separating connections in the prefrontal cortex.
She tossed the white bouquet behind her and watched as many female guests fought for it. Her Prince looked on from a distance with a loving smile as she conversed happily with the guests. The wedding gown hugged her body as she glided around the dance floor. The Prince and Cinderella had finally joined together in holy matrimony. Alas, this was merely an alternate fantasy world she created in her mind. She spent years trapped in her body, her mind was shattered beyond repair. A soul so tortured could never have a happy ending.