Glass | Teen Ink


October 19, 2022
By Anonymous

Author's note:

I'm a senior in high school and plan to major in psychology next year.

What was the difference between skin and glass? Some would claim they were one and the same. The want-the need to find the difference became unfathomable, needing to combine them.


The clack of my boot heels echoed throughout the walls as I walked down the corridors. I looked across the hall, the moonlight hitting every fraction of the mirror delicately hanging on the wall. In the reflection, I see the darkest shadow of myself. Behind me lies the cone of light streaming through the crack in the door. Her door. I turn around ever so carefully, not to disturb her slumber. 

I peek my tall frame in, watching. She lies on her bed, the night light next to her. I smile slightly, thinking about the lamp, for she could never sleep without that thing. Not after she got away from that hell hole. I swore to protect her. Always. That is why I must do this. For us. For her.

I watch her. The steady breaths ease my stiff body. I sat down on the soft bed: her back turned to me. I touch her hair gingerly, not wishing to disturb her. I reached down and opened the drawer to her nightstand which held the lamp above it. The drawer squeaked when I gently pulled on it. I quickly turned back to her. She shuffled around then fell back into place. I turned back to my work, careful not to pull too hard. I feel around the compartment, looking for something. I grimaced as my finger graced over something sharp. 

I look down, the lamp's light reflecting off of the letter opener in the drawer. I pull it out and twirl it in my fingers, sizing up its weight. As I go to push the drawback in, blade still in hand, an envelope slips out, falling to the cold floor. I reach down to pick it up and as I do this the bed springs stretch, she stirs. I slam the draw closed, too hard, the lamp falling in slow motion. It breaks on the floor and the unopened envelope bursts into flames. 

I rush out of the room, opener in hand. I press against the wall outside Cinderella's room. I hold my breath as she calls out.

“Hello? Guards!..... Damnit!” she screams.

I smile and speedily walk back down the stairs and back into my quarters as the guards rush into her room. I sit on the back of my door, contemplating what I should do. How I should move forward from this. That envelope was proof. Yes. My dearest has gotten away from me. Why else would she go outside to see the other men? No. Not again. Never. 


The following morning I awoke from a restless night. Nothing but me and the voices. The truth-tellers. They tell me-no-show me that Cindi is unfaithful. I will not condemn her, I only wish her to find understanding. Peace. With me.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I panic, dropping the envelope opener on the carpet, making a muffled thud. 

“Yes?” I ask, secretly hoping there will be no reply. Waiting. My prayers have been answered! No reply. Wait. Why would somebody knock on the Prince's door, expecting an answer, and yet when they receive one, not give one in return? I grab her blade off of the wool floor and walk cautiously to the door. As I slowly open the wooden door, my blade clatters to the floor once more.

No one was there. Instead, two sets of footprints, still imprinted into the carpet, followed outside the door. My breath hitched, I knew that set. Hers. I would recognize them anywhere. The right heel slightly pressed further than the left. But why? I examine the other pair of prints. Faded. Who? It doesn't matter. He thinks of stealing her away from me. Of ripping her out of my hands, my house, my heart. He would not succeed. Never.

I followed the footprints, eyes glued to the betraying proof. Suddenly I stumbled over the piece of wood that separates rooms in the castle. I looked up, surprised and perplexed by the fact that I was in the royal dining area. Out of the corner of my tear-stained eyes, I see her. In the same nightgown I had seen her in the night before, ashes sprinkled on the bottom of the fabric. I sat across from her, not making eye contact.

“Hello darling, I hope you slept well. Did the servants tell you about the fire last night?” She pondered.

I sat down across from her, speechless. She stared at me, waiting for a reply. I nodded wordlessly. How could she act so camly when she was just with another man? Wait. She probably doesn't want to be with him. How could she? She was mine. No one else's.

I ate in silence. Cindi kept trying to have me open up, yet I could not. She could not possibly have figured out what the man was trying to accomplish. She was not smart enough, she probably thought of him as a friend. Not the villain. I needed to protect her. To save her, because she was mine. Forever.

I ate in silence. Thinking about our first night. When she walked down those stairs to the ballroom, my heart stopped. The baby blue gown niping the floor. So much beauty in such a woman was unfathomable. At the moment I thought I liked it when the other gentlemen looked at her, for she will always and forever be only mine. Now. Now I do not feel the same. Only my eyes should be able to graze over her body, picturing the nightgown sliding down a little further, or just ripping it off her frame completely. 

He probably thinks of that too. The man doesn’t deserve to bathe in the same light as her. She is my prize, rightfully mine. I look up as she passed her empty plate to the servant. Cindi comes around the table, kisses me on the forehead, and makes her way to her room.


Now. I take the blade that was once my ticket to proof of her unfaithfulness and put it in my front right pocket, the blade almost poking through. I left my shoes in my room, I did not need them. I made my way to the hall, the cold floors tickling the nerves on my bare feet. I went up the stairs, slowly, eagerly. I would finally catch her tonight. Then, and only then, would she finally be mine.

As I approached her room I saw him. A young handsome servant left her quarters carrying her favorite tea. He must have poisoned it! I rush up to the man from behind, take out Cinderella's small blade and slice it across the servant's neck. The blood stained my hands while he let out a muffled scream and fell to the floor. The peasants' blood dripped down between my toes. I look down at the crumbled man, who used to stand so tall, and smiled. He would never have her. His vile tricks would not work on her. She was mine.

I step back, admiring the mess I made. Squeak. Oh no. I rush around and saw her new lamp in the crack in the doorway. I hastily walk in and while she is standing, the poor girl is shaking terribly. He must have hurt her.

“Dearest, did he touch you?” I question her. She slowly backs away slowly. Away. Away from me. “Lovely come here. He can not hurt you now. You’re safe from him. You can be with me.” I promise. She stops. Cindi must have come to her senses. Then she darts.

I grab her before she makes it out the door. She looks up at me, petrified. I swiftly kick her legs out from under her. I lift her over my shoulder. While I carry her to her bed she reaches back behind me, giving me a hug. I feel a shift in my pockets. No.

Darkness flashes around me and I fall, dropping her. As I gain my sight back, I try to stand, but pain ripped from my left shoulder blade. I stare at her, the bloody blade in her hands, pointing at me. “You don’t have to be afraid, Cinidi.”, I pushed out. 

“You killed that poor servant! In front of me! Who even are you? You are not the man I married!” She screamed at me. Her eyes look around the room searching for something. 

Wait. I look at the knife, blood dripping and hitting the floor, it now had me and the traders blood on it. We mixed blood. Was I just another man to her? Did she even love me? I stood up, a newfound strength surged through me. I walked towards her, not even totsing the pain in my back. She fell back against a wall, knife clattering down to the carpet. I pick her up, staring at her betraying face, and throw her against the wall. I pick up her leg and drag her to the bed. I tie the sheets to her limbs and head to the closet.

I pick up an extra blanket: blue. Her blue. I walk back to where she lay, fainted, and tuck her in with the blanket. I step back and memories of her in that dress flood back. I clench my fits, thinking of the men who turned their heads. 

Her eyes flash open, and I panic. I turn back to the closet and something catches my eye. Glass. The glass heel hidden in the back of the closet. The lamp that she needs has given away her secret possession. I stalk to the closet and stumble. The pain is coming back. A faint cry for cry can be heard behind me. She's awake. I grab the glass slipper, the ones from my memories. And trudge back to my princess.

“You monster! How could you do this to me? I thought you loved me!” She depertaily pleads with me. Her tricks would not work on me. Not anymore.

“Deares- no. You betrayed me” I pin at her, her face confused. “You know well what I am referring to. You can not lie to me any longer.”

I slammed the glass slipper on the lampstand and the glass shadders everywhere. I do not mind the pain. I rather enjoy it. It is my fuel now. I stand over her, dominate in every way. She never loved me. She only wanted my crown, to get away from that place. So I gave her a crown. I dragged the remains of her glass slipper over her forehead, the very same forehead that I kissed at night. Her screams filled the room. Delightful. I soaked up the pleas for life like I was a sponge. I went farther down. Dragging and digging the glass down a trail of kisses. She was no longer screaming, for she had no lips. Blood covered every part of her body where I had laid my hands. She was no more. She was safe now. No man would ever look at her the same. 

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.


Similar books


This book has 0 comments.