Cinderella’s ball was everything she wanted.
And yet she begged for it to be over.
Sweat beads down her neck, 
and her sides cramp with every breath.
She dances around the ball room in her bloody heels.
“Please.” She whispers hoarsely.
The prince smiled at her with white pearls, paying no mind to her disheveled state or what she said.
They continued to waltz all over the castle with her begging.
Just until the clock strikes twelve, she thought.
And how right she was,
because deals with the devil always comes with a price.
And so she danced her life away,
until she dropped at midnight.