The fields have been robbed of all their brightness, and the sky is a drizzly mist

grey. It makes you wish that you'd never seen such a terrible, blustery day.

Bizarre and unbearable and rainy as a page from the Genesis flood. It makes

you wish that the people would cleanse their hands of blood…

The inkwell sky flashed with lightning as a small carriage sped down an

old country back road. The wind howled like the chorus of hungry wolves through

the branches of the trees. Rain battered the Earth mercilessly, drops the size of

gold coins flattening the grass in the empty vineyard. The carriage stopped

abruptly and two figures got out. One, a tall and elderly shadow with evil eyes and

a glowing white smile. The other, a short and plump silhouette with a look of

crazed fear plastered on her face. The evil shadow dragged a third figure out of

the carriage. A glowing and innocent youth with her hands and feet bound and

her mouth gagged, crying and coughing and sputtering for air. The youth

screamed as the evil shadow dragged her out to the middle of the abandoned

field where a shovel and a predug hole were waiting for them. The plump

silhouette began to cry and plead as the evil shadow flung the youth into the hole

and began to fill it back up. Lighting lit up Madame's malicious face as she

backhanded her younger daughter across the face with the shovel she held in

her hand.

"Charlotte, you weak, stupid girl! Don't you want to marry the Prince?"

Charlotte wailed as if upon saying those words Madame had hit her again,

though she hadn't.

"No, Maman!" Charlotte cried, bile rising up in her throat. "I just want to go

home! To have things the way they were before this stupid ball! Please just let

Ella go!" For a minute Madame seemed to consider this.

"PA-EAZ! UH WONE MAWY UH PWINF!" Ella's muffled cries from inside

the hole broke the spell that sympathy had cast on Madame. She smiled madly.

"That's right, Deary, you wont marry the Prince. I'll make sure of that!"

The last thing Cinderella saw before the ashen dirt covered her face

completely was her Stepmother's evil shadow, smile glowing like a wicked moon.

In half an hour, Cinderella passed out; and by the time the palace guards found

her, it was too late.