Sister of Cinderella-2

The birch tree towered across the undulating plains as I counted the seconds to dusk.

It was a rather beautiful evening and in the cold, barren lands of my step-father's run down manor, a beautiful twilight was rare. Days were cold where hard, stinging wind whirled with gusto, rendering any possible outdoor activities useless. Nights were worse with sleet and smog, constant acrid puffs from the fireplace and prickly dinners.

The sun gleamed miserably, last rays of fiery red light disappearing among sky's ravenous abyss, a dark navy swallowing light away and whisking people into a long arduous night. I hate darkness, it reminds of the time when was playing hide and seek and had gotten trapped in the cupboard, with whiskery spiders grazing and fluttering up my arms. 

The distance between dusk and night was seconds, and soon everything was black. I turned back towards the jostling, weepy, light filled manor that I had slowly learned to call home, with dread. 

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"Where's Dad?" Maya asked with a naive, innocent tilt of her head. I almost believed her. Almost.

Ella flung another set of dishes on the basin, while mum dried them with a tablecloth. I stacked them in drawers with a sneer and a clang. How we had fallen! From having hundred of maids doing every minuscule, infinitesimal job like picking nails and noses and trimming lawns to being maids ourselves.

"Business expedition, dear. I told you yesterday and last week too." Mother said, with an exasperated, resigned sigh. Maya gave a remorseful apology, but I knew she was secretly enjoying Mum's annoyed state of mind. I admit, it was not common to see Mother in a disposition and demeanor other than pristine and peaceful and calm. Ella sniffled and I saw Mother clench the plate tighter, her veins bulging and nails cracking. Ella's beautiful blonde hair hung in cascading waves as she tried her best to stop crying. 

I wondered if she would stop being a loathsome crybaby if I hit her in the head with a plate. I called her a hateful spoilt brat once. When she was crying that her father had gone away once again. She sobbed harder. I explained that it was step father's job to travel. She didn't understand.

Of course she didn't. 

As I was pondering the feasibility of punching one's sister in the face, the bell rang with a sharp, painful ding. Maya threw away her mop and rushed towards the door to answer, shrugging off her responsibilities.

My frown deepened when I heard Maya scream.

"It's the Prince!" she shouted and Ella, too ran off to meet her star crossed lover, while I groaned and exchanged a look with Mother.

Not Again.