Cinderella: Pandemic Remix / Gabi Dias

Cinderella: Pandemic Remix

by Gabi Dias, age 12

A sudden cold hit me like a shot. Sudden and quick, my knee stumbled, and I immediately woke up. My stepsister had opened the freezer door as I fell asleep next to it. “Cinder.” She glared at me. “Yes, ma’am,” I responded, trying to bow, but, as I was sitting down, it looked as if I was just slowly nodding my head. Bridget, my stepsister, shook her head, slammed the freezer door, and left. After she slammed the door, it didn’t close immediately. It just swung for a bit until it came crashing toward me, slamming into my eye. “Stupid Bridget,” I mumbled, ironically getting an ice pack from the freezer. I pushed it against my eye til the cold compress caused the blood clot to slow, and the bruising went down. I stood up, and for a split second I looked around, hoping I would be in my house, but now, since the accident, we have all been hidden in an underground bunker. I walked over to my sister’s room. First I went to Violet’s room, as she had always been the nicer one. I cleaned up her room and left a small Post-it note on her desk that said, “Bridget hit me with the freezer! :( ” I hoped she would come back home soon and leave me another note like we did when we were kids. I reluctantly left her room, standing in the doorway for a few seconds, before irritably going to Bridget’s room. It was a mess. Clothes and papers were strewn everywhere. Her bed and desk were a pigsty and I had to clean it all before I could take a break. Mumbling words I shouldn’t repeat, I cleaned her room, then punched her pillow a bunch, and kicked her closet before leaving—it had been 45 minutes. I was late for breakfast and hurriedly put on my rag light uniform and hurried to the kitchen to start cooking. Bridget and my stepmom were already there discussing something. “How will I go to the ball during the pandemic?!” Bridget whined. I cringed at the word. A mysterious disease no one had a cure for was spreading like wildfire. So my stepmom shoved us all in the underground bunker to keep us safe. Me getting to go too was debated but they eventually let me in as long as I cleaned and didn’t take up any space. Stepmom pondered what Bridget had said for a second before stating, “You will wear a mask. It will prevent your chances of getting sick.” Eventually curiosity got the best of me. “What ball? What mask?” Bridget glared at me. “Haven’t you heard?! The Prince is having a beautiful ball and everyone is invited.” Stepmom shook her head. “Not everyone. Cinderella is not going.” Anger flushed my face, and I clenched my fists. I long to leave the bunker again. “Please, may I go?” I begged. Stepmom shook her head no and turned back to Bridget, discussing what dress she would wear. To be continued . . .

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