It fit.

The shoe fit her.

Why? Why did it have to fit her?

She had beauty, she had kindness, she had talent, she had EVERYTHING. I do admit Mother had been hard on my little step-sister, but hello! Survival of the fittest! My life had been perfect until she came along. Until dad died. Until Mother remarried that man. Until that girl smiled at me. 

I was born as the youngest daughter to the Penhale family. My older sister, Josephine Drizella Penhale, my Mother, Madonna Penhale, and my Dad, Charles Penhale.

Life had been a perfect fairytale. Dad worked throughout the day as a carpenter, while Mother earned extra money as a tailor. Drizella always looked down on me, but still we looked out for each other. 

Dad and I were close. So close there would be times you would never see us apart. We went everywhere together.

And I was happy.

Life was… difficult at times. Money would get tight, Drizella and I got in a fight, I was called ‘Big Foot’ at school just because my feet were “above average”. However I didn’t care. Life was still perfect. Then came the flu. Taking my father along with her mother. 

And I became Borlewen Anastasia Tremaine. Yes I know, my first name is horrible. There’s a reason Drizella and I went by our middle names. 

But when I first met Miss Ella Jowena Tremaine, my heart turned cold. It was her fault that my fairy tale was gone.

Right away we didn’t get along. She stayed right behind her father everywhere he went, getting showered with presents by his merchant money. The king and his little princess, shoving the queen and her daughters aside. Their bond stabbed into me like a trap, no matter how hard I twisted to ignore them, they were there.

He never cast a glance at me, not like Dad did. So when he also passed from the flu, I watched Ella shudder with sobs emotionlessly.

Mother took control of the household right away, trying to rebuild what had been lost at the beginning. 

She showered us with presents and sent Ella away from us. We were like princesses! This time we were the ones showered in a rain of gifts and dolls, not Ella. We were the ones with the fancy clothes! We were the ones who had more. 

Yet… 

Mother still never looked at me and Drizella quite like how she used to. Instead, she watched Ella. 

She grew obsessed over Ella. It was negative attention I know, but growing up and hearing Ella’s name be called instead of mine;

it shattered me like glass. 

At one point I remember trying to be nice to Ella. Comforting her when she was alone, sewing little dresses with her for who knows what, dusting the ashes from her face when she fell asleep by the fire. I had grown fond of her, Drizella did too! Until the shoes came. 

She received a gift stowed away by her father for her twelfth birthday. I admit I was slightly jealous, but she deserved it. I know I would want her to be happy for me if I got a gift from my Dad. Her face lit up before I saw the gift, happiness was so clear upon her that it just might spread to me too when I saw them. 

And there they were. A perfect pair of shoes. Small in size, but nonetheless quite in touch with today’s youth fashion. 

She wore them everywhere. Showing them off. Keeping them clean. Putting them on such a display she might as well have just told me that my Dad was dead, and gone. 

Even after Step-father Tremaine had passed, he still showered her with gift upon gift upon gift upon gift-

I snapped. 

My relationship with Ella had been flicked away as if by magic. Mother noticed then. Not when Dad’s death day came around. Not when Drizella lost her first tooth. Not even when I found a kitten outside. But when Ella was happy and I stood beside her, only then was I seen. 

I got to keep Lucifer, he kept the mice away. I was frightened of the little things, even Lucifer a little bit. Mother continued to shower Drizella and I with gifts. It was a competition between her and Ella of who would have more happiness. It could have been perfect and I could have been happy. 

When Mother bought the shoes. 

I burned them all eventually. The pain of trying to shove my foot into Ella sized heels had ruined it all. The humiliation, the comparison, and Ella.

I had just gotten back from my father’s grave and there she was. In my shoes. A smile on her face. The tears on my face were the only things moving. Her mouth moved and her brow scrunched together and she reached out her hand but time had stopped. The grand clock in the hall stuck twelve and I screamed. Lunging for Ella I ripped the shoes from her feet. They were mine, they were mine. 

The love should’ve been mine, Dad should’ve been alive, the gifts, the attention, the shoes, mine, mine, mine, mine!

I went to bed that night with a black eye. Ella has a pretty good swing for such a small girl. However, I had given her a bloody nose, so that evened things out. 

We continued to grow up and further apart. At the age of eighteen, I had grown to be quite lovely. Regardless though, Ella truly blossomed into adulthood. She drew all the attention away from me and Drizella, and we began to be called Ella's Ugly Step-Sisters.

The amount of things I owned was unbearable, I had Ella cleaning my room many times in one day. Yet the happiness was still gone. I had decided it was because of Miss Ella Jowena Tremaine, who I now labeled as Cinderella. I didn’t wipe the soot away from her eyes anymore when she fell asleep by the fire. She had taken away my fairytale life to make her own. 

She was selfish, and spoiled, and breathtaking. Her beauty. Her grace. Her kindness despite all I had done. It was tormenting really. Many times I considered reaching out to her and having a better relationship. However, I was always swayed away when another gift from Step-father came. 

Drizella had become like Mother; obsessed with what Ella had that she didn’t. Obsessed with everything she had except a sister. Ella didn’t have one of those by blood. Not that it mattered much to Drizella though. She had grown addicted to short term happiness as Mother had. While I had been left alone.

When the invitation for the ball arrived, it was as if happiness had come to my doorstep. I was so close. 

I had a reason to keep going.

Arriving at the ball had been easy, but forgetting about ripping apart Ella’s dress was not. Her tears had sparked a guilt I had felt a long time ago, but had shoved down, buried underneath “gifts” from Mother. Meaningless junk that encased my heart. Worthless trash that drowned out any happiness I could have had. 

Meeting the prince wasn’t what I hoped for. I hadn’t given the best impression and he left as soon as she came. A dazzling beauty that seemed so familiar that I couldn’t remember who she was. 

Boy do I recognize her looking back now. 

Happiness could have been mine if I had let her go. If I hadn’t been guilty about her. If I hadn’t been angry with her. If I hadn’t been thinking about her. 

When the shoe arrived at the house I knew it wouldn’t fit. Happiness seemed so close though, and I tried it on anyway. Maybe by some miracle it would-

It fit her. 

Of course the shoe fit her.