Once Upon a Dream

She stares at the at the wax paper, sealed delicately by a red stamp. Cinderella glances over each shoulder cautiously before breaking the seal of the letter in her hand.

'I invite you on behalf of the prince to join us for the royal ball'

The girl allows herself a moment of happiness, twirling round and round smiling merrily, blonde hair thrown out behind her. She's spinning, practicing her movements with a nearby broom, though old and worn still serving as a suitable partner. Dust imitates surrounding ball gowns as it's thrown up in the air by graceful sweeping movements. Her laughter dies in her throat as she catches sight of herself in the mirror. Her rags masking what's underneath. She approached her own reflection with slight fear, as if what she's staring at isn't her. She frantically pulls at her face trying to smooth out the rounded edges of her cheeks and chin. She turns to one side, slowly smoothing down the front of her apron, frowning at her rounded stomach. Flailing her arms out in desperation she notices that they wobble ever so slightly. She's disgusted. But not for long as she's not allowed the moment 'CINDERELLA! GET UP HERE GIRL' picking up her skirts she runs up the cellar stairs, hating how she feels the fat around her thighs making​ itself noticed.

The weeks go by and she's determined to go to the ball. She's skipping meals, three of them a day. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. Her stepsisters and stepmother don't notice. Of course they couldn't care less, too busy about themselves to notice the small paling service girl. They fuss about their hair, their shoes, their faces. 'Pull it a little tighter Anastasia',

'A little more blush Drizella'

The next time Cinderella looks in the mirror her face is sunken and ghostly white. Her collar bones​ are jagged and sharp, poking at flesh that seems to have deteriorated. She can see her ribs and the way her heart palpitates quickly, she should be worried but she marvels at this fact, casting her smiling gaze upon her fairygod mother behind her. Alas she is a shining princess, glowing with happiness, riding to the ball in her ringing carriage.

The prince is dancing with her smiling, hands gripping her minute waist. It's so surreal, but the beeping in the distance is even more real. The clocks are chiming their way to midnight. So she runs as fast as she can out of the ball, away from the fantasy of the evening. Leaving only behind one glass slipper. But no mater how hard, how far he searches the prince will never find his princess. She is lost in the forest. Passed out on the floor, unable to breathe. She's convinced that it's the dress, pulled way too tight, but no, it's her own ribs weighing down, heavily crushing her lungs. Then her fairy godmother is here. No longer waving her hands in magical grace, but instead in frantic movements. The ringing of her carriage is accompanied by red flashing light and her ball gown is a loose fitting, short and clean piece of polyester.

And as the princess awakes from her fantasy a voice is there in the room

'excuse me miss, do you remember anything, you're in the hospital'

A princess who never found her prince charming.