A Reverse Cinderella Story

Once upon a time, in a small town in England, a small boy and his mother walked along the river side. It was a foggy morning, and felt a s if the air was made of molasses. Their black clothes fit perfectly into the dreariness of it all. This was no ordinary morning stroll. This was a funeral march. Earlier that week the young boy’s father had died of what seemed to be a heart attack. They had buried him that day in the grave yard of their church. In the distance the boy could hear the bells ringing as he buried his head into the folds of his mothers skirt.

Many years after, his mother remarried to a man who was handsome enough, but with the personality of a viper. With him, he brought two sons who were twice as vicious as their father. For the first year they were mean to the boy, but not cruel. As soon as they were settled in the torture started. They forced him out of his room, confiscated all his clothing and made him clean from morning till night. By the end of the first month of this his hands were covered in blisters and calluses, his face sooty from sleeping in the fireplace, and his shoulders and head hung like a puppet’s. Because of his sooty, dirty exterior they named him Dusty.

Over the next few years Dusty grew wearier and wearier. His hands so dry and cracked, they bled every night. While his step brothers lived in luxury, he was known only as their slave and servant. The brothers were relaxing in the parlor pelting Dusty with the shells of their nuts and screaming at him to clean them up. There was a sharp knock on the door.

“Dusty, get it you maggot!” Shouted the eldest brother sneering nastily.

Dusty got up, used to this kind of treatment, was just glad that there was no physical punishment. Following this thought was a sharp kick to his leg. His eyes welt with tears as he went, unspeaking to the door. Slowly he opened the heavy wood to reveal a man dressed head to toe in a deep purple velvet.

“He must be part of the royal court.” thought Dusty.

“Hello, I come bearing an invitation to the royal ball tomorrow for all young male suitors. The Princess Ella must choose a man to marry.” Announced the man in an unusually high pitched voice.

At that very moment the brothers had heard what was going on and sprinted towards the door.

“The Princess? Marry? Dusty you fool give that to me.” Said the youngest as he slammed the door in the man’s face.

Dusty handed it over, and walked sadly back to the kitchen as the brothers talked of the suits they would buy and the gold cufflinks they would need to impress the princess. Dusty knew he would not be able to go, but he decided to try any way.

That night after he had cleared the plates from the table he cornered