I stare into the mirror in shock. I haven't aged. I look the same as yesterday - around ninety. It was a shock, to wake up two days ago and realise that I couldn't walk more than a few steps without a cane. I know that death's close - I just have to wait. Except that I'm no older. Perhaps - finally - it's over. That's what wanted, isn't it? For all this to be over, to go away like a bad dream. Except it's not all over. I'm still old, still locked away. Maybe death would have been easier.
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General FictionCinderella with a twist. Encrypted because nothing is as it seems. All images, unless otherwise specified, are off Google or Pinterest.
