Cinderfella to Cinderella

Narrator's POV

Once upon a time, there lived a small business owner named Francis who lived with his wife, Eloise.  He was a hardworking man, often leaving home for work, but when he would return, the house would be filled with happiness.

And that happiness grew upon the birth of their first child; a son named Ethan.  He had big blue eyes and beautiful soft blond hair, making him look exactly like a doll.  Needless to say both parents adored him.

As time went on, Francis found his fortune increasing as his company became bigger and bigger.  The family moved out of their modest home into a small mansion outside of the city, where the three would enjoy themselves.

But tragedy struck when Ethan was but 8 years old; his mother grew very, very sick, and passed from the world, leaving Ethan's father in deep mourning.

Ethan grew lonely as his father busied himself with work in order to try and forget the pain of losing his beloved wife.  Eventually, this led to Francis marrying a wealthy widow who ran a good company, allowing the two to merge into one larger company.

"Ethan,"  His father had said to a 10 year old Ethan.  "This will be your new mother,"  He said, introducing her to the stern older woman.  Her lips remained a tight line as she stared down at the boy.

"And these will be your new step sisters,"  Ethan's father said.  "Meet Bianca and Portia,"  He said, motioning to two brunets, both of whom shared their mother's upturned nose.

"Together we will be a new family,"  Ethan's father declared.  Ethan nodded.

"I want to try to be happy,"  He thought to himself.

And things were, for the most part, okay.  His step mother and father were both busy with work and travel, leaving Ethan relieved that he would not have to deal with his step mother's severe looks.  As for his sisters, their mother had enrolled them in so many classes to make them proper ladies that Ethan, once more, found himself rather alone.

Time went on, as it always does, the bad natures of Ethan's sisters manifested themselves as they grew, with permanent sneers stuck on their faces as they seemed to fail at everything they ought to learn, whether it was music or embroidery.

Ethan, however, had grown to become quite a handsome fellow with a slim, graceful figure.  He grew his soft hair long, tying it back with ribbons, and spent his days often working with his sisters in the classes they failed, excelling at them.  This frustrated his sisters and his step mother to no end.

It was unsurprising that their rage would manifest itself as abuse, whether it was beatings or starvation.  Ethan had hoped his father would do something but could never bring himself to tell the poor man what was really going on.

His father became busier and busier, causing him to be home less and less.  By the time Ethan was 16, his father would only come home perhaps 3 or 4 times a year, each time looking more and more weary.

Naturally, by the time Ethan was but 18 years of age, he was depressed.  All he wanted was to be loved and be himself.  Or rather, herself.

One day, when forced to clean the attic, Ethan had discovered one of his mother's old dresses.  He walked over to a dusty mirror and looked into it, holding his breathe at how beautiful the dress looked against him.

Quietly looking around, Ethan checked to make sure no one was there in the attic before trying on the dress.

If anything in the world felt so right, it would be that moment when Ethan looked in the mirror, untying his ribbon to let his long hair go.  Had he not known it, he would think he was seeing a beautiful girl.