Alternative Cinderella: Phoebe’s story

Phoebe’s story is one of the funniest I have ever read. It’s written from the point of view of Anastasia, Cinderella’s step – sister. It also makes you feel pangs of sympathy for her and has a ending that makes you think. Enjoy!

Cinderella, unravelled

I have a reputation for being nasty. Maybe I should introduce myself; my name’s Anastasia, I’m fifteen. My father died on the 19th March 1984, I still can’t get over it. Maybe that’s why I appear mean. My new step dad’s OK, but he is a wimp. You don’t even have put up an argument with him, My other dad, that died, was tough. Anyway, here’s my story.

It all started on a grey dull Monday morning. Our Mother was screaming at Cinderella, our step-dad’s daughter, to tidy up the kitchen. I know I shouldn’t say this, but I feel sorry for Cinders, but I can’t tell Mother or Drusilla, They hate poor Cinders. Mother shouts at me all the time, but not my goofy sister, Drusilla. I think it’s because I daydream about Dad. Mother doesn’t understand. As soon as we were all dressed, we got an invite to a ball with the prince. Oh yippee, not. I’ve been to loads of these dopey balls, the prince just cringes at every girl he meets. The girl that he cringes is at the most is, guess what, me! I’m an ugly old toad, with tangly brown hair. I have around 17 warts, which all seem to have puss pouring out of them. My sister’s worse, yet she gets all the attention.

The prettiest in our family is Cinderella, she has golden long locks, beautiful blue eyes that change colour like the sea. Her skin is as smooth as creamy chocolate. Every man who sees her automatically falls in love with her. That’s why she’s not allowed to the ball, I suppose.

“ANASTASIA!” my mother screamed, she sounded like she was going to burst! “It says here that the best looks gets 1 million pounds.” She carried on, a little quieter. “Oh goodness, I really need that dosh. Oh Anastasia you will get what you want, for once!”

As the day before the ball came, every girl in the kingdom was either shopping for hideous dresses, or getting pampered by servants. But in my household, I was squeezing my mouldy, old warts. I know, I am actually making an effort! After around 4 hours, I tried to squeeze into my purple dress, its gorgeous, apparently, according to the ugly, warthog who I call my mother. It’s got around around 1 million bows and ruffles on it. Yuck! It even scares a tiger.

About seven hours later, me and my big headed sister were ready, a carriage came over to our house. We all got inside, including my Mother, boo!

As soon as I stepped into the massive ballroom, I gasped! There were beautiful chandeliers hanging from a decorated ceiling. At the far end I could see tables and tables piled high with cakes, puddings and the finest pastry in the land, Before I had the chance to stuff my face, we all had to line up. This was my chance. I pushed every girl in my path, dresses flying everywhere, showing places that no man, or thinking about it, woman would ever in their entire lives want to see. I fluttered my eyelashes, I squeezed my tummy but all he did was sigh. Grumpy old grouch.

As I turned around, a path had been formed. The woman at the end of it was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She had the most beautiful flowing dress which was a light blue colour. As she walked down the path I knew I had to move, I stumbled over my dress and knocked down every single girl. They both looked into each others eyes and smiled. Slow music started, and they did that dancing which married couples do. Vomotrocious!

The prince bent down on one knee said,

“ Will you marry me?”

“ Yes I will,” the mystery girl replied. They bent down towards each other. As the clock struck 12 she ran off. Ah,maybe now he would choose me! I crept closer behind him. As I curled my fingers around his shoulder, he turned round and legged it after that girl, I’m not that ugly, am I?

As we rode home my mother looked crossly at us, then turned away and sulked out of the window. Smelly old hag!

The next day, the news went round that the mystery girl, who had caught the prince’s eye, had left her slipper on the staircase. The prince was coming round to every house and whoever the slipper fits, he would marry them! Shame I had size 18 feet.

As Cinderella scuttled down the stairs on that morning, she looked strangely like the girl at the ball. Maybe I was tired, who knows?

As usual, my Mother was lashing-it-out at Cinderella and nagging us to get changed for the prince. She was mad, we weren’t going to fit into the tiny slipper. Mad old bag!

Finally, the prince arrived, the slippers were smaller then I thought. Size 4! How was I ever going to get my flippers into the delicate shoe?

As the prince entered our ‘house’, he groaned at the sight of us, the ugly sisters.

“Let’s get this over and done with quickly,” he whispered under his breath, I could still hear him! Of course it didn’t fit me or my sister. Just as the prince was about to leave, Cinderella flew down the stairs , the prince gazed up at her.

“You may try the shoe on,” he said gazing up at her. As Cinderella slipped her foot into the beautiful shoe, they both looked at each other for round about half an hour. At last they rode off.

So that was that, Cinderella was happy with the prince and so are Mum, Drusilla and I. Over the months we’ve had to do the housework and learned more about each other.

And that’s the most important story you’ll hear.

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3 Responses to Alternative Cinderella: Phoebe’s story

  1. Clare Dove says:

    great twist . Well done

  2. Justine Jenner says:

    I love this story – such a brilliant twist on the original and very funny. I laughed out loud at her eyeing all the wonderful food at the ball and wanting to “stuff her face”.
    Well done Phoebe.

  3. Phoebe dove says:

    I was a strange child at 10!

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