Over the past couple of weeks we have been looking at writing stories from the point of view of one of the characters. We looked at the alternative fairy tales that Class AS wrote two years ago and decided to write our own, but from the point of view of one of the characters.
Additionally, the children had to think hard about the purpose of the story and the way they wanted the reader to feel about their central character. We decided that we would write a paragraph about our choice at the end of the story. The first of our stories is Mahima’s version of Cinderella
Alternative Cinderella – Anastasia’s view
Let me introduce myself, I’m Anastasia, also known as the youngest ugly sister. I’m not like my sister Drusilla. She’s fat with a warty face. I’m thin, too thin, and I have thick sludge brown hair which is dull against my pale green eyes. I’m hoping to pull off a little swap of me and my sister’s conditioners. My sister and mother both have sleek, shiny, straight brown hair which contrasts romantically against their bright green eyes. They both hate Cinderella. Anyway haven’t you ever wished that things went your way? Have you ever felt the surge of annoyance when everyone favours your sister over you? You haven’t? Well I have and so has one of my dearest friends. Here is my story.
Once upon a time….(Yeah right) My mother got remarried (I mean seriously, and I thought no one had the bad taste to marry that old witch.) She married a kindly looking man who had one daughter. I thought this daughter would be as kind as her father and I thought she would be treated with fairness and kindness. Obviously my Mum and sister thought otherwise. After meeting her they set her to work as our servant. I didn’t want this to happen but I didn’t protest because I didn’t want to be singled out as ‘not worthy’. I felt bad for Cinderella but what could I do? Nothing, that’s what. I thought she had no chance of getting a happy ending.
Until one night, I was worried for Cinderella. But then I spied 4 golden envelopes in the post basket. Carefully peeling off the flap, I gently slid out a shiny piece of card. It was an invitation to the PRINCE’S ROYAL BALL!
I called for my Mother and Sister. They took one look at the invitation, and Drusilla screamed with delight.
‘’Look, Look!’’ I squealed ‘’It’s an invitation to the ball!’’
Screaming inhumanly, Drusilla went to Cinderella, I don’t know what they’re talking about but I twigged that Drusilla had forbidden Cinderella to go to the ball.
Weeks before the big night Cinderella finished my dress. It was of delicate material, as I am not fat like my sister, I’m thin like a stick.
‘’I love my dress Cinderella!’’ I hugged her hard. It had a deep purple velvet bodice and a lace hemmed silk skirt. It was simply beautiful, just like Cinderella. Drusilla’s dress was still being sewn. It was a bright pink meringue with a very bright skirt. It was made out of durable starchy material. Mother’s was to be a slinky black dress with velvet lining and a silk skirt. (I think hers was ordered off the desirable women’s dress shop catalogue.)
I can always count on Drusilla to be helpful! She broke my ivory comb with the musty brown knots of hair. Mine is the same colour but sleek and shiny. I don’t care that much about it though. I am currently called beautiful but I have plenty of warts. About a week before the day I decided to pop my warts. I smeared on a special cream and washed my face. The warts fell off and revealed my dry skin underneath. Then I rubbed in a moisturiser to make my face nice. ( I know I said earlier that I had horrible hair but I sort of swapped me and my sister’s shampoo).
Time passed rapidly. Carefully on the day, I applied my makeup and combed my sleek hair. If I weren’t so thin I’d have looked cool.
‘’I’ll eat something at the ball, but I can’t eat too much I need to look fantastic!’’ I said to myself hurriedly. I pulled on my dress and ran downstairs calling to my Mother that I was ready, I ran downstairs to join my family who were forbidding Cinderella to go.
‘’But please!’’ Cinderella cried then a barely audible ‘ok’ came out. She looked so sad! I tried to ignore Cinderella’s whimpering look. A memory shot up in my mind, Cinderella was forbidden to live with us until her father stepped in. ‘The world knows what it’s doing’ Cinderella was here to help me even through her pain.
Just before we left I saw Cinderella curl up on the hearth and fall asleep. It made me feel sympathetic to little Cinders.
At the ball there was an array of colourful dresses and a banquet table full of food. I crammed some lettuce and cheese sandwiches in my mouth and digested it with lemonade. Suddenly the prince walked down the red carpet. He looked so regal, so elegant in his fine riding coat with gold frogging down the front, and his polished leather boots with the royal crest on them. I almost broke the royalist silence.
‘’Mother, Drusilla,’’ I whispered carefully. ‘’It’s him!’’ I was almost in Heaven but I forced myself down because I knew and cared that someone at home wasn’t in heaven with me. But then the most beautiful girl paraded down the marble steps and onto the red carpet, she had tumbling golden locks and eyes as blue as the moonlit sea. Her dress was a light blue silk with a velvet bodice, a netting underskirt and a fancy lace hem. She had on the most mesmerising glass slippers.
‘‘Look how beautiful she is.’’ I said to Drusilla who couldn’t breathe.
‘’Y…yeah.’’ She murmured gazing at the prince. Finally I noticed the prince who was holding out his hand for the breathtakingly beautiful girl. He danced with her for all the dances. I felt an ache in my selfless heart when I noticed that the girl looked suspiciously like Cinderella.
When the clock struck 12 the girl picked up her shimmering skirts.
‘’I must go!’’ she declared as she prepared to tiptoe up the marble steps.
‘’But wait! I don’t even know your name!’’ He absconded after her in a mad spate. Finally he noticed the dainty crystal slipper she left behind. He cradled the shoe and placed it on a cushion.
As dawn broke the next day I was up and ready for the coming of the new day. I brushed my sleek hair which was the result of my sister’s conditioner. As I did this I remembered something that Cinderella had said. ‘Every girl is beautiful’ A loud rap on the door startled me.
‘’Drusilla can you get the door?’’ I bawled hysterically after my snail of a sister.
‘’Ok. Will do!’’ she yelled back as she sluggishly crawled down the rickety stairwell with its rope banister. I guffawed after her, I accidently-on-purpose ripped her day dress maybe I did accidently push her down! Anyway she opened the door and in marched the prince.
‘’I am here to find the girl who fits this shoe!’’ He divulged. Mother had already locked Cinderella in the cellar with the pots, pans and mother’s old under garments which emphasised her large backside. So then the prince let me and my sister try on the shoe. Drusilla’s feet were way too fat, mine were way too thin. Eventually I was aware that Cinderella had broken out of the cellar. She placed her dainty foot into the slipper. I felt a poof of smoke, (maybe it was my imagination) and ta-dah! The shoe fitted Cinderella perfectly. I felt so immensely exultant for her. At last the Prince spoke after a magical moment of silence. I remembered Cinderella’s saying ‘A door of opportunity is always awaiting you’
‘’Cinderella my darling, will you marry me?’’ He proposed in a honey thick tone full of sweetness.
‘’Yes I will!’’ Cinderella grinned so sweetly.
We were all invited to the all-important wedding. Cinderella looked so happy and she was bursting with pride. We wore our ball dresses (remade with extra silk and fresh velvet) and Drusilla… Oh Drusilla looked so beautiful) (Of course she looked like a travelling donkey’s backside!)
Cinderella and the Prince said their wedding vows, honestly they are in perfect love, and they lived happily ever after.
Not, I repeat, not the end for me, we have a new maid and I’d love if this were her story. Not Cinderella’s. If I was writing her story I’d write ‘Once upon a time there was a girl called Drusilla…..’ How happy can you get? Drusilla is our new maid because Mother is punishing her for putting Cinderella through all her misery. Mother doesn’t want to be blamed and I don’t blame her. It’s a great punishment because Drusilla can’t think of anything worse than being me and Mother’s maid. Mother still gets on my nerves but through fear of her reading this, I didn’t make any bad comments about her. I can’t wait to start saying ‘Drusilla do my washing!’ Or ‘Drusilla sew me a dress!’ Or even ‘Drusilla help me on the toilet!’
My main objective for this work was too make the reader feel sympathetic for Anastasia and the hardships she and Cinderella face and although it seems like they are leading 2 different lives, I’ve tried to make it seems like they’re supporting each other throughout the story. I’ve tried to make it seem like Anastasia’s hearing Cinderella in her head. I wanted it to seem like Anastasia’s using Cinderella’s knowledge as a guide to life.