Cinderella Retold

Story by Weiqing Zhou

| AUTUMN 2019 ISSUE | FICTION

Cinderella is a well-known story, but in the original fairytale only Cinderella’s perspective is told. Weiqing provides her take on the mice’s point of view.

Our day started out like it had for the past ten months. At the break of dawn, we stole out of our den and crept toward the pantry. We tried to sneak past the guardian—the lazy, relatively good-natured grey-haired guardian—and when we were inevitably discovered and chased away, we rendezvoused next to our breakfast point, the grain sack. We then plotted ways to put a bell on him over breakfast. We never would have expected that this would be the day that would change our lives…

The Large Ones who live in this house were acting differently than usual. The house was full of the scent of something sickeningly sweet, and the kind Grey One rushed back and forth over our heads. Sometimes she carried colorful cloth, other times pointy and sharp things both large and small, and one time she almost dropped a very hot iron on us (not purposefully, of course). The other Large Ones kept barking and barking at the Grey One, and our ears were beginning to hurt. Finally, around noon, the mean Large Ones looked larger and their legs disappeared under a huge volume of cloth and lace. The Shorter Ones’ hair were fixed with feather plumes. Their feathers and chittering made them seem quite like birds. The long, thin rods propping up their heels were quite dangerous and we made sure to steer clear of them.

The Thin One with the sharp face barked some more at the Grey One, then she and the Shorter Ones went clicking and clacking out the door. The Grey One began weeping. We, on the other hand, were glad that the sharp rods that clicked were gone, along with the barking. The guardian of the pantry was likely elsewhere, preparing to nap the afternoon away, so we scampered to the kitchen and ate our lunch. The afternoon passed quickly and quietly.

Then, in the evening, while we were eating our dinner next to the pumpkin in the kitchen, the Grey One wept again. And then suddenly, a bright light began to shine in front of her. It took the form of a silver-haired Old One, clothed in clothes that glittered like the stars and surrounded by the glow of the moon. On her back were wings like spun silver. We could not believe our eyes—it was an Enchanted One!

The Enchanted One and the kind Grey One spoke, and the Enchanted One cast her magic. In a swirl of sparkles and wind, the kind Grey One’s clothes changed to the clothes of an Enchanted. Upon her feet were beautiful crystal slippers that tinkled as she walked. Then, the Enchanted One turned to us. “Please, I would like your help,” she said in that voice which rang like bells. We humbly offered ourselves to her, awed.

Another swirl of sparkles and wind, and we found ourselves bearing sleek black bodies. We were glossy and strong, and ready to serve our mistress. Harnessed to our backs by gleaming silver was a carriage worthy of the Enchanted. The Enchanted One spoke again, and instructed us what to do. She painted in our minds the route to take and marked the twelve chimes of High Night. “You must return then,” she said, and vanished in a swirl of light.

With the smooth but swift speed the Enchanted had granted us, we sped through the evening like a soft breeze, taking the mistress to a marvelous place shining with a wonderful golden light. We stood proudly as our mistress glided out with her tinkling steps into the shining hall. The moon climbed higher as we patiently awaited her return.

Then, as the first deep, ringing chime of High Night sounded through the night, our time came. Our mistress flew back, one clear crystal slipper gone. And like a swift breeze in the night, we were gone.

The days went by the same as before. The guardian and the pantry, the sounds and the smells. It was all back to normal. But then, suddenly, the crystal slipper appeared once more. The Large Ones hurried to and fro in the house. And then, there was quiet.