I soon reached the kitchen and quickly went inside it. No one was in there. It was cold and desolate. My stepmother had gotten rid of almost every other servant a long time ago. The home I once knew disappeared with my father's death. The warmth of the kitchen that used to be like a second home was gone. How I wished it were different.

I remember that there was once a time when the kitchen was always warm from the heat of the oven and smelled of fresh baking bread. I remember sneaking into the kitchen in order to steal a pastry or two. I remember being scolded by my mother for stealing pastries. I remember the cook then slipping me another pastry when my mother turned away. I remember everyone who used to work in the kitchen and how much they used to love my visits.

I remember my mother teaching me how to cook for the very first time in this kitchen.I remember that she had sent all the servants home for the day and we were both preparing dinner. I remember her smile as she wiped flour off my face asking me 'Now how did that get there? We didn't even use flour'. I remember her laugh as I replied with a shrug. I remember her singing and dancing as she cooked. I remember her sitting with me as we ate the meal we cooked together.

I remember the warmth of sitting around the hearth, not caring that stray ashes landed on us. I remember that after the fire died and the room became cold, I crawled into the hearth and sat down in order to warm myself up again. I remember falling asleep there and when my mother woke up and finally found me all covered in cinders, she asked 'What am I going to do with you my little Cinderella?'

I remember after my father died, my stepsisters found me sleeping in the hearth and Delaney said 'Well, well, look here. Ella is sleeping in the fireplace and she's covered in cinders. How about we call her Cinderella from now on?' 'Cinderella. Now you'll always remember that we'll never be alike. You're just a lowly servant covered in cinders and we're your masters' Leonora spit out. I remember my stepsisters chanting Cinderella over and over again. I remember my stepmother coming in and hearing the name. I remember the wicked grin that crossed her face as soon as she heard it.

I remember the first time she used that name. I remember the first time she treated me like I was lower then a dog. Now, she uses that name all the time. For all I am to them is their servant covered in cinders, Cinderella.

Hey! So I know this chapter's kind of short, but I like it. Plus I wrote it so that I'd stop playing solitaire. I've had it pointed out to me by that I'm probably scaring people off with my author's notes. If that's the case sorry. I've posted a lot of chapters in the last hour. It'll probably never be like this again. Did I just scare more people off? Anyways, thanks for reading this. Please vote and comment. Bye!

P.S. Pandas? Anyone? Anyone at all? Someone else who's room is filled with pandas, please exist and read this!