Essay on The Slipper

Once upon a time in a land far away, a young girl named Cinderella lived with her Stepmother and two stepsisters. Although they were exceedingly cruel, Cinderella continued to be as benevolent as a human could be. One night Cinderella had come across a ball that her mother had forbidden her to attend. Her stepsisters tore and ripped her dress that she had made herself, so Cinderella couldn’t attend the ball. After Cinderella’s stepmother and sisters went off to the ball, a fairy godmother had appeared to grant Cinderella’s dreams to attend the ball. There she met a young fellow whom she danced with all night. Little had she known he was the prince who was throwing the ball. At the beginning of the night the fairy godmother had told

The young woman opened up her door and immediately felt that sense of uneasiness again even though her home was full of light. She could hear the water running in the bathroom and figured that her boyfriend, James, was just taking his usual night shower. She went into the kitchen to get a quick drink of water. As she drank the cool liquid she felt an immense feeling of relief. She advanced toward the bathroom. She walked down the hallway heading towards the closed bathroom door. Alecia felt a sense of panic and anxiety when she felt her foot become slightly submerged in a liquid on the floor.

Jolie tried her hardest to remain quiet as she entered the dark, musty basement that smelt like dead animals. The music played loudly, which masked the creaks of the stairs she stepped on. She gripped the broom tightly in her hand. Jolie squinted her eyes around to make out anything that made the music turn on or the loud crashes. Her eyes rested on a man and she tried her hardest not to panic. She quickly, but quietly turned around and walked up the stairs trying to remain calm all the while. When the man started humming along with the violin music she began to cry; she didn’t want to cry. Jolie gripped the railing and the broom slipped from her hand and fell down the stairs. The man jerked around made eye contact with her. He was frowning and then a devilish smirk appeared. She let out the scream she had been holding in for what seemed like forever. Jolie

A scream bubbled up inside her as strong hand grasped her mouth, muffling any chance for help. His hot breath tickled her cheek as they disappeared into the woods just outside of town. Her eyes scanned in every direction, trying to find an escape, but his large body was all around her, enveloping her like the fog that was rolling in in an ungodly manner. It blanketed the forest like a mother tucking her children in at night. The little life that Evangeline lived flashed before her eyes, most of it spent with Lila. Without much hope of survival left, she thought of the only thing she could do. A swift kick to the shin sent him hobbling in the opposite direction after dropping Evangeline to the ground. She sat in a heap covered in mud and wet leaves, staring up at her attacker who was hopping on one leg favoring his injured

It was later in the day, near time for all to pack up and go home, when shouts rang through the mill. A blur of green, a cloud of red barreling through the mill. "Stop!" The men shouted, trying to catch the panicked, running girl. Her face was ashen, mottled with red and wet with sweat and tears. Eyes hardly seeing. A splash of wet red across her green dress. "She's hurt, catch her!" Hands reached out but the shrill scream when they near caught her made the men

A royal proclamation invited everyone to a ball to dance with the prince. Just Drizella and Anastasia and I could go. Not Cinderella. She didn’t have a dress and hadn’t finished her chores. So, like any good mother, I told her she couldn’t go. Cinderella was very upset. Turns out she did have a dress- that I accidently ripped. Yet, Cinderella stayed home while the rest of us left for the ball. Everything was fine until stinky, little Ella snuck out, found the sympathy of some “fairy godmother”, came to the ball, and danced with the prince. I was extremely upset. She had directly disobeyed me! So, when a decree came looking for the ‘maiden with a small shoe’, which had to be Cinderella because she had the smallest feet, I grounded her to her room, attending to let her out when the Duke came to try the shoe on her. But, I accidently locked the door and by the time Cinderella got out, I also had accidentally broken the shoe. And then, you know what she did? She pulled out the other match! She hadn’t given it back to the fairy godmother! She was a thief! I was so mad. But it

A painful groan sounded from somewhere unseen in the starlight, and I cautiously approached the trees to my left. I then remembered there had been a sharp crack, like a branch breaking in a spring storm. Emma was lying on the ground on top of what used to be a low wooden fence, the blackened soles of her feet facing me. The first thing that came to mind in that moment was that she had the dirtiest feet I had ever seen, and for some reason this bothered me more than the fact that she had broken what was probably national property. She grasped my sweaty palms in hers and heaved herself up, remarkable unscathed from her tumble. I suppose she was hurting a lot more than she could currently process. The pieces of fence, slick with humidity, lay splintered at our feet. Paler wood that had been freshly exposed with the break, stared at us accusingly. Without a word we continued onto the path that cut through to her

She decided to look down for the rest of the walk after getting glared at by a passerby. As she was watching her feet and skipping over the cracks in the pavement, something had yanked the back of her jacket. Whipping around, Becca saw a shambled family. They were tan and soaking wet; their cardboard home shaped the background of the frightening portrait Becca was faced with. A wave of angry words, desperate words confronted her, echoing without meaning her mind. The mother of the two children fell to her knees weeping, pleading for something Becca would never exactly know. The daughter, the girl Becca realized pulled her jacket, stared at her. Dark chocolate colored eyes were melting with the heat of her pain and her brittle lips smoked with the speed of her pleading words. Becca was being pulled away unknowingly when she heard a familiar rumble coming from the pit of the girl’s stomach. And just as soon as the encounter had happened, it was over. Concern replaced the sound of desperation and she let her family know she was fine. She went back to looking at her feet. In a couple of minutes, Becca’s family arrived at the

Eliza limped towards the lake. She didn’t know why she wanted to be there so bad anymore, her leg was throbbing and blood was pooling around her. She felt weak and she was shivering even though it was easily over ninety degrees outside. She looked back at the city she had come from. There was no longing to return as she stared at the towering buildings behind her. Her mom, of course, had exhausted that feeling away from her. Eliza turned back around, she could see her lake now. Half unconscious, she half ran, half stumbled to the makeshift bench her and her dad had made when she was five. When she reached it, she sat down with a thump, tears streaming from her eyes and down her cheeks. How did things end up so badly? She looked down and watched

Cinderella fit the shoe and “a few days after, married her” (Parrault). In each version of Cinderella, the stepsiblings try in vain to claim ownership of the identifier. Then, after the main character successfully claims ownership of the identifier, the important person and the main character begin a

She got through and tiptoed over to Daisy’s bed. She grabbed up the dog as fast as she possibly could, then she dashed out the gate. When she got home she opened the door and shoved the dog inside. Daisy was laying down in a corner and Katherine figured she would be fine for the night where she was. Katherine got into bed and quickly fell asleep. She got up the next morning and walked into the living room. Her couch was torn to shreds and the glass tray full of cookies that was on the counter was shattered on the floor and there was crumbs everywhere. Daisy was sitting in the kitchen licking the floor.

I reached for a small plate and started to place some random desserts on it as I spoke.

Melisende's injured hand lay limp in the bonds as her other worked feverishly trying to free herself from the makeshift bonds keeping her ankles and wrists held together. Her fingers curled beneath the string in an effort to get her palm curled enough to free her hand however just as she managed to get one finger lodged through, she heard the hard clumps of his boots as they approached her bound form before she felt his roughened hands moving around her svelte body before lifting her up over his shoulder and flopping her down on her stomach, her wrists and ankles still painfully held together behind her. Melisende inhaled sharply in pain as her stomach was pressed painfully against his shoulder.

Her eyes struggled to stay open, slowly blinking but never closing. Droplets from the clouds rolled down the windowpane, like copycats of those running down her face. The night was dark with shadows. The only sounds in the house were the plump raindrops falling on the windowsill, the clinking of beer bottles and the sound of her nervous breath. She had to stay awake for she had left the moment he had passed out on the dusty couch in the living room. Her sweaty palms clutched the leather straps of her bag. Her body shook like a small dog’s and the wind made the trees sway like the ghosts of everything she’d ever known. The sound finally came and so did the closing of her bedroom door.

Charles Perrault’s Cinderella or The Little Glass Slipper was published in 1697. It is considered to be one the most prevalent reinterpretations of the classic story. Perrault’s version was “addressed largely to an adult and highly sophisticated audience” (Cullen 57). For this reason, Perrault seldom emphasizes the details of Cinderella’s mistreatment and instead shifts the stories’ focus on the moral and materialistic concerns related to his audience in order to “to please [his] aristocratic audience” (Tatar 189). Accordingly, Perrault portrayed Cinderella to be dependent, self-sacrificing, and “exhibits