Skip directly to content

Cinderella Spin-Off Story

[{"parent":{"title":"Get on the list!","body":" Get exclusive information about My Chemical Romance ","field_newsletter_id":"6388094","field_label_list_id":"6518500","field_display_rates":"0","field_preview_mode":"false","field_lbox_height":"","field_lbox_width":"","field_toaster_timeout":"10000","field_toaster_position":"From Bottom","field_turnkey_height":"500","field_mailing_list_params_toast":"&autoreply=no","field_mailing_list_params_se":"&autoreply=no"}}]
killjoys-never-die's picture
on August 24, 2014 - 5:18pm

As I mentioned earlier, this is a story I've been writing lately :) I hope you guys like it and please please please comment <3 Love you all!
When we first enter this world, everything is interesting. As children, we never think about what we are seeing, we just see. Interpretation of these images comes later. Much later. When we begin to develop a memory, thoughts, personality. It's then that we begin to truly understand our past, sorting through all the wondrous colors like a slideshow in our heads, trying to make sense of anything and everything we can.
As a child, I was obvious to the reality of my life. New houses, new parents, it was all just a mesmerizing blur of interesting. I floated through life like a spring leaf, freshly picked from a tree, being carried away by a cool, fall breeze. It wasn't until I reached an age of reason that I even began to comprehend that my situation was not common. It slowly began to dawn on me as I got older that I'd never have a true home. In and out of foster homes, I began to wonder what it would be like to truly belong anywhere.

I reached my fourteenth "home" on my sixteenth birthday. By now, I guess I understood that there would be no presents or celebration for me. I was just another face in the crowd, another mouth to feed. And this time was no different.
I was dropped off at 374 Walnut Street, a two story, brick containment right outside New York City, on the brisk morning of October 31st. As I stepped out of the car, I could immediately feel the judging glances of my new guardians tearing at me, skin and bone, until they had exposed all that was underneath. I shivered under my black Misfits hoodie and rolled my single black suitcase up the straight driveway towards the glares, preparing myself for the inevitable.
"Hello, you must be Alexandria," said the woman who was to be my newest parent in a slightly squeaky voice. She reached out a pink manicured hand that perfectly matched her little pink day dress. I pushed my black bangs out of my eyes and extended black clad hand to hers as I tried to force a smile.
"I go by Alex," I replied shakily, telling my anxiety to go away. I shook her hand, which was as cold as the weather around us, even underneath my black gloves.
"Alex is a boys name," she replied matter-of-factly, a slight frown hinting on the edge of her very red lips. "I am Annie, your new mother. You may call me Mother or Mom, whichever you please. And this," She said, motioning to the overpowering man next to her as if I couldn't tell who she was talking about. "Is Marcus, your new father." He muttered a deep hello, but his hands remained in his khaki pants. He was wearing a button-down oxford and a condescending stare. I quickly looked away, fearing that he would bard into my soul if I looked into his eyes for more than a few seconds.
After informing them that I had no other bags or possessions, they led me up the leaf covered path to the red house that was practically identical to all the others on Walnut Street. I could hear the crisp crunch of the fall leaves under my lace up boots as I walked behind them. I smiled to myself. That sound was one of the best sounds in the world. Maybe this day wouldn't be so bad, I thought to myself as we reached the ebony door and Marcus reached for the shining gold door knob. Oh, how wrong I was.