This was planned as an entry to the speakeasy at yeah write #127 writing challenge. Unfortunately I was not able to convey what I had in mind in only 750 words. But I rather enjoyed writing this and wanted to post it anyway, so here it is. I hope you like it!
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This was the night. If all of Cindy’s worries and problems had meant anything, than this night would be repayment for every single one of them. As she slowly closed the door behind her she hoped her trick, of putting tape over the latch, would work. She averted her eyes in fear but when she finally pulled the door shut it made no clicking sound: The door had failed to latch. This would enable her to get back in the house without anyone noticing. While she started speeding through the little backyard, carefully trying not to trample the flowers, she remembered how it all began…
A few years back, her mother had died of cancer. This was a big shock for Cindy, as she had always been very close to her mother, but her father was hit even worse. He was the CEO of one of the largest companies in the country and after his wives demise he was grieve stricken for over a year. This did not change until he met a new woman, Cathrin. Cathrin had two daughters and she too, had lost her husband. Cindy’s father was so hungry for relieve, that it took him only a few months to marry Cathrin and welcome them to their new home.
Cindy was now sitting in a bus and everyone looked at her a little funny. Whether the result of her sprint to get to the bus on time or her clothes had caused this, she wasn’t sure, but as she sat there trying not to notice the turning heads she went back to remembering.
When Cathrin moved in, Cindy’s father had started to quickly recover. But as she took an ever growing part in his life he started to focus more and more on her and neglected to notice how she and her daughters treated Cindy. Cathrin despised Cindy and not soon after she moved in, Cindy was forced to do nearly all of the chores Cathrin and her picture perfect daughters could think of. But regardless of whether it was washing their clothes or cleaning the toilet, Cindy never told her father. The period when she was helplessly watching him suffering alone was too vivid in her memory.
Finally the bus arrived at her stop and she hopped out, happy to get away from the stares. After a short look around to orient herself, she walked decisively towards her goal: The French embassy, where the current ambassador was holding a grand ball. Her real goal was the after-party, where the teenage guests could have fun.
She had found the invitation to the ball by chance, when her stepmother ordered her to get the mail. But Cindy was sure her stepmother would never give her a dress or approval to go there. It wasn’t until a few days before the event, that Cindy had the solution to her problem. When she was kneeling in front of her mothers grave crying and telling her of the problems underneath a hazel tree, she was reminded of the branch of a hazel her mother had given her as a last present. She had told Cindy the hazel was a symbol of wish-fulfillment and with a wink of her eye put some money in her daughters hand. Cindy had never touched the money since, but for this occasion she took it and bought herself the nicest dress and make-up she could find.
With this silvery glittering dress, she finally stepped into the embassy. Soon, she became the center of attention, as she wildly danced in the middle of the room and even the son of the ambassador, whom half of the women on the party wanted to dance with, had only eyes for Cindy. As she was twirling around to music from the eighties she experienced pure joy. She was dancing like she never had before.
But the fun could not last. To get home before her stepmother could realize she was gone, Cindy had set herself the limit of midnight by which she had to leave the party. As she was finally going towards the exit the ambassadors son tried to stop her, but only managed to slide a ring from her finger while she kept on running. When the young man awakened the next morning he could not help but long for the girl he had spend the better half of the night with and visited every single address from the guest list looking for the finger on which the ring would fit perfectly. When he came to the Cindy’s House, both of her stepsisters did everything they could to put the ring on their fingers, but both were too slender and the ring would only fall off. But when he saw Cindy, he was sure the ring would fit, since he remembered her face clearly. And of course the ring stayed on her hand and it is said that she never took it off again.