Cinderella Is Dead

by Kalynn Bayron

I don’t want to be saved by some knight in shining armor. I’d like to be the one in the armor, and I’d like to be the one doing the saving.

“Why are you dressed like that?” I ask. She looks lovely, but I’ve never seen a woman wear pants and a tunic before. “The pockets,” she says. She puts her hands in them and gives a little twirl. “I love pockets.”

“Do you want me to continue?” she asks. “The truth is tricky. People want to know it, but when they do, sometimes they wish they didn’t.” I think carefully about this. Everything that happened in the palace plays in my head. “Yes, I want to know. Tell me everything.”