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.”

“Have you ever thought about what kind of a person would have a child and name it Charming?”

“I think we need to burn the whole thing to the ground and start over. The entire system, the ideals that have been woven into this society. It all has to go.”

My first thought is to alert the merchant, but when he makes a comment about the length of a young girl’s skirt and how her legs are simply too inviting to resist, I stop in my tracks. He deserves to have his things stolen.

“Smile. You’re so much prettier when you smile.”