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.

“That something could look so beautiful and still be a nightmare is terrifying,” I say as I look at her. “You don’t know that it will be a nightmare.” “I wasn’t talking about the palace.”

“I don’t think we’ll succeed, but who wouldn’t want to be alone in a creepy forest with you?”

rye

“The bomb.” She holds the container up, giving it a little shake like I should know what it is. “Did you make that?” I ask. “Of course,” she says flippantly. “My mother taught me.” “My mother taught me how to make bread.” The corner of her mouth turns up. “Well, that has its uses, too.”

“It’s risky,” says Constance, reading my expression. “But sometimes that’s the only way to get things done. Take the risk, light the fuse. Onward.”

“Were you trying to choke me back there?” she asks. “I thought you were one of the guards,” I say, heat rising in my face. “I’m so sorry.” “You can’t choke a full-grown man. You have to stab him or run him over with your cart. Come on now, Sophia.”

A prison is still a prison no matter how pretty the decor,

“And there’s no sense in feeling sorry for yourself.” “I don’t. I feel sorry for them. My parents, that is. They only know how to follow the king. They’ve lost their way when it comes to knowing how to help me.” “And you’re not lost?” I think for a moment. “Maybe I am. But the difference is that I want to be found. I’m not happy pretending everything is fine when I know it’s not.” “And just who is it that you suppose will find you?” Amina asks. “It’ll be me,” I say. “I will find myself.”

“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life as a toad, Sophia.” “But you’d be such a cute one,” I say. “A beautiful bullfrog.”

“Helen is a liar and a cheat and sells cow piss in fancy glass bottles to unwitting, often desperate people,” Amina says disapprovingly. “The only reason she’s allowed to continue is because Manford knows she’s a fake.” I swallow hard. I drank a half vial of cow piss and gave Erin the rest. That is a secret I’ll be taking to my grave.

“Do you even know how to use a sword? Women aren’t permitted to—” “The pointy end goes in your neck,” Constance snaps.

“He made them monsters to keep the attention off him. He is the real monster.” “And now look,” I say. “All these years later, people take it as fact. It’s as if repeating the lie over and over makes it true.”

“Maybe give us some warning next time?” “Maybe don’t try to stab every man you see,” Amina shoots back. Constance looks to me and shrugs. “It’s a habit.”

Do not be silent. Raise your voice. Be a light in the dark.