She Treated Them Like Rags

by Jesse Welch

Evil Stepmother:

I gave my life for my daughters. My youth and years of toil to keep them alive, clothed, fed, and turn them into decent human beings. All I ever wanted was good children.

And in some ways I failed. My daughters and I were far from angels. But we were doing our best. And then I had to go and marry that man.

He was good enough. Rather bland, a boring lover, but a woman has responsibilities and my daughters needed to eat. He wasn't the problem. That daughter of his was.

Better than us, and she knew it. Gorgeous, kindhearted, white as chalk, with hands so smooth they made a baby's ass feel like sandpaper. The kind of girl who's never worked a day in her life, and never realized that was something special. That girl would nurse a bird back to health, but never help with the housework. Didn't get practicality, necessity.

So when her father died, I knocked her down a peg, I'll admit it. I gave her normal clothes instead of ball gowns, and she treated them like rags, had her help with the housework and she thought she was a servant. That girl never understood the real world.

She'll tell you all about how I kept her from the Prince's ball, make it a story as long as the Bible, with me as evil as Satan and her as immaculate as Jesus. She'll never tell you why I did it. I knew she'd win the Prince's heart. Body like hers, no one else had a chance. She'd marry him, the King would die, and she'd be Queen. And she'll tell you all that means happily ever after. As if having a country run by an inbred oaf and a beauty who doesn't understand real life is a happy ending. We need better than that, a Queen with a head on her shoulders to maybe fix things up around here, and I tried to give that Queen a chance to rule.

I'll never regret anything I did to Cinderella. My only regret is that I failed. Maybe someday some other "evil stepmother" will succeed, and a real woman will wear the crown. Until then, we have Cinderella and her fairy tale ending, her happily ever after where we all must walk on glass.