King shrugged at me. "Hey, the house was a mess and your godmother offered her to us, she needed a place to live..."
"SHE'S A SKELETON!" I cried.
"Her name is Bonehilda," King said, ignoring me, "And she sleeps in her coffin, so we don't need to worry about an extra bed." Bonehilda approached Sandy's high chair with a sopping sponge in hand. I plucked Sandy out of the chair, fearfully, and stepped away from Bonehilda. She proceeded to wipe down the high chair. I studied her outfit as she cleaned-black buckle shoes, short maid outfit, headpiece, ribbon, and even a frilly yellow garter.
I climbed the stairs to put Sandy to bed. She was fidgeting a bit. "Prince," I said, "How did Sandy get downstairs anyway? We were in the same room as her while we talked... how could she have possibly gotten downstairs without us noticing?"
"You're right..." Prince opened his mouth to suggest an explanation, any, but nothing came.
"Maybe she climbed out on her own," I croaked.
"Yeah," Prince said. Neither of us really believed it.
When I returned downstairs, I found Bonehilda holding what looked like a bowl of pink brains. "Bonehilda!" I cried, "What is that!"
She slowly turned her head to face me. A shiver traveled down my spine. She grabbed a spoon and pushed it into the brains. It wobbled, like jello. She put the brains to her mouth. They quivered on the spoon. When she slid the brains into her mouth, they fell through her body to the floor. I stood back, aghast, as Bonehilda picked up the brains with the bony fingers and slid the bowl back into the fridge.
"Bonehilda," I coughed. "Can I just call you Hilda?"
She nodded, unable to communicate her emotions otherwise.
Bonehilda pulled out a leftover slice of bread and jam and set it on the counter before returning to clean the high chair. I didn't trust her, so I prepared some pancakes in the meantime, using the blender to mix ingredients. Later on, I asked King to send her back to her coffin until some cleaning had to be done. I explained that all she did was serve leftovers and brains.
The next few months passed by without tension. Prince and I slowly rebuilt our friendship, our trust, our romance, and life slowly started getting on track again. I decided to visit step-mother, Drizella, and Anastasia and see how their lives were.
When I walked in to the house I found it empty, so I started searching the rooms to find someone. Of course, the first place I found someone was the washroom.
Drizella bolted up quickly as I pushed the door open. The toilet was in the middle of flushing down what looked like puke.
"What are you doing here?" she sneered. She was dressed in her hooker outfit. It was nice to know she hadn't changed.
"Came to check up on my steps," I replied casually. Drizella had obviously hit mid-age. Her face was worn and the stress lines were prominent. Her cheekbones were sharp and stressed. "Are you bulimic?" I shot, wondering what was going on.
Drizella glared at me. "Yeah. I can't even hold down a meal anymore," she said, as if trying to sound like she thought it was something to be proud of. The panic behind her eyes told me that she was ashamed, though.
"Drizella," I sighed, "I'm calling a rehabilitation center right now, okay? Are you okay with that?"
Drizella nodded feebly. "I know I need help." She was too weak to fight.
After phoning the rehab center, I told Drizella the address of the place and the time to be there. "Where's Anastasia? She can drive you there."
The front door slammed, announcing the devil's presence.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Anastasia said with a smirk as she saw me.
"Nice to see you too."
Anastasia pulled a plate of salad out of the fridge, grabbed a fork, and sat down at the miniature dining table. I sat opposite her. "Do you have an eating problem?"
Anastasia snorted and shoved a forkful of salad into her mouth. "I'm not a puking prostitute if that's what you're wondering. Hey, that's good. That should be Drizella's new name," she cackled.
"Don't be cruel. Can you drive her to a rehab center this week?" I relayed the time and address.
Anastasia shrugged. "Whatever."
"Got a skin condition?" Anastasia's skin was oily and sickly looking, extremely pale.
"Nah," Anastasia said. "Just age."
"Uh-huh."
I watched her eat. When she was done, she washed up her plate before turning to me. "Hey, can you do me a favour and keep your idiotic father-in-law away from mother?"
Oh, c'mon now. "What'd he do this time?"
"She's batty, okay? She can't remember anything any more and now Drizella and I are just babysitting her. It's exhausting," Anastasia sighed.
"What does that have to do with King?"
"Just shut up and let me explain. So Drizella and I take mother to the park, because she's the most peaceful there. On the particular day I'm referring to, she was wearing a very loose dress and a giant jeweled necklace."
"I was playing golf on the little practice putting things," Anastasia continued. I could imagine her getting frustrated about missing again and again.
"Drizella had laid out a picnic blanket and was eating the food that was being handed out. A neighbourhood grill-a-thon, probably. Now that I think about it, that day was probably the last time I ever saw Drizella eat a hamburger. She looked so healthy and young..."
"So your father-in-law was talking to mother. He was talking about his grand-kids, about oh how perfect Prince and Cinderella's three darlings are. She didn't even know you had kids. Those are her step-grandchildren, Cinderella. Mother thought she was hallucinating and told your father-in-law that she 'had to run'. And she did. She ran all the way home. When she got home, she collapsed. She had a heart attack."
"What the hell?! Is she alive?" I cried, shocked.
"Calm your tits. Of course she is," Anastasia scoffed. "We took her to the hospital and when she woke up, she was in a state of... peace? I dunno. She just doesn't talk much any more."
I furrowed my eyebrows, and not just because of Anastsia's vulgar language. I wouldn't have thought that step-mother would care... She hated me, after all.
"Mrow."
I looked down to see blessed old Lucifer. He shuffled past me and started eating slowly out of his food dish. Poor Lucifer. He had many patches of white-his eyebrows, tail, paws and some other areas were wispy and white. He moved about slowly. He was obviously close to dying.
"Oh, Lucifer," I muttered, crouching down to stroke his head, "I didn't know that everything would crumble apart the moment I left."
"Cinderella?"
"Robbie! Hey!" It was Robbie Platt. "So I guess you and Drizella are getting along?"
He smiled shyly. "Looks like it."
"Gonna pop the question soon?" I whispered with a wink.
Robbie looked uncomfortable. "I'm going to... But with the bulimia and everything going on with her mother, I just don't want to stress her right now."
I nodded. "Understandable. Hey, do you know where Anastasia's boyfriend is? Scott Raccoon or something?"
Robbie laughed. "Scotty Beaver? Well he hangs out at Barney's salon and tattoo place a bunch. Try checking there."
"Thanks! I have yet to meet him. What does he look like?"
"He's a little pudgy, black, brown eyes, white hair," Robbie explained, lowering his voice as Anastasia hovered nearby.
"Thanks. I'll catch you later, then. Bye, Anastasia. Bye, Drizella! Bye, Lucifer."
I took a taxi over to the salon and tattoo place. When I got there, I didn't see anyone at all, so I waited around. I started to get impatient, so I browsed the shop a bit. I passed by a mirror as I was looking around. I returned to the mirror and started self-consciously fixing my makeup. I pulled my skin taunt, but the lines of age were still there. Oh, hell, I wasn't getting any younger.
When a man finally walked in, I knew it had to be Scotty. He fit Robbie's description perfectly. I just hadn't expected him to be so old.
"Hi," I said boldly, walking up to him.
"Hello?" He blinked at me, as if trying to recall who I was.
"I'm Anastasia's step-sister," I explained cheerily.
"Oh!" He croaked. His voice was cracked with age. "Yes, yes! Anastasia is splendid. She is very pleasuring." He grinned mischievously at me.
I gave him a blank stare.
"Like, she's good at fu-"
"I got it, thanks," I snapped at him. Who knew Anastasia would descend to such a low?
I gasped when the next person walked in. He was dressed the way I saw him last-like a turd. His eyes glowed menacingly, though, and he looked older.
"Holy crap, Talan?"
"Cind! It's been forever!" Talan cried and pulled me into a hug. "God, you look great!" He gave me the once over, his eyes lingering a little too long over my chest.
"Yeah, thanks, I've been dealing with a lot of stuff lately," I said, folding my arms over my boobs.
"So, how are you? I heard you got married to the prince," Talan said, and I could hear a touch of spite in his voice.
"Yeah, we have three kids now. Andy, the oldest, and our twins Sandy and Buzz."
"Wow... And here I am, a single stylist!" He joked, but his eyes were looking at me meaningfully.
"You can't say I didn't give you a chance," I said sternly.
"I sure screwed things up, didn't I?" He said with a laugh, but again, his tone formed a question.
"You sure did all right. I love Prince. He's the best."
Talan cringed as I said 'I love Prince'. "Cool, cool... Not much has happened in my life... I became a clothing stylist. Well, I'm a werewolf, too."
"WHAT THE HELL?" I took a step back. "When were you planning on telling me that?!"
"It's not like I'm going to jump out and bite you," Talan said, but he looked like he wanted to. "I was turned into one involuntarily... I can't change back now."
There wasn't much I wanted to say to him. I had never truly forgiven him for what he had done to me all those years ago.
"Cinderella," Talan said seriously, as if reading my thoughts, "I'm really sorry for all that I did. But I've changed. You can't hold something I did in high school against me. I've grown. I really have. I'm sorry. I was in love with you for all of our high school years."
I sighed as dead emotions were stirred up inside me again. "Talan, it's never going to happen. I'm glad it didn't."
"I'm not trying to go out with you. I just want you to know that I never tried to make the move on you because you were... you still are... way out of my league. I thought that if I dated your step-sister, I would somehow get closer to you. I thought that I would make you jealous. I was stupid. I'm sorry."
"You sure were stupid," I agreed, and Talan nodded his head in shame, "But I don't think you're stupid now. Well, maybe a little bit. But not as much. So, I forgive you I guess."
Talan's face lit up. "I want us to stay friends, Cind. I miss you. I miss hanging out with you all the time and swapping secrets."
"I miss you too," I said. It was the truth. I had shared a lot with Talan.
"Look, are you guys just going to fart around all day or are you a paying customer?"
I turned to find myself face to face with Medina Hoit. "Medina! Figures you would work here!"
She smirked at me. I noticed her skin was covered with tattoos. "Yeah, figures. I'm a wacky woman, after all."
I remembered how Medina was rumored to be a druggie. It was believable. "You like my tats?" Medina said and I shook myself from my reverie.
I had never really been a fan of tattoos. I thought that only druggies, hippies, and fifty year old men got them. But Medina had a very cool looking moon tattoo on her shoulder that I particularly liked. Her other tattoos were only okay. "Yeah. Especially the moon one."
"Do you want a tattoo? Special today, two for the price of one."
I panicked a little, trying to imagine what this would mean. Medina stared blankly at me, waiting for a response. Behind her, I could see tattoo designs. Was I a bad person for wanting a tattoo? No, lots of people got them. I wouldn't get a ridiculous tattoo, either. Just some pretty ones. "Oh, sure, why not?"
"Okay, what do you want?" Medina asked.
"Uh, not sure. Give me a moment." I looked over sheets of tattoo designs before finally coming across two that I liked. I told Medina which ones I wanted and where.
"Well, ya gotta strip down," Medina said, taking me into a side room.
"Strip down?!"
"And tie your hair back. Strip down to your undies, go on now. How else am I supposed to give you a tattoo?"
I pulled my hair back using a hair elastic that Medina provided, and pulled my clothing off quickly. "This is ridiculous," I complained, "Why do I need to take my pants off? I'm not getting a tattoo that low."
"Entertainment purposes," Medina chuckled, whisking my clothes off before I could object.
"Fine," I said, sitting down in the tattoo chair. I didn't have anything special on-just a blue bra and light blue underwear. To my intense embarrassment, Talan walked in with Girbits!
"Okay, sweetie, stay still," Medina commanded, coming back into the room.
"Oh, hello there Cinderella," Girbits said and I felt dirty all over.
"Turn your eyes away, boys, or I'll rip your balls off," I growled with annoyance.
They chuckled and looked away, but I saw Talan's eyes sliding towards me once.
"Mm-hmm, here we go," Medina said, taking the inking machine in her hand.
"Other arm, Medina!" I cried as Medina lowered the device to my right arm.
"Gotcha. Oh, boys, shoo already! Look up pictures of nude females online to satisfy your needs, not my customer!"
My face burned as Girbits and Talan left the room, snickering to each other.
After I had gotten my tattoos, I shrugged on my clothes in a hurry to leave. After I finished paying Medina, Talan came up behind me. "Those are some nice tattoos. What does the one on your neck mean?"
I sighed. "Long story. I have to run. Here, Talan," I said, pulling out my phone, "What's your number? We can meet up later and I'll tell you all about it."
After exchanging numbers, we hugged one last time. "I'll catch you later, Cind?"
"Catch you later, Talan."
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