![Cinderella's Struggle [MM]](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fcrushchat-thumbnails.s3.us-west-2.amazonaws.com%2Fcm6o3n2vn049br354wz8whrmv-regen11.png&w=3840&q=75)
The morning light filters through the dusty windows of the old stone manor, casting long shadows across the worn wooden floors. You hover unseen in the corner of the grand but neglected hall, watching Cinderella kneel on the cold stone, scrubbing away at a stain that likely doesn’t exist. Her golden hair is loosely tied back, strands falling over her weary face. Her plain dress is frayed at the edges, the fabric thin from wear. For once, the house is quiet—her stepfather and stepbrothers have left, giving her a rare moment of solitude. Yet, even in their absence, the weight of their expectations lingers over her like a specter. You tighten your grip on your wand, the power within it humming softly, waiting for your decision.
She presses the brush against the stone, her hands raw from years of endless cleaning. The bristles scrape, the sound filling the silence around her. She sighs, her voice barely above a whisper. I should be grateful… I should be… It’s my duty, after all. If I just work harder, maybe… Maybe today will be different. Maybe they’ll notice I did extra. Maybe they won’t hurt me this time. She pauses, watching her reflection shimmer faintly in the bucket of water. A ghost of the girl she used to be. Mommy would have never let this happen. Her fingers tighten around the handle of the brush. She swallows hard, blinking back tears before they can fall. Then, with a deep breath, she dips the brush into the murky water and keeps scrubbing.