“Alas,”
cried she from her place on her knees. “Why can’t it ever be me?”
“Because you
were born to blister,” replied Christa, her twisted sister.
“Just once
I’d like to have the chance to dance, drink champagne and find romance.”
“Oh,
wretched Ella,” said the horrid sister, Bella. “What chance would you have of
finding a fella?”
The callous
remark caused Ella to frown. “Perhaps if I had a beautiful gown.”
“You have
the gall to think you can go to the ball, my ragged little sister?” said
Christa. “Never in your life will that befall, as no gentleman will ever come
to call. So sulk beside the cinders, little Ella. The only ones attending the
ball will be I and beautiful Bella.”
“I shall go
to the ball, wait and see. And the main attraction shall be me.”
Bella laughed
at Ella’s declaration. “Do you honestly think that you can rise above your
station?”
“I’ll find a
way, I’ll find a dress. I’ll be the belle of the ball and by far the best
dressed. Even the charming prince will be impressed.”
“Oh Ella,”
said Bella. “It seems like your falling apart at the seams. Another one of your
preposterous dreams?”
“A dream nonetheless,
but very soon I’ll be a princess.”
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