So, this is the finale of Cindy’s Diary. It’s a tad bit longer than the others, but I hope you enjoy it.
Diary, I want you to know that as I fill in this entry, my face is like ^_^ the whole time!! I’m doing cartwheels!!! (In my mind, of course) Also, I will be walking down an aisle in a couple of minutes!!! And not just any aisle! I’m getting married!!!!!
Okay. *deep breath* Lemme backtrack.
After the ball, life went on as usual. Well, usual for me though. I was quite content with my one night of ecstasy, regardless of how abruptly it had ended. Cleaning, cooking, and all those other insufferable chores didn’t seem so hectic anymore. Didn’t even mind the talking mice anymore. There was a melody in my heart I thought had died along with my father.
Of course, I had to hide my new-found cheer from ‘them’ lest I be questioned. I do NOT do well under pressure. But, dumb and dumber weren’t helping. They kept going on and on about how much fun they’d had at the ball whenever I was tending to them. I’m guessing in an effort to agitate me. I almost burst out laughing on a particular day when they were having a ludicrous argument about which one of them Duro favoured more. And when they cursed the girl he danced with all night (the light was dim and they were all the way at the back, so they didn’t get a clear view of her), I did my best to hold back a smile.
Mother, on the other hand, had become more withdrawn after the party. You see, the hag had her hopes set on hitching one of her hatchlings to the billionaire’s son. Ha! Such misguided delusions. If she’d bothered to ask me, ‘I’ could’ve told her it wasn’t gonna happen. Save her the emotional torture. Anyway, imagine my surprise when she returned from town smiling. Not at me, of course, but actually smiling. I nearly choked on air when she called up the stairs for the two, and announced “You two have a chance to redeem yourselves!”
Remember the slipper I forgot at the billionaire’s ball? Well, Duro found it. Apparently, he’d tried to run after me when I fled the night of the ball. And now, he was searching for the owner. He’d already been through more than half the girls in our area, and was on his way to the house. The three stooges were beside themselves with excitement. I didn’t understand why. Duro was making girls try on the slipper. Their feet would give giants a run for their money.
And then diary, it hit me. Duro was bringing my slipper back! God bless his obviously jobless heart. My spirit soared at the prospect of my slippers being reunited. I had been quite devastated when I realised I’d lost part of the only thing I’d been allowed to keep from that night. I hadn’t realised I was grinning from ear-to-ear. And, as I looked at my step-mother, I saw an evil spark in her eye. She may not have realised I was at the ball, but she damn well knew I stood a better chance than those disappointments. I was sentenced to an afternoon of chores in the attic.
I had resigned to my fate when I heard Duro pull up with the convoy he had deemed necessary in his task. I sat by the locked attic door and listened to the commotion downstairs. From what I could hear, they weren’t having a pleasant time trying on the slippers. There were grunts and groans, and then finally a crash, followed by someone shouting “The slipper!”. I couldn’t take anymore. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the master key I’d had made in preparation for when I decided to run away, and unlocked the door. Taking the stairs one three at a time as I rushed to the side of my slipper.
Diary, seeing the pieces of shattered glass on the floor killed me inside. Honestly, I became completely unaware of my surroundings and just sank to the floor. Kneeling, I carefully gathered the shards of glass and wondered what I was going to do with the other slipper now. I glanced up from the floor. They were all staring at me. Duro, his p, the mother, and her daughters. Apparently, I had been thinking out loud. I didn’t even care anymore. I just wanted my slipper fixed.
And then Duro recognised me. He knelt next to me, took my face in his hands, and looked into my eyes. All he said was “It’s you.”.
And now, here I am. About to get married to a billionaire! Well, a billionaire’s son but that’s just technicalities. I know I don’t know him that well, and we just met and all that, but think about it. What other options do I have? I’m being offered a platinum deal here. I’d have to be empty upstairs to pass it up. Empty upstairs, I am not.
Well diary, I have to go. It’s time. Maybe I’ll get a hang of this marriage thing. How hard can it really be? If it doesn’t work out, I have a HUGE divorce settlement to look forward to.
Ever hopeful, Cindy