This is the very beginning of a story I've been writing. It's rough, but I wanted some input before I went any further. I've changed a bit and added some. Tell me what you think!


I was wearing the pretty princess dress, yet again.
The dress was pale blue and silky. It tapered around my waist and flowed out into a wide sweeping skirt. The whole dress was flecked with tiny sparkling beads that would shimmer in the soft lighting.

My hair was done up in soft curls pinned at the back of my head. There were small pearls in my ears that match the thin pearl necklace that was around my throat. I was wearing makeup, for once. I was a vision of beauty.

It was awful.
Ugh, every time I have to go through this, the same thoughts go through my head. The torture, the embarrassment, the monotony. Why am I doing this? What could possibly be worth this? And then I think of Sal, and the promise I made him.

At the time, it didn’t seem so horrendous. One night a year, I would make an effort to look my best. I would wear the dress he bought me— which always makes me cringe to think how much of his tiny salary went to the ghastly thing. I would do my hair nice, I would wear jewelry and heels and the whole shebang. At the time, I didn’t think it was much to ask of me, coming from the man who had raised me like a daughter. At the time.

Well, after having gone through the experience a few times before, I was ready to call it quits. Walking down that small hallway, my dress billowing around me, the only thing that stopped me from turning tail and running back to my room was Sal. Picturing the disappointment on his face. I couldn’t do that to him. He was too good and deserved more than that from me. So, I set my jaw and kept walking, bracing myself for a monstrosity of an evening.

I opened the door a crack and peeked in. The dining hall was immaculate. Sparkling chandeliers, huge elegantly set tables, fine furnishings, the works. People were everywhere, all dressed up, fancy and polished. Across the long room from me was a grand sweeping staircase where the new students and their families were coming in. It was the perfect place for a fairytale entrance. Many of the girls seemed reluctant to leave the spotlight of the steps.

I smirked. Thank god I didn’t have to come in from there. People would have thought I was a student, poised for a new year here at Brighton Academy. I didn’t think I could stand the shame.

Instead I crept in through from the kitchen door, trying to be invisible. Unfortunately, ball gowns aren’t exactly made to be discreet. People had to move aside as I pushed my way along the wall. Then they would stop and stare at my glittery gown as I went by, holding my skirts up so that I wouldn’t trip. I gritted my teeth. It’s not like I was the only one in a fancy dress, but people always seemed to fixate on me, like I was some kind of anomaly. I wanted to turn and shout at them. ‘Yup, that’s right. I’m Cinderella. Stop staring or I’ll yank off my glass slipper and chuck it at you!’ God, people are dumb.

Some whispered as I slipped by, others even pointed! My cheeks burned, but I tried to ignore them. Any other day I could handle the attention, ward it off. But not tonight, with so many stares and dressed as I was. I looked like every other girl here, all of whom were eager for any attention thrown there way. That’s why people dress like this, isn’t it? To show off? Ew, gag me. I’m in a huge ball gown! Nobody dresses like this! Shouldn’t they all feel sorry for me?! But no, sadly, I get awe. The irony.

With a huge relief, I spotted my family. Well, not my actual family, but Sal and the rest of the kitchen staff. I don’t have any real family, but they’re close enough. Better, even.

They were all standing near the back wall, dressed in simple coats and plain dresses. Every one from the school is invited to the Start of Year Celebration Ball. Students, their families, the teachers, and all of the school staff. Formal attire is expected of everyone, but Sal decided to push my promise to him above and beyond with the fluffy dress he got me. I looked like a marshmallow peep princess. It was so unfair.

Sal spotted me as I hurried over. His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “You look wonderful, Bun”, he said, calling me by his special nickname, “Absolutely wonderful.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Sal. You know I’m going to get you for this.”

He laughed. “You always do, Bun. Still, it’s worth it. You look like royalty.”

I grimaced.
Roma came to join us from his other side, dressed in her finest, meaning a very old, very plain black dress. I sighed with envy, trying to ignore the shimmering poof wrapped around me. She put an arm around my shoulders and chuckled. “Oh, let her alone Sal. You know how much Kylar hates these things.” She smiled at me and winked. “Personally, I’ve quite enjoyed the balls since you started coming. It’s
a hoot to see the looks on those boys’ faces when the girl of their dreams sits down with the hired help.”

I rolled my eyes. Roma loved to poke fun at the attention I got. But she was right about one thing. People were always shocked when I joined the staff table, like it was beneath me or some crap. Several girls were passing us, ogling my proximity to ‘the help’. I made faces at them. They looked scandalized and hurried away. Roma roared with laughter.

Every year, Brighton School has a Welcome Ball for incoming students and their parents. Brighton has a reputation as one of the finest boarding schools on the East Coast and loves to prove that with the ball. It’s like a mini debutant parade, with all of the fanciest blue bloods of society shoved into one room. The dining hall is done up spectacularly with crystal chandeliers and huge tables of elaborate dishes and fancy food.
The food is provided by the school’s ‘widely accredited chefs’, namely Sal and his team of cooks. Sal is an amazing cook and has been working at Brighton for thirty years. He now runs the kitchen. Needless to say the buffet at the ball was incredible; a hundred of his finest meals. We had been preparing for this night for a month.

I’m not a cook. I’m not even allowed to help with the salads. Culinary skills are just beyond my grasp, which was apparent from an early age. Sal says it takes a certain kind of patience, which I have none of. He doesn’t let me near an oven. Instead, I spent the past month helping with table settings and picking up order after order of all of the extra food Sal needed for tonight.

I’ve been living at Brighton school nearly my whole life, but was only just recently old enough to officially have a job here. Sal has been taking care of me since I was four, which is when he found me. It was kind of a stray puppy incident.
Sal had been picking up an order from town, which was his job at the time, when he found me sitting by myself in the alley behind the store, playing with a bottle cap I had found there. He brought me to the police station, but no one ever came to pick me up. I stayed with Sal for a few weeks while they tried to find my parents. When they finally gave up and decided to ship me off to an orphanage, Sal stepped in and offered to adopt me. I’ve been living with him ever since.

I had a unique upbringing, living at a boarding school my whole life. The staff here became my family and the whole school’s grounds became my home. I was home schooled until I was eleven and taught myself on a computer course after that. I got my GED when I was fifteen. Now I am seventeen and I work on the staff with Sal. He pushed the college idea for a while, but I wasn’t interested so he gave up. The classroom environment isn’t really my thing.
I prefer to learn on my own and I am perfectly happy where I am for now. Brighton is an extremely stuck up place and I can’t stand the high society lowlifes who go here, but I love Sal and I love my home.


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“I can’t take much more of this, Sal. Will you be mad if I head in early?”

He chuckled again. “No, Bun. I think you’ve done your time. Have a good night’s sleep.” He kissed me on the forehead. I smiled and left quickly. The sooner the better.

I tried to slip unnoticed through the back of the room again, but it was difficult when you are surrounded by a two foot radius of petticoat. I sped up to reach the kitchen doors more quickly.

As I made it through the side door, I started to run but collided with something very solid a second later. I tumbled backwards and fell to the floor. Curse those stupid high heels for making me clumsy.
“Oh,” I huffed.
Luckily, the layers of poof in my dress made for a cushy landing. I guess they have some use. Looking up from the ground, I saw someone standing over me. The wall I had hit turned out to be a boy. A very tall boy. Or maybe it was just my angle from the ground. We were the only two in the otherwise deserted hallway. He was looking down at me in surprise.

“Ah- here, let me help you,” he said, recovering from the shock of my entrance. He reached down to me and grasped my forearms, pulling me up before I could object. He set me back on my feet in front of him.

We locked eyes, and I was frozen for a moment, staring into his. They were a very dark brown, almost black, but in the hushed light of the hallway, they looked bright somehow. It was a strange sight. I was caught up in them for a second, and then I blinked and it was gone.
“Umm… thanks,” I said. He didn’t answer. He just stared into my eyes. His were so gentle. He was still grasping my forearms, holding me there. I yanked myself out of his grip and took a step back. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to leave very badly, to escape from this hallway and this boy.

“Bye,” I said to him and hurried past towards the kitchen. He didn’t respond, didn’t even turn around when I left. He kept facing the same way staring at the place I had left. I raced back down the hallway.