Four years old with my back to the door

All I could hear was the family war

"You shouldn't treat her like this!" Lady Tremaine yelled at her husband. "It's not her fault she died!"

"If she wouldn't have been playing in the road, it wouldn't have happened!" he yelled back at her, drunk yet again.

The shouting match continued, and the four year old blonde sat with her back against her parents' door. She could the argument, the same one they always had. It was always about her mother, and she couldn't understand what she had done wrong. Her father had stopped giving attention to her entirely since the funeral. She was lucky to get a kind stepmother, unlike the ones in the fairy tales.

She stuck up for her when her father got like this. He blamed her for his wife's death. She had run into the road after one of her toys, she couldn't recall which one, and a carriage had come barreling down the road. Her mother had pushed her out of the way, but in her sacrifice was crushed under the horses' hooves. Cinderella had seen the whole thing, and often recalled it in her nightmares.

Her father had been heartbroken understandably, but had remarried in the hope that Cinderella would have a mother. Lady Tremaine was kind, as were her two daughters, and they got on marvelously. But it seemed her father never quite got over his grief. He began to resent his daughter, convincing himself that it was her fault his wife was dead. He knew, deep down of course, that this wasn't true, but it was so much easier to blame someone.

The further he sank into depression, the more withdrawn he became, until the girl only interacted with her stepfamily. Desperate for a way to deal with the crushing sadness, he turned to drink. Not a lot at first, just enough to dull the pain. But it gradually grew worse, until eventually he just got drunk. It was then the argument started, and it always woke her.

Cinderella sat outside her parents' bedroom door until she heard her father's voice taper off into snores. Cautiously, for she feared her father when he got like that, she nudged open the door. Her stepmother was sitting on the edge of the bed, her father passed out beside her. Her head was in her hands, her shoulders stooped in defeat.

"Mommy?" she whispered, making sure not to wake the man.

The older woman whipped toward her, emerald eyes latching onto baby blue. She saw the blonde head peeping around the door, and motioned for her to enter. Doing so, she crawled into her lap.

"Mommy, why does Daddy hate me?"

She felt her stepmother tense and looked up at her. The woman sighed, and cupped her cheek.

"He doesn't hate you, Cinderella. He's just sad and confused. He misses your mother terribly."

"Well, so do I," the child admitted. "But we've got you now. Why isn't he happy?"

"I don't know, dear. I don't know." Cinderella yawned, and the older woman smiled down at her. "Go on, now. Off to bed."

She watched the child go with a heavy heart, hoping she could get her husband to see reason.

Your selfish hands always expecting more

Am I your child or just a charity ward?

"Get out!" Lord Tremaine roared at a six year old Cinderella.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, she ran straight to her stepmother, who had heard and come running. The child had only gone in to tell her father dinner was ready. Seeing her, he flew into a rage, breaking anything not nailed down and successfully terrifying her. She buried her face in the older woman's stomach, letting the tears soak into the purple fabric. Startled, she looked up at her husband with a steely glare.

"It's all right, darling. Shhh," she said, never looking away from the man.

"All right?! She killed her mother! She deserves to be punished!"

With that he ripped the girl away from his wife. She screamed, and Lady Tremaine tried to reach for her, but found herself forcefully shoved into the nearest wall. The breath was knocked out of her, and she watched through a haze, horrified, as the man she married beat his child. Cinderella screamed and sobbed, frantically trying to get away. All that got her was a tighter grip on her arm.

"Daddy! Daddy! Please stop! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she screamed over and over, the words having no effect on the man in a drunken rage.

"Edmund!" Lady Tremaine screamed in a desperate attempt to get him to stop. He whirled to face her, Cinderella still in his grip. "Please," she whispered with tears in her eyes.

Seeming to realize what he had done, he let go of the girl, who ran straight to the woman. Bruises were already beginning to form, and his handprints were clearly visible. Eyes wide, he stumbled back into his office and slammed the door. Seconds later, the lock clicked into place.

"W-why does he h-h-hate me?!" Cinderella sobbed out.

"I don't know, darling. I don't know," the older woman said as she cradled her close.

You have a hollowed out heart

But it's heavy in your chest

I try so hard to fight it but it's hopeless

Hopeless

You're hopeless

Cinderella steered clear of her father, giving him a wide berth. She wouldn't even go in the same wing of the house as him. Her stepmother didn't argue, believing it to be for the best. If he didn't see her, he wouldn't hurt her, right? Wrong.

One night, when he was so drunk he could barely walk, he went into Cinderella's room. Hearing the door shut, she woke up and rubbed her eyes, trying to find the source of the noise. She could just make out the silhouette at the end of her bed. Without thinking, she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Daddy?"

The last thing she remembered was his fist as it connected with her cheek. She woke up the next morning on the floor in an unusual and painful position. She tried to stand, but found herself unable. She cried out until her stepmother came in. Seeing the child crumpled on the floor like a rag doll, she rushed over and lifted her onto the bed.

"Cinderella, what happened?!" she asked, though she feared she already knew.

"Daddy came in last night. He hit me, and that's all I remember."

Lady Tremaine saw the hideous bruise that colored one cheek. It was swollen, and there was a small cut near her mouth from his ring. After she had tended to that, she began looking for other bruises. There were many, and several other cuts as well, which were quickly treated.

"Will he ever stop?"

"I hope so."

Oh, father please, father

I'd love to leave you alone

But I can't let you go

Oh, father please, father

Put the bottle down

For the love of a daughter

Cinderella, at ten years old, was the spitting image of her mother. She was blossoming, growing more beautiful every day. And Edmund hated her for it. It should have been her that died, not his beautiful Laura. When he would catch the girl alone, he would beat her more fiercely than he had in the past.

He never broke any bones though. Oh no, that would be too obvious to the outside world. No, he made sure just to leave cuts and bruises, things easily hidden by clothes and makeup. Once, he even sheared off her hair. Nothing stopped him anymore.

When he hit her, all he could feel was euphoria. It was meant to be this way. She deserved to be punished. She was a murderess. He wished she had never been born.

For her part, Cinderella didn't know what to believe. Her stepmother told her one thing, her father another. Her heart was at war with itself. She loved her stepmother with every fiber of her being, but she couldn't hate her father. She still remembered the kind man he had once been, and that alone made a small fraction of her heart continue to love him.

She knew her stepmother begged him to stop drinking, but he never listened. Once, she made the mistake of asking him.

"Father, please! Stop drinking! I know this isn't your doing, it's the alcohol!" she pleaded desperately as he kicked her.

"Shut up! You know nothing! I wish you had never been born!"

She grew silent, the world around her fading as her heart shattered. He didn't, couldn't, mean that. Chancing a look at his face, closed off and hard as stone, she knew he had been serious. She knew, in that instant, that it was hopeless to pine for something she'd never receive. She knew then he'd never love her.

Oh

It's been five years

Since we've spoken last

And you can't take back

What we never had

They didn't speak or see each other. Lady Tremaine made sure of that. She had gotten the girl a dog, and it growled whenever her father tried to approach.

Oh, I can be manipulated

Only so many times

Before even I love you

Starts to sound like a lie

Sometimes, though she hated herself for it, Cinderella sat in her room and wondered if anyone truly loved her. She immediately felt guilty, knowing her stepmother and stepsisters did, but years of abuse were making her question everything.

You have a hollowed out heart

But it's heavy in your chest

I try so hard to fight it but it's hopeless

Hopeless

You're hopeless

Oh, father please, father

I'd love to leave you alone

But I can't let you go

Oh, father please, father

Put the bottle down

For the love of a daughter

Cinderella knew she should hate him. Lady Tremaine knew she should divorce him. Neither could bring themselves to do it. They loved him too much.

Don't you remember

I'm your baby girl

How could you push me out of your world

Lie to your flesh and blood

Put your hands on the ones that you swore you loved

Late one night, Edmund managed to get passed Bruno, Cinderella's dog. He crept into her room and watched as she slept. Then, slowly, so he wouldn't wake her, and drew out a knife. He accidentally bumped the bed as he got into position, and she woke up. Seeing him standing over and holding a knife, she screamed.

It woke Lady Tremaine, and she quickly got up and went to see what had happened. She never expected to see her husband standing over his daughter with a knife.

"Edmund!" she screamed, absolutely terrified.

He couldn't hear her, the only sound that registered to him was the blood as it pounded in his ears. He stabbed downward, narrowly missing the girl as she rolled out of the way. It didn't deter him, and he simply tried again. Thinking quickly, Lady Tremaine spotted a chair beside the vanity and picked it up, hitting him with all her strength. He froze, and turned slowly to face her.

His eyes were wild, and she gulped in fear. She took a step backwards as he began to advance. Her back soon pressed against the door, and before she could open it he was on her. Cinderella sat curled up in a corner as he began to beat his wife, desperately looking for something to make him stop. She heard something crack, and her stepmother screamed in agony.

Without stopping to think about it, she jumped on his back. Caught off-guard, he stumbled back and away from his wife, who was crying and cradling her left wrist close to her body. Edmund soon realized what the extra weight was, and tried to shake her off. In his hurry, he didn't notice he was backing toward the open window. Cinderella felt the cool breeze against her back, detached herself from him.

Drunk as usual, he tripped over her and fell backwards, straight out the window. Cautiously, both women looked out. He lay dead on the ground below, his neck having snapped as he landed.

"Oh, Father," Cinderella whispered, a few tears leaking out of her eyes.

"Oh Edmund, if only you'd have never started drinking," Lady Tremaine whispered sadly. Cinderella laid her head on her stepmother's good shoulder as they both looked down upon the man they loved.

Don't you remember

I'm your baby girl

How could you throw me right out of your world

So young when the pain had begun

Now forever afraid of being loved

Oh, father please, father

I'd love to leave you alone

But I can't let you go

Oh, father please, father

Put the bottle down

For the love of a daughter

For the love of a daughter