More than anything I wanted to go to a ball. Daddy would've let me go-; but he wasn't here. And he wasn't coming back. That much I knew. Of course, I realized Petunia was treated better than I was… How couldn't I? She had been for almost as long as I could remember. Ever since that day… Father was supposed to be going on a business trip. I remember he looked so handsome, sitting there atop his midnight mare. I rode to the end of the rode on my new horse to see him off, as I always did. Petunia was probably practicing singing. When I'd asked Daddy why anyone would want to practice singing like that, He'd laughed and told me not everyone could sing as well as I could. That was around the time I started to notice several differences between Petty and I. I believe I was about seven or eight. I'd always been "Daddy's girl" and my sister was my mother's "Little Doll". I loved animals of all shapes and sizes, while Petunia despised them. Petunia looked more like my father's horse than any of our relatives, while I, with my crimson locks and delicate features, I favored my father's sister. Aunt Rose. I remember that Daddy would talk about her all the time, constantly reminding me how sweet and honest she was, how I looked so like she did! Oh, how I favored her.

                   Except for my eyes. My eyes… two glimmering emeralds taking in the world and all its beauty silently. My eyes were all my own. At least, I didn't know who I'd inherited them from.

                   Well, on that day, as I watched my father ride away gallantly, I sensed, rather than saw, that something was not quite right. Suddenly, with out warning, he slumped over in his saddle, and then fell to the ground with a thud and a sickening crack. I found out from the doctors later that he'd broken his neck; there was no way he could have possibly survived. I just remember screaming and crying… and not speaking for days after they'd lowered that box into the ground. The finality of covering my father with fresh earth cracked like a whip, and I began to see changes in my mother, and our household, after only a matter of days.

I guess we'd been spoiled, Petunia and I, for, the first time I had to dust the library, I was shocked. But, chores gradually became commonplace for me, and soon I was no longer even a member of the family. It's amazing how a hard-working, good-natured girl can sink into the shadows, ignored until she's needed to do something else. I was a simple scullery maid to them, nothing more. Well, actually, I exaggerate. I was more. Much more. I was cook, I was the washer of clothing, I was Petunia's dressing maid… I was a slave.

          They moved me to the smallest room in the house, not much more than a drafty closet above the attic. It had all the luxuries of a prison…a hard, lumpy mattress, a crumbling fireplace, and a chamber pot. Once a day a small bowl of burned porridge and soggy bread was set outside of my door. By whom, I wasn't positive. Maybe it was one of the scullery maids, who felt sorry for me.

          Even the dogs ate better than I did, of which I cannot complain, for it was my choosing. Every afternoon, I would venture the mile down the road to the butcher, and he would donate his scraps of meat. When I think about it, maybe it was a bit silly of me to feed the dogs better than I when I was starving… But it didn't matter to me then. I just couldn't bear to see them go hungry.

          I remember one afternoon in particular. How could I forget it? It was the day that changed my destiny forever… the day magic touched my life. One of the kings messengers rapped on the door, and, giving me a small smile of pity when he noticed my tattered rags, unrolled his scroll.

HERE YE! HERE YE! BY ROYAL DECREE OF THE KING, EVERY MAIDEN IN THE LAND SHALL BE INVITED TO ATTEND THE ROYAL BALL FOR HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, PRINCE JAMES.

          He continued, of course, but I was no longer paying attention. I hadn't been listening to the little bald man since the word 'ball' had been uttered from his toothless mouth. Of course, I listened to the details, if only barely, how the ball would last three nights, the first two to be a masquerade… etcetera. I was too busy envisioning myself spinning about the ballroom in a beautiful gown, dancing on the arm of a dashing mad. But as always, I wasn't even aloud to dream in peace.

          "You're not letting HER go, are you mother?" Petunia bellowed, minutes after she heard the news.

          "I don't see why not, if she finishes her chores and finds a gown." My mother smiled her cold smile, then turned and ascended the stairs. "Come Petunia, you must get ready, dear."

          I smiled to myself. My mother had obviously thought she'd won, but, little did she know that I did have a dress. A marvelous dress that had belonged to my aunt. Finishing my chores would be no problem, it never was, and I started immediately.

          By some miracle I finished my chores much earlier than usual, and hurried to my room with two large tubs of water, careful not to slosh any over the edges. I knew I'd have to bathe before going; there was no question about it, for I was covered in dirt and grime. With a chunk of hard, dry lye soap, I scrubbed furiously until my elbows and knees were pink, and set to work on my hair. It was hard work, and I had to empty the dirty water from the tubs twice, but I finished, finally. I had Suzie, an eager-to-please scullery maid tighten my aunt's corset for me and help me into the dress. She set my hair into lovely ringlets atop my head, and for the first time in my life, I felt beautiful. Having no circlet or Tiara to wear, we made due with a woven chain of small white flowers.

          All too soon, I heard my sister and mother readying to depart, and I felt my nerves begin to get the better of me. What would they say? Would they really let me go as they'd said they would? I hurried downstairs, trying to contain my smile.

          Petunia looked at me in horror, as if she'd been slapped.

          "Oh, Petty!" I gushed, lying through my teeth, "You look beautiful!" actually, she looked like a horse put on a wig and rouge, then tried to stuff itself in a dress that just didn't fit.

          She gave me a weak smile, sipping her wine. "As do you-oh…" My sister's lip curled into an ugly sneer, and I watched slow motion as the wine glass slipped out of her hand and flew forward, splashing across the front of my dress and leaving an ugly maroon stain down the front.

          "I expect this mess to be cleaned when I return." My mother said simply, speaking to me. "Come Petunia, we don't want to be late. Pity Lily has to miss it."