Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Not So Cinderella

 My name is Cinderella. I know it’s an unusual name, even though every person in the world has heard it. You might be thinking that it’s just a nickname but unfortunately it’s the real deal. Just like the Disney princess.
      Some people think that this would be an awesome name to have. Mostly they think this because people think that because you’re named after a fictional princess that you will have the same life that she has. The thing people fail to see is that you've got very big shoes to fill. I’d much rather be named Sue or something simple. The pressure can be so much that some people live the exact opposite lives than that of what is expected.
      At the age of 8, I decided that the expectations people had of me were just too much for me to take. I started acting out, just little things at first but they eventually grew. The expectations lowered and my life became more manageable but I was already in too deep.
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       The string of unusual crimes that happened these past weeks all seem to be connected to the murder that happened last night. The thing about the murder and crimes is that in all my years on the force I have never seen anything committed based on a Disney story. The killer obviously has something against Disney but I have no idea why.
       I got a lead when I was at an old time restaurant in Coyoteville about a week ago. It was a long shot but I figured any progress was better than nothing.
       I was just sitting there when I overheard a couple in the booth behind me talking.
       “You know it’s her. She’s been strange ever since she was a little girl.” The older man was talking to his wife about what seemed to be a waitress that was behind the bar.
       “She’s been through a lot in her life. Give the girl a break. You don’t know that she did anything.” The elderly woman seemed to have a motherly connection to this waitress.
       “Yes, but that girl is crazy, even after she changed her name.”
       “Well you know the pressure she felt growing up. Her poor mother would roll over in her grave if she knew what her sweet Cinderella has turned into.”
       That was all I needed to hear, I finally had a clue that would point out why the killer would hate Disney. I’ve never met a person named after a Disney princess or character for that matter, but I think that it would be neat to have such a name. I couldn't imagine changing it!
       I decided I’d watch her before approaching. I’d been watching her for about a week an there is nothing particularly unusual about her except for the fact that she rarely talks to anybody. She works and then goes straight home. I don’t know why people would suspect her. I can at least talk to her and see if she knows anything about the strange happenings around here. 
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       I noticed that old detective following me within the first hour. It makes me wonder if he is really that good at his job, so of course I have been on my very best behavior. I learned a long time ago how to fool a stranger, just smile and act like I look. One thing that I do get from Cinderella is the fact that people look at me and think that I’m sweet.
       The week lasted much longer than I think it should have, being good always makes my days drag on but I knew that he would get bored quick. When that happens they always came to talk to me and with me being the lady, I make it easy for him to approach me.
       It was Saturday and I didn't work, which he knew. I made it easy for him to see my work schedule and if he didn't see it he heard about it. I had planned to go to the park that day, which I may have mentioned at work the day before. Anyways, I knew this would present the perfect time for him to talk to me.
       I had decided that I would take a hiking trail that was about half a mile out. It was perfect because I loved hiking and there was a nice view at that marker. After my hike, I sat on the bench to enjoy the view. It wasn't long when I saw the detective trudging along. Before he rounded the corner he stopped, probably compiling his list of questions to ask. Finally, he takes a deep breath and takes his opportunity. He walks up to me and says, “Ma’am, I have a few questions for you.”
       One thing I do not do is lie, so he’ll get all the answers he wants. Too bad he won’t be around long enough to tell anybody else what he knows. 

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