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  • Side note: This story was written in response to an Invitation to write a Cinderella story.
  • The creators of the challenge are Anne and Theresa and you can click on their names to read their initial stories.

Outside on a stranger’s trampoline, Cindy wondered how she let herself be dragged to yet another party that she did not want to attend. Izelle and Stacia were to blame of course. They’re always to blame for things like this happening lately. Cindy sat with her legs dangling off the edge of the trampoline, with a drink in her hand. It was a Cream Soda. Cindy doesn’t like to drink much (alcohol makes her a bit anxious) so she stuck to the sweet stuff.

I am a huge fan of Mythology, Legend, Folklore, and anything else that is mystical with a dash of truth. I recall reading a story in Greek Mythology about a nymph named Echo, who was cursed by the Goddess Hera after Zeus (her unfaithful husband) took a liking to the nymph. After the curse, Echo is never able to speak her own mind again, she can only repeat the words of others. An unfortunate fate, as anyone would agree. So why do some of us choose to bestow this curse upon ourselves?

My mother has on occasion informed me that she believes that I am what she calls an Indigo Child. Now that entire explanation requires a totally different post on its own, and I will get to that eventually. But for now, let’s just say it means that I have always been high maintenance,  or as she is partial to calling it, acting like a prissy little princess. It is one of the motives which contributed to her decision of declaring that I (not my younger sister as she had previously assumed) was the Indigo in the family.

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