You have probably heard of Cinderella, The wicked stepmother and of course, Prince Charming. However, what you have probably never heard is that it has actually happened. I know I was shocked.
I was sitting at the kitchen table across from my Grandmother trying to figure out my science homework. Eventually after reading the question about 100 times and still not taking anything in, I decided it was time for a break. I looked across the table at my grandmother, who lives with my family. A kid in my school had told my history class about his family, who were from Korea, and I realized that I had never asked my Grandma about her parents, who had come to America from Ireland. I asked her very awkwardly, if she could tell me the story of how my family had moved from Ireland, to America. Her story went something like this:
Cinderella had had enough. She was tired of her stepmother favoring her own children and acting like she, Cinderella, didn't exist. She didn't know why her Father married her in the first place. She was tired of working from sunup to sundown and getting nowhere and she was tired of being beat up by her dad.
Cinderella, better known as Catherine Hudson was my great grandmother. When she was 16 years old she left her father and her stepmother and she boarded a ship that would sail from Ireland to America. It is commonly known in my family that as soon as she stepped on the ship she started throwing up. No one is sure whether it was sea sickness, nerves or both. Maybe she was missing the shoe she had left behind. However instead of leaving behind an article of clothing, Catherine had left behind her heart with Prince Charming.
Prince Charming's, aka Timothy Farrell's, day usually went something like this: Wake up when the cock crows, work at the fields till your fingers bleed, go to the pub and party, then go to bed. Except when Cinderella left for America, he had to play his part in the story and find her. So he stepped on a ship and sailed all the way to America in hoped of finding his princess.

They were married and lived happily ever after. Well, sort of. They worked hard their whole lives, and hardly ever managed to keep a dime in their pockets. When my Grandma was 7 or 8 she had to get on her hands and knees and sneak into Timothy's pocket to get the money he had earned that day and give it to her Mother, Catherine, so Timothy would not spend it on whiskey. Timothy Farrell was the first of many in my family to be an alcoholic. He did not just sit around and drink all day, however. He worked all day and was also an amazing athlete, and could have gone to the Olympics for running, but never did because he had children to provide for. Catherine never knew what kind of mood her husband would be in when he came home from working at the fields, so she made sure, for her children's safety that they were in bed before the clock struck midnight- well probably eight thirty. Although she was able to protect her children from her drunk husband's wrath she was often unable to escape it herself. Once I overheard my parents discussing a time when my mom was really young and her Grandpa Timothy would chase around Grandma Katherine and hit her with his belt for no apparent reason. Katherine was unable to escape the abuse she had run away from. That either means that you cannot run away from fate, or life bites, I am not sure. I found some pictures of my great-grandparents and noticed that they never looked happy. Definitely not a fairytale. So maybe the story of my heritage is not a Cinderella story after all, but it certainly ends the way most do. Both of my great-grandparents died'The end.