Cinderella. I am.

Most, if not all of you, should have heard of the story of "Cinderella". If you haven't, there's nothing much I can do about your deprived childhood except to tell you the story briefly. Once, there was a girl whose father remarried after the mother passed away. The stepmother and two ugly stepsisters took away all her beautiful dresses and treated her like a maid. One day, the prince had a ball and Cinderella was supposed to have been invited. But of course, the stepmother did not allow and she had no pretty dress to wear. On the night of the ball, she was sobbing away when, "poof" her fairy-godmother appeared. With magical powers, Cinderella was suddenly ready to go to the ball. An only criterion was that she had to be back by twelve. As the clock struck twelve, she ran off, leaving a glass slipper in her hurry. The prince went after her and picked the slipper up. He found her and with the cliché ending, they got married and lived happily ever after.

Anyway, that is not the point.

As my mum is rather strict, I have to be home by twelve so some of my friends call me Cinderella. This afternoon, something that happened made me feel more Cinderella than ever. Here is how the story goes:

I was rushing for the train with my mum. I already had my right foot on board the train when my mum, who thought that we could not board the train in time, pulled me. My slipper slided off my foot and dropped on the train. At this crucial moment, the doors closed and the train moved off. There I was, with only one side of the slipper.

[Laughter]

Meanwhile, I can only wait for a particular prince charming to pick up my shoe and come looking for me. I'm not serious. I already have a prince charming, what am I talking about? *laughs* I am waiting for someone to pick up my shoe and call me so that I can go to collect it and the left and right can reunite again.

It's almost twelve, I'd better go. Just in case I leave a shoe behind in a hurry. Again.