It was February 15th, 2001, my sixth birthday. It was my favorite birthday ever, well, so far. I mean who would not want to be a princess for a day? That was my number one dream, at the time. In the days preceding my birthday, I always made up stories that deep down I was a princess but no one would let me live to my full potential because they knew I would be a powerful princess and could overthrow their parental powers.

Being the best mom in the world, she threw a dress-up tea party for my closets friends and me. The place was decked out in sequins and glitter, in every young girl’s favorite colors, purple and pink. She had been baking all day, so the house smelled wonderful. The table was neatly set with small plates along with heart shaped strawberry cupcakes and cute adult tea cups.

When my friends arrived I gave each of them a boa and ushered them to where their placemats waited for them. As soon as everyone was there and seated, we began our tea party portion of the afternoon. After we scarfed down our cupcakes in the most lady like manner six year olds know, I opened my presents. One of them was my favorite movie, Cinderella. Now thinking back on it, I am sure my mom had knowledge of that gift because the living room was set with exactly five bean bag chairs with really soft blankets around the television. As soon as I opened it, all I wanted to do was watch it, so we did.

The last thing I remember is her running home and losing her glass slipper