Narrative – The Gift

My story/narrative is based on a Cinderella theme but with a little bit of a twist. Amelia is a maid to her evil stepmother, Ms Goldentyre and her wicked daughter, Bella. One day, Amelia’s birth parents send her a gift and ask her to come and live with them but instead of Amelia finding it, her stepmother does. Ms Goldentyre goes and hides the gift and letter because she doesn’t want Amelia to leave. Because she loves her. Eventually Amelia finds these things and packs to go live with her parents.Ms Goldentyre and Bella go and plead for her to come back, because they miss her. After a bit of persuading they come to an agreement.

Here it is,

The Gift

“Amelia!” I shriek impatiently, “Come down this instant!” I hear here the sound of rushed footsteps coming down my beautiful marble staircase.

“Yes Stepmother?” she says quietly, knowing that she has accidently done something wrong, again.

‘Why aren’t my dishes tidy?” I inquire, “And where is my gown I’m supposed to wear tonight to dinner with the mayor?”

“Your dress is in your room and… I haven’t done the dishes yet because I was doing laundry for your daughter,” replied Amelia in a slightly shaky voice.

“Well go wash them…. NOW!!” I yell. Is it that hard to do a couple of chores, I ask myself. Children these days.


I walk into my room and see my gorgeous pearl gown across my bed. I am about to walk over to it to put it on, when something catches my eye. There is a parcel and two envelopes on my desk. The first envelope is for ‘The Wonderful Ms Goldentyre’ and is written in beautiful, cursive handwriting. That one’s for me. The second one however, is written in small, neat writing and is to… Amelia.

I rip open the envelope and pull out the letter inside. It reads;

Dearest Amelia,

Happy 16th Birthday! Over these years, we have come to realize that we should never have let you go, we’ve realized that we still love you. Please, come and see your father and I so you can stay with us forever. I’m sorry about the past 16 years and I hope you can forgive us.

Love from your mother, Catherine xx 

P.S In the parcel contains a picture of you, your father and I when you were only a baby.

A shot of pain runs through me. The thought of losing Amelia hurts. Is it because we need someone to clean, no, it’s because I have grown to love her. I quickly change then read Amelia’s letter over and over again.

Suddenly there is a knock on the door.

“You may enter,” I say, still shaken up. Amelia’s parents want her back. I throw the envelope and parcel in my wardrobe and took my mind off the subject. Amelia walks in. “Hello dear,” I say before stopping myself. Amelia is stunned. For how bad I’ve treated her, even I was surprised I said that.

“Your carriage is here to take you to dinner,” she stutters, still in shock.

“Thank you” I replied than quickly rushed out of the room.


When I get home, I see my daughter Bella on the couch in disbelief.

“She’s gone Mum,” she mutters. By now the letter that Amelia’s parents sent was well out of my mind. “Even though I was mean to her, she was nice to me. I want Amelia back Mum,” Amelia, she’s gone.

“What did she say to you when she left?” I asked frantically.

“She said to tell you that she found the letter and parcel and that she is moving in with her real parents. Then she hugged my goodbye.” Bella replied.

“Come on,” I said quickly.


“We’re going to get Amelia back,”

When we arrived at her house, Amelia answered the door in surprise.

“Please come back home,” Bella begged, “Even though I was mean to you, I thought of you as a friend.”

“And as my stepdaughter, please come home. We will treat you nicely too,” I pleaded also. Amelia, still shocked by the sudden change of things, smiled.

“I can’t, I live here now. But I will visit you every afternoon. Thank you for coming back though,” she said, delighted that we were there.


From that day on, I vowed to myself never to be wicked again, and if I did, I told myself I could not lose anything else. From that day on, I loved everyone I knew and everything I did no matter what.

Here’s me reading my narrative…