<p>anygood at all?</p>
<pre><code>I am not Cinderella, but once upon a time I thought I was. When I was two years old I was brought to America by my father from the Fiji Islands after the death of my mother. I came here to live a new life, although I was only two and was not accustomed to anything else anyway. So this would be the only life I would no. I was not given two evil stepsisters, just a spoiled little stepbrother and a snobby older stepsister. I looked up to them, I dont exactly know why, and since I didnt know any better I became the doormat of the family. They did whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted and I just kept to myself and spent most of my time reading Goosebumps. As the years went by I became a big fan sports fan and always wished I could watch TV to watch a game sometime, since I was always told to stay away from Tvs, videogames, and computers. Since I had nothing else to do, I stayed in my room and listened to the games on the radio and at night the books kept my company. As I grew older, I became very good at reading and so I became a good student, much to the jealousy of my siblings and stepmother. My dad told me to be humble and so I did, but the family could not help but notice, as they themselves were in reality, headed nowhere. They just couldnt handle it when I brought home the report cards to show my dad, and one day I even had the audacity to boldly go where I had never gone before. I came home, very quietly, took out a honor roll bumper sticker from my backpack, and slapped it on the bumper of the family car like I owned it. Of course, there would be dire consequences for my criminal behavior. I didnt know what to expect and so I stayed in my room. Big mistake. One day I looked up at the ceiling and saw that she had closed the AC vent in my room! I was like 4 ft tall so I couldnt reach it. Boy did I regret my insolent then. I guess I needed to learn my lesson.
<p>I told myself I would never do such a thing again, and dreamed that one day someone would come for me and take my far away. One day, my prince came. I was at school and wrote a story about mice going to Egypt. Three days later a man from Harvard came to my door looking for the writer, and my stepmother locked the door in my room with my closed vent! She wouldnt tell them I was home. I couldnt believe it. The man asked my siblings to write a piece to match the story, but their writing just wouldnt fit. I opened the door, and he saw me. He asked me to write, and the writing fit! He told me that because my creative masterpiece had captured his heart and changed his outlook on the intelligence of rodents, he was going to take me to the Super Bowl! I was to have a ball. The day of the game, I felt like someone or something had helped me that day. Some magical force had helped that man see my story and find me.
I used to think I was Cinderella because I could not play videogames or watch TV. But now I know Im not, because I always had my father, my dreams, and somewhere to go.</p>