I know the people reading For Eternity are going to KILL me for starting another story, but this is just a two or three chapter long project so that I can say I've contributed to my new fandom.

Here is the deaf version of Cinderella in which everything is very AU and very switched up. Don't like it? Not my problem. Like it? Reviews motivate me to write faster.

Disclaimer: I do not own Switched at Birth, that belongs to ABC Family.

NOTE: The bold words are sign language.

Glad we've gotten that all out of the way. Now, enjoy.

"You're going to be a good girl, right Bay?" Regina Vasquez asked her five-year-old daughter. Bay clung tightly to her mother's thin hand. She ran a wash cloth across the caramel brown curls to no avail. Regina was burning with fever. The plague had killed many in the family's village, Regina being one of the last victims.

"Yes, Mama," Bay replied. "I love you, Mama."

"I know you do, Bay. I love you, too," Regina replied, her breathing becoming irregular as she struggled to stay alive. She knew the sickness would end her life momentarily, but she had to say goodbye to her daughter. "You can do anything in life, amore, don't forget that. I'll always love you and you will always find a way to win your happiness, my bright little Bay."

"I love you so much, Mama," Bay cried, finally giving up hope that her mother would live. Even at a young age, Bay understood death.

"I love you, too, Bay. I love you, too," and with those words, Regina Vasquez breathed her last and closed her eyes.

The week seemed like a blur as Regina was buried in the overflowing churchyard among the bodies of other poor people. A man came by the house and introduced himself to Bay as Patrick, the man who would find her someplace to live. All of her family was dead and Patrick was her only chance at finding a new home.

Two weeks later she was dropped off in front of a sprawling chateau next door to the palace, her small bag of clothes by her side.

"So you are Regina's daughter," Katherine signed to the little girl in front of her. Bay was glad her mother had taught her to sign. "Patrick told me about you."

"Yes, Ma'am, my name is Bay," Bay signed to the tall, strawberry blond woman in front of her. Katherine Kennish was domineering and scary to the small, shy little girl.

"Let me show you where your room is," Katherine replied, her mouth puckered shut in mimicry of a smile. To Bay it just looked like she had been sucking on a lemon.

"Is this the girl?" a young man who had hair like Katherine asked from a doorway.

"Yes, this is Bay. She'll be staying with us and helping around the house," Katherine smiled to her son, gesturing with annoyance at Bay when she was mentioned.

"Whatever," and the boy retreated back into his room, closing the great wooden door behind him. Bay heard a stringed instrument begin playing moments later, but she was being ushered down the hall again before she could really hear anything.

"That was my son, Toby. My daughter Daphne is with her tutor currently," Katherine explained before opening a small door and herding the stumbling Bay down the steps and into the cellar. Off to the side of the rickety staircase was another doorway, which led to a small room. A sagging cot covered in several quilts occupied one corner, a fireplace occupied another and a table with old papers and pieces of charcoal littered across it took up the space next to the door. One wall was totally blank and unobstructed.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and Bay started, turning back to face Katherine. "Sorry! The room is really nice, thank you."

"Well don't get used to being spoiled. You're going to have to work to earn your keep. Daphne, Toby, John and I are above you. You're hearing. You're strange. Keep silent and do not make eye contact with either of my children, my husband or myself. You can sleep here tonight, do not come upstairs. Make sure you are awake on time to help with breakfast," Katherine explained before turning on her heel and marching back up the steps, closing the door behind her and leaving Bay in near-darkness.

"Oh Mama," she dared speak aloud, "Please let me find companionship. And if I cannot, help me bide the darkness on my own."

She made a fire in her small fireplace using the piles of wood stacked up around the cellar. To the light of the flickering flames, she sketched her mother's face on one of the papers with the charcoal left on the desk and tacked it to the empty wooden wall.

Then, with a sigh, Bay crawled into bed and slept peacefully for the first time in two weeks, knowing her mother would help protect her in this new environment.

The next morning, Bay changed into a plain brown frock and went upstairs to help prepare breakfast for the Kennish family. The woman in the kitchen smiled at her. "You're Bay, huh?"

"You can hear?" Bay smiled brightly. The portly woman nodded at her and motioned for Bay to get a loaf of bread from the oven. "Well my name is Bay Vasquez."

"I'm Rosie," the cook introduced herself, slicing up the bread Bay handed her.

"It's very nice to meet you, Rosie!" Bay piped. "What can I do to help?"

"Just take the bread and butter in there and set it on the table," Rosie instructed. Bay grabbed the plate of sliced bread and a small crock of freshly-churned butter and walked it out to the table, setting it down and curtseying before back out of the room again. She'd never been stared at so harshly by anyone before. The glares being shot her way burned invisible holes in her clothes until she felt naked and ran back to the kitchen, her curly coffee-colored hair flying out behind her.

Daphne is only as old as I am! Bay thought, yet she looked at me as if I was a child. Some sort of slave. Something absolutely worthless. How could anyone so privileged be so angry and intolerant?

That afternoon Bay watched as Daphne and Toby climbed into a beautiful carriage pulled by two big black horses and rode off toward the castle, their parents retreating into the aviary to look at the birds. Bay hated thinking that the birds were locked up in a cage, but Daphne liked to look at them and Bay had no say in anything. Mostly her mind was focused on the carriage and where it was going.

"Where do Toby and Daphne go on Saturdays?" Bay asked Rosie, turning from her little seat near the window. Rosie placed the meat pie she was making into the oven and turned her flushed face to the curious girl before her.

"They go to the palace. They are playmates to His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince Emmett," Rosie explained.

"Oh." Bay replied, her large brown eyes flicking out the window to the palace nearby. "It must be fun to get to play with the Prince."

"I wouldn't know, I'm too old," Rosie joked, making Bay smile brightly. "Now how about you come over here and help me wash these apples. If we clean them all in time, we can save two and roast them over the fire tonight. My treat."

"Goody!" Bay clapped, rushing over and happily dunking her arms into the water, washing the apples as quickly and as thoroughly as possible.

Years passed, and nothing changed. The Kingdom of Carlton remained peaceful and war-free. Crops flourished and the people signed happily to each other.

Bay was ignored by the family except to receive orders or new clothes when hers wore out or she became too tall to fit into them anymore. She borrowed Daphne's books and became knowledgeable in many topics varying from English to Math. Her artwork covered the walls of her cellar room. At seventeen she had grown and become pretty, her hair silky and long and curly and her figure rounded. She was thin due to malnutrition, but her womanly curves were visible under the baggy brown kirtle given to her by the Katherine. Bay's face was almost always smudged with charcoal from drawing, and her hands were calloused from working in the garden, kitchen, and from cleaning.

Every Saturday Daphne and Toby went to the castle to visit with Prince Emmett, and every week Daphne returned more determined than ever to marry him. The only problem was, Bay heard from Rosie, that Emmett had no romantic interest in Daphne. According to the law he only had until his eighteenth birthday to find a bride or his parents could choose one for him. And according to the Kinnesh parents, his birthday was approaching fast.