Fairytales and Monsters

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

I clawed at my skin and screamed at the air, because there must be something evil inside of me that killed my mother and destroyed my father from the inside out.

I have searched my whole life for some sign that everything is not as it seems. I looked tirelessly at the bottom of the garden for fairies and gnomes that would come and make all my wishes come true. I could be found constantly stroking all the lamps in the house to see if a vibrantly colored genie would fly out of the end. I would look behind me when I walked down the street in the night to see if I was being pursued by a vampire or werewolf. I was terrified of the old lady who lived at the end of the street because I thought that she was a witch and could curse me for life....

My mother always used to hold me close and tell me wonderful tales of beautiful princesses and adventurous knights. I used to sleep peacefully and dream of unicorns and huge fire-breathing dragons. But occasionally I would dream of wicked stepmothers and scheming sorcerers who were determined to hurt me. I remember one night vividly- I dreamed that a wicked man took me away from my family and hid me in the woods. I was cold. Hungry. Scared......and so frightfully alone. That was what scared me the most, that nobody seemed to be coming for me. I woke up screaming that night.

My mother just came running in and hugged me as I poured my eyes out, telling her in bits and pieces what my nightmares were made of. She sat there and comforted me, just like mothers should. I thought that I was a coward, because I was scared of the monsters in my own head.

"You need to be scared to be brave," she told me reassuringly," all great heroes are scared of something."

So every night after that I told myself to be brave like the knights in my storybooks. When my mother suddenly disappeared and my father didn't smile anymore, I told myself that King Arthur wouldn't curl up and cry, he would go and find the one he loved and save her. So that's why I was found two days later deep in the woods shouting for my mother, begging the angels to help me save her, to bring her back to me. My feet bled, my nails were broken and I had a countless number of scratches marring my face, but I told myself that my mother might be in even worse pain. So I kept walking to find her.

I never did.

When my father found me he looked at me with black holes that sucked me into the darkness. He lifted me up and marched home, and that night was the last night that he rocked me to sleep. The day after the incident in the woods, my father took me to a forest of stones and crosses and told me that my mummy was underneath one of the strange dead trees. I didn't believe him at first, because I hugged the stone with writing on it and it was freezing cold. When my mother hugged me she was always warm and she smelt of coffee and shampoo, not of damp and rain. But my father said that it was only her body that was hidden beneath the stone, and that her soul  was with the angels now. He said that if I looked up at the stars at night and saw one of them flickering, that that was her saying hello.

For a while I thought that we were going to be okay. My father was always sad and angry, but he did his best to make me laugh and smile. I went to school and played with the seven dwarves. Sneezy was always ill and Doc was a teachers pet. Sleepy was late for school all the time because he never woke up early enough and Bashful would turn five shades of red every time I looked at him. Grumpy sometimes upset me because he said that I would never see my mother again- but Happy always made him stop and hugged me until I stopped crying. Dopey just used to sit there and stare at me, and I never did get him to talk.

I had three fairy godmothers as well. One cooked dinners for me in the school kitchen, one taught me how to read and write (she also gave me books to take home with me) and one helped me cross the road safely in the mornings. All of them made sure I was looked after and happy, even if it only lasted a little while.

But then one day a wicked witch came to our house and gave my father a magic potion that made him talk funny and throw things. After he drunk it he would get either really upset or furious, and then he would go to sleep. Sometimes he wouldn't wake up, and I had to go get one of my fairy godmothers to help him.

One day when he came home he hadn't had the potion for a few days, and he was really grumpy. I said something that annoyed him and he lifted me off the ground and shoved me against the door. I realized that this wasn't my daddy, and when it started hurting me I begged it to give him back to me.

From that point onwards I watched my father descend into a wraith; his ribs protruded from his chest and dark moons formed under his eyes. The witches potion became his constant companion, and I always wondered why he kept drinking it as it turned him into a vampire, lusting for violence and blood.

 As the years went by I got more and more bruises. The dwarves tried to help me run away but I told them that I couldn't leave my daddy alone with that thing. So they just started leaving me alone, and stopped asking me why my skin was painted black and blue. My fairy godmother's all left or died, and for the first time I started to doubt in fairytales. I realized that princes don't come to save little girls in this world.

In a last desperate attempt to find my supernatural savior, I pricked myself with sleeping beauty's needle and went to sleep.In this sleep I could almost touch another world, and sometimes I flew so high that I could've sworn that the clouds pushed me back down. I saw vampires bathed in red and humans with wings made of shadows, and these twisted beings made me feel alive, made me feel like I could do anything.

But then I had to wake up. When I did I couldn't see any heroes waiting to whisk me away to a better place, instead I saw a filthy alley littered with hundreds of needles and magic potions. If I stayed out of the spell of the needle for too long, the witches curse would make me ill, and when I got ill I would go back to that alley and travel to the stars and back hoping to get a glimpse of the angel that I knew was up there somewhere.

I gradually turned into a ghost, invisible to everyone and everything. My heart began to slowly solidify and turn to ice, while suddenly one day my father's stopped doing anything. I floated through his rushed funeral, barely noticing that I was the only one in the church. As I stared up at the supposed messiah hung up for sacrifice, I couldn't help but think that maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe I could come back one day, and I could become the magnificent creature that I was always looking for.

I waited a few weeks, but the days came and went so quickly that I barely noticed that the time had passed. I went back to the woods of my nightmares, and sat there alone in the dark. The whispers of the wind had me sitting there shivering, but not from the cold. Sobs tore through my throat and rivers of salt fell from my eyes. I clawed at my skin and screamed at the air, because there must be something evil inside of me that killed my mother and destroyed my father from the inside out. This was worse than my nightmares; this time I couldn't wake up and hope that all the monsters had gone, because they were inside of me. Eventually I got too exhausted to continue my rampage and I collapsed into a heap on the ground. When I looked at the world all I could see was the evil, but none came from creatures of horror only the people around me and that just made it even more terrifying.

I held a poisoned apple in my hand, and took the fatal bite that had Snow White falling to the ground. For a second I was frozen in pain and terror, and my body was racked with spasms as I felt the universe fall apart around me. But then it stopped.  I was lifted up, and I was increasing in speed as I went higher and higher and higher into the sky.

As I flew into the clouds, a warm pair of arms embraced me, and I smelt fresh coffee and shampoo. I found my true calling, and realized that my place wasn't being stuck to the ground unable to see through the veil of pain that surrounded the earth. My place was up in the stars, making the stars flicker and giving little girls something to make a wish on. A smile graced my face as I dived under oceans and soared over mountains, and only in death did I get to finally see the wonderful beauty of LIFE.


And I lived happily ever after.................

Submitted: August 12, 2014

© Copyright 2021 JaneRochester1847. All rights reserved.

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