Every Girl Is A Princess
I LOVE the film A Little Princess(1995) and after watching it again recently, I decided to do a little fanfic about it. PLEASE review and tell me whether you're interested in this story, so I know whether to continue it or not!
And so, our story begins shortly after the death of Sara's father, with a scene from the movie...
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters, no copyright intended.
Chapter 1
The seven little girls replied to the Indian man's bow with bows of their own, giggling all the while. They straightened up, and froze at the sound of Miss Minchin's voice.
"What is going on here?" She asked harshly. The girls gasped as they turned around.
"It's not their fault!" Sara said quickly, pushing to the front of the little crowd to face Miss Minchin, "I asked them to come!"
Miss Minchin's eyes grew hard. She looked past Sara and Becky, at the other girls, "You five get downstairs immidiately. I'll deal with you later." She waited for the girls to hurry out of the attic and down the stairs, before she spoke again. "Becky, you will remain locked in your room for the entire day tomorrow, without meals." Becky's eyes grew wide with fear, "Go!"
Becky gasped and rushed from the room, not daring to look back until she was at the entrance to her own room, when she turned back and watched as Miss Minchin addressed Sara, "You will perform all her chores in addition to your own, without breakfast, lunch, or dinner. It's time you learnt, Sara Crew, that real life has nothing to do with your fantasy games. It's a cruel, nasty world out there, and it's our duty to make the best of it. Not to indulge in ridiculous dreams, but to be productive and useful." She paused, her cold eyes glaring at Sara, "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Yes Ma'am." Sara said meekly.
"Good." Miss Minchin spat, before turning to leave. She got the door before Sara spoke out again.
"But I don't believe in it." Her voice was quiet, but determined. Miss Minchin tured slowly, her gaze boring into Sara.
"Don't tell me you still fancy yourself a princess?" She asked, laughing coldly as she set down the candles she was holding. "Good god, child, look around you! Or better yet, look in the mirror!"
There was a silence. Becky watched nervously as Sara stared down Miss Minchin. "I am a princess. All girls are." Sara took a step forward, "Even if they live in tiny old attics, even if they dress in rags, even if they aren't pretty, or smart, or young - they're still princesses. All of us." She was speaking loudly now, with confidence, taking another step towards Miss Minchin, unafraid. "Didn't your father ever tell you that?" Miss Minchin didn't reply, so Sara raised her voice. "Didn't he?"
"If I find you up here with any of the girls again, I will throw you out into the street!" Miss Minchin was close to screaming. She left, forgetting all about the silver candle holder and six burning candles she had left behind.
~o.O.o~
Roughly ten years later...
"Sara?" A voice was saying, "Sara?"
Sara opened her eyes to find her best friend and sister leaning over her. "Good morning Becky."
"No, it's not a good morning!" Becky said, "And do you know why?"
"Why?" Sara asked sleepily
"Because you were supposed to be up half an hour ago!" Becky said. Sara sat up in bed.
"Really?" She asked, "Becky! Why didn't you wake me sooner?"
"I was downstairs!" Becky said, "Now get up before Miss Minchin realises you're not down there too!"
Sara jumped out of bed and quickly got changed out of her nightgown and into her plain grey dress, rushing out of her room and down the attic staircase even as she was still tying her apron around her waste. She almost colided with Amelia as she ran into the kitchen, apologised, and took her place next to Becky, stiring the porridge that would be this morning's breakfast.
"Did anybody notice?" Sara whispered.
"I don't think so." Becky said, adding a little more milk to the porridge. Sara breathed a sigh of relief. Seventeen years old, and still terrified of Miss Minchin. Or not so much of the woman herself, but of what she would do if she caught Sara being late...again. Most likely throw her out into the streets, and then where would she go?
She was lost in thought as she poured the porridge into two large bowls, handing one to Becky and picking up one for herself. What would it be like out on the streets all alone? Cold, Sara decided. Even colder than the attic. And dangerous. Just walking in the streets during the day had presented many dangers to Sara over the years. If she didn't die of starvation first, she would most likely be killed out of the streets of New York, Sara told herself. Which is why you must do as you're told and stay here, she thought.
She took the left side of the table, spooning porridge into bowls for each girl, whilst Becky took the right. None of the girls dared talk to Sara or Becky, but Lottie gave Sara a little smile of thanks as she filled her bowl. She did every morning. It was nice, Sara thought, that Lottie was so kind to her even after everything that had happened, but it didn't change anything. A small smile every morning didn't do much, really, except remind Sara that she could never talk to Lottie or the other girls - never comfort Lottie when she missed her mother. Lottie's screaming fits had stopped years ago, but Sara stil heard her crying at night. It broke her heart to hear it, but it also taught her that when she missed her own parents, she should cry silently.
Sara caught Becky's eye as they left the room to leave the 'upper class' to eat their meal.
"I'm going to the market, will you be alright clearing breakfast alone?" Sara asked Becky, who nodded. Sara smiled, and waved goodbye as she closed the heavy wooden door of the school behind her. It was winter time, and the snow was coming down heavily as Sara stepped out onto the busy New York street. She wrapped her thin shawl closer around her as she walked towards the stalls. It didn't help much.
The man behind the vegetable stall smiled as Sara approached, "What will it be today Miss Crew?"
"Four broccoli," Sara said, regarding the list of supplies Amelia had left in the kitchen, along with some money, that morning. "And eight carrots, please."
The man handed over the food, which Sara slipped into her basket. She handed over the money, but the man gave her half back, "They're reduced today."
Sara smiled and took back the money he was holding out. "Thank you."
As she finished her shopping, Sara regarded the money she had left over. Amelia had given her the exact amount for the food, but she hadn't known about the reduction of the vegetables. Sara could give the money back, but Amelia would never know about it if Sara didn't mention it. So instead, she headed over to the family of flower sellers, who smiled at her warmly.
"Good morning Sara." The mother said.
"Good morning Mrs Linket." Sara replied, "How are you?"
"I'm well, thank you." She said, "And you?"
"I'm well too." Sara said, "Is Annie better now?"
Mrs Linket frowned at the mention of her youngest daughters name, "Not really, I'm afraid. She needs some medicine."
"Maybe I can help." Sara said, producing the money she had left over.
"Oh, Sara, there's no need!" Mrs Linket said
"Take it, please." Sara said, pressing the money into Mrs Linket's hand, "You need it most."
Mrs Linket smiled, "Then take a flower as payment."
"What kind have you got today?" Sara asked
"Lilies." Mrs Linket said, handing over a perfect white flower. Sara beamed, and sniffed the delicate flower.
"Beautiful!" She said. Mrs Linket always gave Sara a flower when she gave her money - which was as often as Sara could. She liked Mrs Linket and her children, and ever since the first day she had seen them out on the streets, she had been determined to help the family in any way she could.
"Just like you." Mrs Linket said, and Sara smiled again.
"I'll see you tomorrow!" She called as she began her walk back to the school. She paused outside the Randolph household, and placed the lily down on the steps, as she always had with her flowers. Mr Randolph's son had been reported MIA in Europe ten years ago, and was now presumed dead, but the flowers were not only for him. They were for Sara's own father. She didn't know where he had been buried - probably somewhere in France or England - but the flowers she left at the Randolph household were for him, as well as Mr Randolph's son, and all the other soldiers who had died.
As Sara looked up, she saw a face at the window, watching her. It was a boy, around her age, who she had never seen before. Was he somehow related to Mr Randolph? A great-nephew or grandson perhaps? Sara gave a small smile to the boy, who didn't move his gaze from the flower on the doorstep. The town clock began to chime, reminding Sara that she was late. She picked up her basket and rushed over to the school, pushing the door open and going inside without looking back at the boy.
The boy watched her run up the stone steps with curiosity, wandering who the beautiful girl he had just seen could possibly be.
A/N So...hope you liked it! This was just a short taster chapter, and if I get some reviews saying that you want to read the story, I will continue writing it!
Thanks,
Princess Kat (Because Every girl is a princess...)