It was one of those days where everything had to go right. Everything that you ever held back, every stroke of pale blue across the eggshell white sky, every tongue of orange lapping up the burning flame, every yellow center of the prettiest pink flower. Well, today was the day that I knew I could just let it go. Everything fell swiftly into place from the moment I woke up. The satin waterfalls of the gentlest lilac that hung from my ceiling in a magnificent canopy caressed my body with the sweetest of good mornings. Pascal was curled up on my pillow in a swirl of lacy textures and baby blue birds – he always changed on his own accord while he slept.
I opened the hand carved French doors onto my blissful balcony that overlooked the beautiful Coronian sea. Fair maidens and young children erupted in a fit of delightful giggles, playing in the pallid sand. A chorus of morning doves joined in on this sunny symphony, flitting by like ivory angels. I inhaled the salty aromas, soaking up the hot sun. But it wasn't a heat of discomfort. No, it never was. It was the kind of heat that came with a soft breeze that seemed to carry all of your worries away. And it did for me, all except for one.
I picked up the porcelain frame from my bedside table. The elegant waves that resembled the sea as a parallel to her grace. The blooming flowers that embellished the corner of the frame, in the late stages of growth, but with so much young beauty and spirit left. A big, happy sun at the top in the center. Our symbol of knowledge, freedom and dreams. If you know how to dream, then you will always be free -that's what she always told me. In the center of this elaborate frame is my hero. My sun. My mother.
I try to remember her like this. Smiling, sitting on the beach I know so well as I climbed up her torso with a small shovel in hand. I wanted to share a secret with her she told me years later. So she urged me on after the moment was captured by Father. "Go on, little flower," she said "tell me your secret. I will keep it safe." I never asked her what the secret was. I always waited for the perfect moment to bring it up, but it never presented itself. And now it's too late.
The only way I can remember her now is her face, frozen in fear and agony. I can remember that so easily. So clearly. As if it was only yesterday.
Father always told me that I was very special. That I had a gift others would try to take away from me. But I soon learned that I was not special, not at all. It was only my hair. But either way, Mother and Father loved me very much and they had to keep me safe. So, I was not to leave the castle under any circumstances because others would try to hurt me. I found this hard to believe as I watched the happy children play beneath my balcony. No one had vicious fangs or ferocious masks. They looked happy. Like the children of the sun should be.
Little did I know that my special power did not only effect my hair. Because it was a gift from the sun, I have the ability to make dreams come true. It sounds great, sure. You want a chocolate bar, ta-da. A new pony? Voila. But it didn't work quite like that.
I woke up on a morning much like this one. But I felt different. Something new had happened. Something warm and fuzzy and lovely. Something I had never experienced. So I ran down the stairs of the grand palace and found Father eating in the dining hall.
"Whoa, whoa. Good Morning, sweetheart." I slammed into his side with a giggle that filled the hall.
"I had a dream, Papa!" He laughed at my sweet innocence, but there was something gray shaded behind those clear blue eyes. I look back now and see that he knew something horrible had happened. But Papa didn't want to worry his little girl.
"And what was it about?"
"It was like the fairytale Nurse told me last night. About the beautiful Princess-"
"That sounds familiar."
"-who keeps on taking gold coins from her Mama and Papa. Except the Princess was Mama and she was as beautiful as she is now!
"Go on."
"And then, the witch came and told her that if she did not stop being so greedy, she would turn her heart to stone."
"Why does Nurse Gothel read you such stories?" A note of concern slipped into his voice.
"Shh, I'm not done! Okay, so, you see, Mama doesn't listen! She keeps on stealing the golden coins until one night the witch appears, and turns her heart to stone." And then it happens. A sharp scream, like a knife cutting through my heart, piercing every surface it can find. Smashing all of the stain glass windows, shards scattering all over the ground like little drops of blood.
Papa ran to Mama's aid. Mama was there, lying on the ground, her hand held tightly against her heart.
You see if I have a dream, and then speak of it the following morning, it will come true. I had tried to tell Papa about the happy ending, but it was too late.
Though today felt the same I knew it was different. Today didn't feel like another piece of that drawling ending, it felt like the start of a new beginning. So I knew that today I would be able to take the next step. I would be able to go outside of the palace walls.
So, here I am. Slowly making my way down my balcony, climbing down my ridiculously long hair. Mother used to braid it for me. I don't let anyone touch it anymore.
I touch down onto the tepid sand and a slight gasp escapes me. The feeling of warmth, of rebellion, of freedom. Father will be eating breakfast now. I don't have much time before he sends someone to fetch me to join him. I will not get far today. But I will start the beginning of the rest of my life.