She was not a fairy tale.
She was not subjected to
scrubbing floors and clipping
her sisters' toenails until
a dapper prince strutted
through the front door and
whisked her away to a life
of luxury and refinement.
She scrubbed the same
tiles and tended to the
same toes but there was
no dashing saviour with silver
wings and a heart of gold.
And she was alright with that.
She was not a fairy tale.
She did not fall under an
oracle's evil incantation and
doze for a hundred years,
to dream of her husband to
be who would rescue her.
She placed her ginger curls
on the same pillow each night
and snoozed as long as she
could but was not awakened
by any man, but on her own accord.
And she was fine with that.
She was not a fairy tale.
She did not mope and groan
and whine and sulk about
her circumstances. She did
not wish on shooting stars
for salvation, she did not
sing with fuzzy creatures
as she sewed and mopped.
She did her chores blindly,
with devoted obedience, with
silent submission. She was
unseen in the home and the
marketplace. She liked it that
way. She was content with life.
Until him.
He made her question things like
attending to her sister's hair
and why must she be up so early
when the first meal wasn't
served for many hours and often
cast aside? Why was she forced
to take over what had once been
her step-sister's work while her elder
sister became the sole privileged
child, the apple of her mother's eye?
How could she be happy being a
lower class citizen in the eyes of
her family? Didn't she want
something better than this?
Did she want to grow old and grey,
cleaning fireplaces and babying
her sister?
Didn't she want to fall in love?
She would lie awake at night,
after the candles were snuffed
in her sister's room, and dream of
love. She could taste it on her
tongue, sticking like molasses but
tasting like melted chocolate. She
could hear it rapping on her window,
wanting to come inside and curl
up in the cinders with her. She had
never seen love, but she hadn't
imagined it looked like him. Muscles
and kindness and charcoal tresses
that weaved perfectly between her
fingertips. She hadn't expected his
hands to be so warm or his eyes to
glow when the moonlight hit them
just right. She sought love as all humans
did, but hadn't thought it would sneak
up on her. She wanted warning signs,
clanging bells, flashing arrows, anything!
One day he didn't exist, the next he
was visiting every day for hours.
How was she to explain this to her sister,
her mother? Hello Mama, I just
wanted to let you know that
a handsome man came by today
and asked me to marry him. We're
going to elope now, to-da-lo! No,
that would never work. But like he
said, she had to try. He was all for
running off, but he was a gentleman
first, her lover second.
She was not a fairy tale. Her life
was not easy or torturous enough
to be considered interesting,
but she was happy.
If only she could grow a backbone
before her twenty-first birthday.