Authors Note: This story is based on the German version of Beauty and the Beast, called Little Broomstick. I am not going to follow the original story very closely, however. I don't mind harsh reveiws as long as they are constructive critisism. Thank you.
In many stories I have read, the father first tried to send other girls in place of his daughter.What happens when the Beast falls in love with the wrong girl?
Little Broomstick
Chapter One
Beauty was my best friend. We told each other everything, ever since we were little girls. But Beauty was the Mayors daughter, and I was nothing but the daughter of a broommaker. My true name is Rose, but everyone calls me Little Broomstick, or just Broomstick. Perhaps because I was always thin and tall, with frizzy redhair. Iam not beautiful, as the village boys were only so eager to tell me. But Beauty was so good-hearted, she saw past my plain exterior and into my heart. Many people say we are two different bodies, but the same person. But Beauty's father was not the man I would expect to have raised such a good-hearted girl. He was kind and gentle to everyone he thought was his equal, which was almost no one in this small town. A good example of this was the time when I brought Beauty the apples she asked for...
I walked through the orchird behind the manor house. It was dusk,and the basket was begining to dig into my arm, so I switched hands. I hummed as I went. Beauty told me that my voice was more beautiful then anything she had ever heard, so I sang everywhere I went. I went up to the kitchen door, and knocked. Beauty opened it, smiling.
"Broomstick! Thank you so much!" She opened the door for me, and I walked inside. I noticed Beauty was dressed in her loveliest gown.
"What's the occaison?" I asked, putting the apples on the table.
"Some formal gathering I don't care about. Father said I just need to sit in the corner and look pretty. You know him." she replied as I washed my hands in a basin of water.
"Yes, I do," I began.
"Beauty, what is she doing here?" saidher Father, standing in the doorway in his fine clothes."You should be getting ready for the dinner." said her Father in a disgusted tone. I might as well have been a stray dog.
"Father, she's my best friend in the whole world. This is more important. I will be down in a few minutes." answered Beauty, giving him no room to argue. He grudginly left, muttereing that she needed higher class friends.
"Well, I better be off." I said, giving Beauty a quick hug, careful not to smudge her dress.
"Don't worry, Broomsick. He's going on business to the city next week, and won't be back for a few months. We'll have tons of fun then."
"Until then, Beauty. Good-bye." I answered, stepping out onto the soft garden soil. She closed the door lightly behind me.
I went home, careful to avoid the roads. I didn't feel like meeting any one tonight. So I walked through the outer edge of the forest, with the houses still in view, singing a soft song.
Suddenly something caught my eye. Something red was swaying in the wind at a base of an old oak. I went and knelt down to get a closer look.
It was a rose. A beautiful red rose, perfect in every way. I touched it's velvet petals reverently. Roses never grew in this part of the country. I wanted to pick it, to take it home and show it to my father and mother. To bring some scrap of elegance and beauty into our impovershed lives. But I couldn't bring myself to do it, I couldn't kill it. So I stuck two sticks in the ground, right next to the rose. I hoped that in the morning I would be able to come and look at it, to see it's beauty in the sunlight. I sat in the dirt for a few minutes, trying to memorize what it looked like. Then I stood up, brushed my simple dress off, and headed for home. I was greeted at the door by our black cat Sarah, and went inside out small cottage. Mother was a small woman, but strong. Had she had the proper education, she would have been a very elegant and witty woman.I got my looks from my father, who was a sad man.He always felt he was letting his family down by not providing for us better, but because of a childhood injury he could little else.
He came to me, limping as he does. "My little Broomstick, how are you? How is Beauty?" he kissed me on the fore head, and we walked to the dinner table.
"Fine. She is enduring some special party at her home right now, I imagine." I replied. Mother smiled and Father chuckled.
We said the prayer, and began our meal,talking and laughing.And then I couldn't imagine wanting anything more that my family here, beside me.