Tangled the Series Season 2 is coming out! I'm soo excited! Also, the next book in the Tangled book series came out and I will definitely read it. I haven't read it yet so maybe this story isn't canon, but I hope you guys enjoy this chapter :)


I breathe in, smelling the pollen in the air. I try not to sneeze. I try not to wake up my parents.

I get out of bed, practically tiptoeing the whole way to the door. It was Saturday and I didn't have school but I decided to wake up early anyways. Before I leave, I make sure to grab my lucky comb. It wasn't really lucky, but it made me feel powerful like a swashbuckler. I had stolen the comb from Joshua Heinz earlier in grade school because he was a bully. When he wasn't looking, I took it. He cried about it to the teacher but I knew I had done the right thing. It wasn't stealing if you do it to a bad guy right? Now when I look at the comb, I know I am a hero. A hero who punished the bad guy. A hero who stood up against a foe and won. Just like Flynnigan Ryder.

I make my way to the bathroom and look at myself in the cracked mirror. The mirror wasn't always broken, but one night I heard someone break it. My dad was yelling like he always did after he drank the liquid. The liquid that smelled bad and burned your throat. I tried it once before when my dad wasn't looking but I had to drink water to rinse the taste from my mouth. That liquid made him crazy. It made him scary.

I see the rough outline of myself in the shards of glass still hanging onto the mirror frame. I decide not to brush my teeth. Adventurers and swashbucklers never brush their teeth anyways. I look once more into the mirror and twisted my head a little, puckering my lips into a 'smolder.' I brushed my hair with the comb but I couldn't help but laugh as I tried to imitate the handsome cowboys who had their hair up and lips pursed. I saw on television. If only I could be like them, running away on a caboose and hijacking trains with just a revolver and a horse and getting fame and fortune.

It was peaceful early in the morning, but then I heard some yelling and screaming. I heard my parent's room door open, and I saw my dad come out. I don't know why, but I was scared. I ran into the bathtub and closed the shower curtains. I sat there, holding my comb in my hand. I tried not to cry or squeak. My heart jumped when he slammed the door. I heard him go down the stairs. After a short while, I heard some cuss words, and the front door opened and there was no more noise. I felt sick. I wanted to throw up and cry. But I didn't. I put the comb in my pocket and got out of the bathtub and the bathroom.

I went downstairs carefully, making sure my dad wasn't still in the house. My mom was still in her room, but I didn't check. I didn't want her to yell at me. I made my way over to the refrigerator and I heard my stomach grumble. There was nothing in there but some milk and eggs. I didn't know how to cook, so I just poured myself some milk.

I went over to the cookie jar and opened it. There was nothing there. Reluctantly, I took my glass of milk and went over to the television. I went up to the blocky thing and pressed the ON button on top of it. It turned on to static, and I had to use the CHANNEL buttons to switch it around. There was nothing good on it. I shut the TV down and sat on the sofa. The house was so quiet and peaceful this early. I drank my milk and playing with my comb in the other hand. I heard the birds chirping outside. It was so unfair. The birds had so much freedom. Why were they so happy but I am so miserable? I groan. I felt the milk curdle in my stomach. Or maybe that was just my hunger.

Maybe I needed some fresh air. I went to the garage and found a bunch of my dad's stuff. I saw the fishing rod and grabbed it. My dad taught me how to fish before and I suppose I was hungry so maybe it would be a good idea to catch my own food.

So, I left my house, embarking on an adventure. I headed out down Birch Street, looking at my neighbors' houses. Their backyards were always filled with groups of kids playing basketball or tag or whatever. But I tried to avoid them. They cussed all the time and they didn't like me. They called me names and try to hit me. Most of the time I run and climb away fast enough where the fatties can't get me.

But there was one neighbor I did like, her name was Rose-Anne but I called her Anne. She was two years older than me, just starting middle school, and I think that I have a crush on her. I mean I felt like I didn't just like her. I like-liked her. She was further down the block and sometimes I see her on her porch reading a book and sometimes playing on her flute. Today, she was playing her flute.

I snuck up to her porch, making sure she couldn't see me. Her music was so beautiful. She was very pretty too in her flowery dress. I was soon mesmerized by the sounds of the flute, and I wanted to just fall asleep next to her porch where she couldn't see me. But then I remembered that I wanted to talk to her.

"HEY", I jumped out.

She flinched and suddenly the flute hit an off-key high note. "Eugene! You scared me!" She cocked her head. "What are you doing here so early? Shouldn't you be doing some of the algebra Homework that Ms. Peppers gave us?"

I groan loudly, making her smirk. I hated school, but for some reason, Anne always loved learning and all the stuff that make me want to barf. I mean I mainly hate math and science but writing was fun. I liked to write adventure stories and doodle in my free time, even though my doodles don't end up that good anyways, even though Anne lies and tells me they are good.

"Well, I am going fishing!" I held up my fishing rod proudly. As if instantly, her face beams up and she drops her flute, and hops down the stairs.

"Cool!" she reaches for my fishing rod and examines it. "How do you use it?"

"Well, I was going to test out my skills at Salt Waters Lake" I pause and her eyes darts to mine. I swallow a lump in my throat. "Wanna come?"

"Sure!" she exclaims. She leaped with joy and hugged me. My heart gets warmer and I try to hold back my smile. "Hold on, I need to tell my mother," she starts to turn towards her house.

My heart skips a beat. "NO!" I protest. Truth was, her parents didn't like me AT ALL. They said that I was a 'bad influence.' And once when Anne was talking with them, I heard them say terrible things about my father and my family. They called us 'broken,' like the bottles in my house.

As the thoughts race through my hand, I didn't even realize that I had reached out to grab her arm.

"Eugene?"

"Oh sorry," I let go of her arm. "I don't want you to tell your parents. They don't like me. You know they don't. They will never let you go."

She pauses. "OK. Just because I like you." And before I knew it, I felt her kiss my cheek and the day seems brighter already.

All of a sudden, I feel the cool spring breeze hit my skin, as if it was hiding away in the clouds waiting for the right time. I look up into the sky and the sun is almost about to set. Then I look at Anne, her skin is shining in the orange glow of the sky.

I want to forget about my 'broken' family. I want to forget about the broken bottles. I want to go on an adventure like Flynnigan Ryder. An adventure with a fair maiden as a partner.