Nothing else came out of the note left by Rapunzel's adoptive mother. Rapunzel and Eugene both forgot about it, for the most part, although Rapunzel was a little surprised that her adoptive mother hadn't followed up with whatever plan she'd made.
A chilly, early October day was met with utmost excitement. "This is a very big day, Pascal! I'm finally doing it. I'm meeting my biological parents!" she giggled happily to her chameleon, throwing on a cute purple blouse, black jeans, and her leather sandals. She fussed with her hair, wondering what her parents looked like. As she brushed her longish brown hair - which she always grew out for fall and winter -, she decided that the father was probably husky, tall, and with dark brown or maybe even black hair. His hands would be thick and strong, but he'd take her hands in his with fatherly gentleness as he took in the daughter he'd never watched grow up. She pulled her chocolate hair into a braid down her right shoulder, and tucked a small, loose strand away from her eyes. Her mother would have the same color of hair as she did, and one or both would have her green eyes. She probably got her slight build from her mother, whose eyes might tear up with happiness as she moved to pull her long-lost daughter into a hug. They'd sit down at the diner and talk the entire day, but she had to be back by seven, because Eugene was coming over for supper, which she'd bring from the cafe, she decided.
Taking a deep breath in the mirror, she swallowed a squeak of excitement. Her dream was coming true today. The compassionate lady had worked to get in contact with Rapunzel's parents, who agreed to come meet her. It almost seemed too easy, since Rapunzel had spent so much time puzzling all this out. Years, actually. Since she was twelve and decided that she'd run away as soon as she could get away from her adoptive mother! And it was thanks to a fresh pair of eyes- Eugene's - that this was coming true. She couldn't wait to tell him all about it. Maybe she'd even convince her parents to come have dinner at her house, too! Sure, they'd have to figure out where everyone could sit, but she'd figure it out somehow! Looking at the time on her watch, she gasped and grabbed her purse, racing down her spiral staircase and taking off out the door.
At the diner, all she could do was wait. She came ten minutes early, but a half an hour passed before she checked her watch. They were probably running late. Who knew where they even lived! Out of state, maybe. Maybe they lived in Maine, or-or Washington D.C.; maybe somewhere big and sophisticated. Or maybe they enjoyed the simple life, settling in a farm in New York, Pennsylvania, or Ohio. Who knew! She couldn't wait to find out.
Tick, tock. Time stretched out an impossible amount. A cheerful waitress with blond hair took her order, which Rapunzel regretfully ate while she waited, wondering if maybe she should order for her parents, as well. She decided against it because she didn't know if her parents were allergic to anything, and she didn't want their food to get cold. They'd be here soon, though.
Then, Rapunzel's cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She grabbed it up and answered it hastily. "Hello? It's Rapunzel Dyneen." Thank you for contacting us. We hope you have a wonderful day and if you have any questions or are looking to adopt a child, wait no longer and contact us using the following information!..."
"Hi, Ms. Dyneen. This is Charlotte from South New York Orphanage. Your biological mother just called me. I'm calling to notify you that, unfortunately, your parents do not wish to meet with you. I'll be sending a typed copy of our conversation to your email address."
"I-is today a bad day for them? I can wait for another day," Rapunzel offered immediately.
The sympathetic woman's voice filled her eardrums. "I'm very sorry, but she asked to receive no further contact from the orphanage or from her child. Legally, I cannot contact her any further."
"Could I, maybe?" Rapunzel asked dumbly. Her stomach turned sour and she wondered if she'd throw up.
"She requested that her child, you, may not contact her. I'm very sorry, miss. Is there any more I can do for you?" Charlotte asked politely.
"No," Rapunzel said, swallowing her emotions before they could swallow her. She'd practiced this before, many times. She knew she could control of her emotions. She had to fight to control them one more time. "Thank you for notifying me. Have a nice day!"
"Thank you. Don't let this get you down, sweetie. This happens all too often."
"I knew it was a risk. I'm not overly upset about it," she said indifferently. When Charlotte hung up the phone, Rapunzel checked her email.
"[Ms. Dyneen],
I am contacting you with a copy of the conversation between [Mrs. Kelson], your biological mother, and I. [Charlotte Mason.]
Secretary: Hello, Mrs. Kelson; what can I do for you today?
Mrs. Kelson: I have decided not to meet Ms. Dyneen today. Also, if it is possible, please remove me from your records. I do not wish to be contacted by the child or the orphanage any longer.
Secretary: Is there a specific reason? Also, is her biological father, Charles Sparks, available for contact?
Mrs. Kelson: I haven't spoken with him since the wretch was born. Scared him off, the surprise task of fatherhood. I'm assuming that since Ms. Dyneen is at least eighteen, you no longer need contact information for me. So I would very much appreciate the removal of any contact information. If Ms. Dyneen gives you trouble over it, make sure she knows that there's a reason I didn't want her.
Secretary: That's terribly rude of
Mrs. Kelson: But it's true. And what's rude is you calling me to try to set up a fairytale ending for this individual when said individual was never meant to have one. Ms. Dyneen was an accident and should be treated as
Secretary: Okay, Mrs. Kelson, please calm down. I apologize. I will notify your daughter of-Mrs. Kelson? Hello? Are you still on the line?
Ms. Dyneen was an accident and should be treated as such. Rapunzel swallowed hard. Mrs. Kelson, who was obviously her mother's married name, had never wanted her. She'd been wrong: an unfortunate home situation had not been the cause of her surrender to the orphanage. Nor had a kidnapping, a parent trying to escape an abusive relationship, or any other scenario she'd thought up over the years. Her biological father was supposedly irresponsible and immature, and her biological mother had wanted nothing to do with her - ever. She hadn't even recognized her as 'daughter' or anything. She jammed her phone in her purse, threw a tip out on the table, and rushed from the diner, all other thoughts combining with old ones. The dream of meeting her biological parents had built up careful, elaborate walls, blocking in all the bad memories and replacing it with When I meet my biological parents, I'll be loved and I won't need to remember. Now that this was gone and turned sour, the walls lapped over with acidic comments and then flooded her brain, like a dam breaking; bent on ruining everything and drowning her alive, burn her from the inside out.
"I'm gonna find them someday," she said to herself in the mirror, prodding carefully at the black eye her adoptive mother had left. This was one of the rare times in which she'd caused physical harm. It was almost always emotional or mental abuse, but this time was different. She'd caught her mother with a small packet of whitish powder, and had immediately placed it as drugs. She'd cornered her and when Rapunzel had threatened to call the police, she'd been punched and locked inside her bedroom from the outside. "I'm gonna find my real parents and I'll leave her forever! And we'll live happily ever after."
...wretch was born...said individual was never meant to have a fairytale ending...accident...should be treated as such...you're stupid, Rapunzel: how else could you receive low marks in mathematics?...Here comes the quiet orphan kid...you're so useless, flower; you would never last out on your own...
Sobbing over a hard day at school in which the bullies had gotten the best of her, Rapunzel ran to her room. Her adoptive mother was drunk again. Or high. Who knew. Who cared? She locked her door, which she'd fixed to lock from the inside. "I'll find them. I bet she kidnapped me or something. They didn't really want to give me up. That's why I didn't spend any time in the system. My real parents want me, and I'll find them someday."
"Yes, you're adopted. Congratulations, it took you ten years to figure it out. No way on this earth would I birth such a useless creature as you are. And stop apologizing for knocking that plant pot over. You're inexcusable. Now, go do as you're told and clean up the mess you made. Mummy can't, her back hurts too much." Eleven-year-old Rapunzel stared in surprise and horror at her mother-her adoptive mother. She'd just found the adoption papers, and in her rush to talk to the woman, had knocked over a flower pot. Dirt had sprayed everywhere, all over the beige carpet and Rapunzel's pale pink shirt. And now her mother was freaking on her over it. She supposed she was pretty clumsy and dumb after all.
...Senseless...daydream too much...if you tell anyone about that powder, I promise I'll lock you in that room...Don't you bloody dare think about leaving...
"I'm going to see my parents tomorrow," she beamed excitedly up at the young man standing in front of her. "Thanks to you! I would have never thought about contacting a hospital!" He enveloped her in a warm hug, telling her that it was stupendous that she was going to meet them.
"Tell me all about it," he added, making her pinky-promise that she would.
She felt as if monsters were nipping at the heels of her mind, trying to catch up with her, to destroy her. Her stomach churned and she ran blindly through sidewalks. She nearly stepped out in front of traffic once by accident, but someone grabbed her arm roughly, jerking her backwards. She gasped, yanked out of her thoughts, but instinctively jerked her arm away and feared the worst.
"Are you drunk?" a man in a suit yelled in her face. "You almost got killed!"
"S-s-sorry," Rapunzel stammered. "Th-thanks f-for-" before she could finish, the man shoved past her, apparently late for something.
"You're a screw up, dear, no other way to describe it. You couldn't possibly survive without me."
"Dear, you know you'll never make anything of yourself. You'd best stay where you're needed, helping mummy."
"Biological parents? They didn't want you, flower, that's why they gave you up. You can't look for them. The big cities out there would eat you alive."
Rapunzel shook her head, almost running past her own house. She didn't want these memories back. She'd compartmentalized them so well. It had taken her so long to do so...
She immediately went to her painting studio, grabbing bottles of paint and her easel. She didn't bother to change, nor did she bother to put an apron on. She wanted to slash a color across a canvas. And another, and another, until the whole thing was a muddy mess. Just like her mind. She didn't want to ruin a canvas, so she restrained herself. Then she just pounced gray across it with a sponge until smoke drifted in clouds. She'd made it this far, she'd kept it down so long; she couldn't break down now. She streaked a washed-out blue across it and layered white, darker blue, paler blue, and a muddy blue across the majority of the canvas. Watched it dry. She couldn't tell if she was seething or falling apart. She lost track of time. Forgot everything except the raging storm inside her head and the canvas in front of her. Grabbing a soft-leaded pencil as soon as the paint dried, she sketched a young girl drifting downwards, drowning under the lapping water that consumed her. Above water was a fire-stricken, smoke-engulfed mess, just barely shown above the waters. She painted a billowing white gown drifting around her; her brown hair splaying out like vines' tendrils. Her eyes were wide open, panicking. Her mouth gaped open desperately as she reached up towards the surface of the water with one hand; reaching for someone who would never come to her aid. Watching her work dry, she thought she had herself under control. Painting helped her; made her control her thoughts and emotions as she focused instead on intricate details. Her hands couldn't shake; her thoughts couldn't stray too far. When it once more dried, she brushed a gentle wash of blue paint across the girl, dimming her image realistically.
"Rapunzel?"
She snapped to attention, gasping in surprise. Remembering that she'd promised dinner to Eugene, she let out another horrified gasp. Should she pretend she wasn't home? No, she wouldn't stiff him like her biological parents-or mother, rather- had. She'd have to fess up and tell him that she'd forgotten. Clearing her throat, she jumped up out of her seat, hearing the stairs creaking. He called her name again, asking if she was home. In a moment, he'd come up onto the next floor and realize she'd just spent the entire afternoon throwing her frustration out onto canvas.
"Coming - just-just wait!" she exclaimed, but he was already up the stairs.
He laughed. "I figured you were painting. I also brought dinner because I figured you'd be too busy to make anything this evening."
She plastered her well-practiced fake smile across her face. "You're not mad?"
"No," he shook his head. "Why would I be? You have good reason to be distracted today."
She swallowed. "You're so sweet."
Eugene grinned, but watched her face closely. He knew she was hiding something, he just didn't know what yet. She glanced behind herself to set her paintbrush down, and he saw her canvas.
"That's what you're working on?" he asked, easing past her to see it. He could tell that this painting was symbolic, but he didn't know what for. There were a few different conclusions that could be drawn, he decided: her 'old self' dying away and being replaced by another, a girl whose dreams were fulfilled? Something dark and sinister? Simply a painting?
"Yes," she nodded, swallowing again nervously.
"It's surprisingly dark for such an exciting day," he mentioned casually, casting a curious glance her way. "But it's fantastic nonetheless. You're a superb artist."
"Not really," she bit her lip, "but thank you."
"Oh, yes really. You just don't want to admit it," he told her, "but with that aside, how did today go?"
"Fine. It went smoothly, thanks," she flashed another smile, her insides growing chilly at the idea that he maybe could see past her facade she'd so quickly thrown on. She knew her acting wasn't the greatest, especially not around him.
He nodded absentmindedly, staring at her pensively. "Ah-huh. Why don't we go eat, and then you can tell me about it? Remember, you pinky-promised," he grinned.
They went downstairs, and Rapunzel made herself eat. It was good food - from a pizzeria, not the diner - but she could barely eat. The food just clumped in her chest and refused to go down, it seemed. She managed to pack it away, but dinner was unusually quiet.
"So, are you tired from today, or did something bad happen?" he asked, standing up to clear the table.
She stood to do so as well, taking their glasses to the sink. She scrubbed them up and put them away, trying to decide how she could possibly tell him without the metaphorical dam breaking, ending with her a sobbing mess.
She turned away from her cupboard to see he was leaning on her center counter, watching her with concern in his eyes.
"I'm assuming, since you're not chattering eagerly, that something happened. C'mon, tell me."
"They stood me up," she said, her voice cracking. Her eyes filled with tears. "I-I waited for three hours, and they-they didn't come. Charlotte called me and said my mother didn't want any further contact from me or th-the orphanage. She sent me the email with the typed version of their conversation. Apparently, I'm a mistake." She wanted to say this in a cold, indifferent tone, but her voice warbled and cracked all over the place, and her throat closed off and threatened to choke her.
Eugene's eyes were sympathetic. He wordlessly reached out to her. There was no use in avoiding it now. He wrapped his arms around her almost in a protective manner, and she crumpled under the weight of her disappointment. She leaned up against him as if he was her lifeline, sobbing harshly into his shirt. When she'd somewhat gained composure, he led her over to the couch. She grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest, rocking back and forth slightly.
"I-I'm sorry," she glanced over at him, suddenly terrified that he'd think she was pathetic and leave. Maybe he should. He didn't deserve to have to sit there, watching her wallow in her own idiotic pain. She should've known, anyway!
"It's okay," he reassured her.
"I'm so stupid to think t-that they-"
"No you're not, Rapunzel. You're not stupid," he peered at her with concern as she tried to control her trembling lip.
"It's just that...I've dreamed of this day for years - since I was twelve years old. I was so sure that they'd want me. Care about me. That's all I-I've really wanted all my life, but I can't have it, I guess. Someone to love me. Someone to love back. I don't understand. Wh-what did I do wrong? I feel like-like I'm going to drown. I've compartmentalized well for years, b-but now everything's coming back..." she trailed off, gulping for air. He reached to envelop her in his arms once more, and she set the pillow to the side, wrapping her arms around him so tightly he wondered if she was hanging on for dear life. Maybe she was. The way she buried her face in his chest, choking on her own tears as her shoulders shook...he wished he could take all her problems away. She was too precious of a young girl to be weeping like this, over a broken dream she'd relied on for a decade. She finally spoke up again. "It's like...thinking of meeting my parents was the one thing that stitched me back together when my mother's words would c-cut me, and I could push everything back. But n-now that that's gone, it's like someone ripped the stitches out before they were ready and left gaping wounds that were almost fixed. A-and I can't do this, Eugene. I'm scared." she finally finished in a small voice. It wasn't just the fact that her parents didn't care. Her parents, her adoptive mother, none of them cared. It felt like nobody cared about her. Because her guard was down now, everything she'd pushed to the back of her mind...every awful memory was flooding back. She hated it. She hated all of it.
Eugene held her close until she pulled out of his arms. She immediately apologized for crying, but he brushed it off. Reaching to wipe her cheeks, he cupped her face in his hands. "It's okay. You've gotta let go of everything you've been holding back. Think of those tears as-as the thing that disinfects those gaping wounds you said about. We'll get you fixed up for good, I promise. Right now, why don't you go wash your face and dry your eyes?"
She nodded, loosing a shuddering breath as she got up to scrub her face. He fixed a cup of tea up for her and had it ready by the time she came back out. He wished he take away everything that haunted those typically shimmery, happy green eyes, but since he couldn't, he could just try to help ease the burden. He'd also like to have a few 'words' with the individuals that hurt her so, but he also knew that was unlikely and also very illegal.
"Are you leaving?" she asked as soon as she saw he was in the kitchen. "I-I'm sorry I haven't been a good host-hostess, a-and-"
He shook his head. "It's okay, Rapunzel. I promise. I thought you might like some tea. I'm not leaving," he reassured her. She looked ready to cry again as she followed him to the couch once more. They sat awkwardly while she downed her tea slowly, each watching the other from the corners of their eyes. One pair of eyes darting away as soon as they realized the other pair had seen them. Finally, Eugene spoke up. "Favorite movie? What is it?"
"Huh?" she asked, confused.
"I'll put it in so we can watch it," he said. "I'm not good with distraction, but I know movies are good distractions. Right?"
She nodded. "Okay. Pick whichever movie you want. I'll watch anything," she said, sighing and setting her mug on the coffee table. "I'm sorry."
"I don't care that I saw you cry. I don't care that you had to get it out of your system. I do, however, have a problem with the fact that you think nobody cares about your problems and would rather flee than help you," he spoke slowly and surely as he inserted a disc into the DVD player. "You can't hold things in like this, you have to let them all go sometime. You just did, and I'm glad you did. It takes a special kind of strong to hold all that in, let alone let it back out and get rid of it instead of letting all those bad memories fester inside of you. You're strong, Rapunzel. You're a fighter. You'll get through this, sweetheart. You did once, remember. These are just memories."
She realized he had a good point. "I know. It just...seems so real. All over again."
He nodded, sitting down as the movie began to play. "Understandable, but they're all gone. They'll fade. They don't deserve to take up residency in your mind, anyway."
She nodded, staring at her hands, which she'd folded up in her lap. "You're right." After a pause, she bit her lip and spoke up again. "Can I-do you mind if I-"
He gave her a sad smile, nodded, and opened his arms, pulling her snug up against his side. "You're safe and sound. Whatever nightmares you relived today...they're not real. You got through the real deal, so you can for sure get rid of the ghosts."
She stayed silent, staring at the television and slowly letting herself relax. He was right - she was safe. She didn't need to trust or believe all the things she'd been told, the things that were coming back. She'd find something else to live for. She'd be okay. Maybe letting go of all these memories, and her obsession with finding her parents...maybe it was for the best. Today, she'd found out that her parents didn't care for her, and while she could barely stand the thought, she'd been silly to think they might. And besides...she pulled her gaze away from the television to glance up at the young man whose strong arms were protecting her from the memories trying to drown her alive. Maybe someone did care, after all.
About two-thirds through the movie, Rapunzel's head dropped to Eugene's shoulder; she'd fallen fast asleep. He dropped a careful kiss into her hair after he was sure she wouldn't wake, and let the movie play the rest of the way, wondering if she'd wake back up. It had been a taxing day for the poor thing, so she stayed asleep, head on his shoulder and slim build nestled close up against him. As the credits were rolling, he slipped away, easing her onto her side on the couch. She stayed asleep, so he put the DVD away, turned the television off, and finally went in search of a blanket to cover her with. When he had done this and had spread the blanket across her sleeping form, her eyes flickered open and she lifted her head up. "Wh...what-"
"Shh. Go back to sleep; you fell asleep while we were watching the movie. I'm heading back to my apartment, okay?"
She blinked and nodded, waking up enough to make sense of his words. "Okay."
"I'll see you tomorrow. Rest up," he whispered, and then headed for the door.
"Wait," she called quietly. He turned around just before she strode over to hug him. He rubbed her back comfortingly until she let go. "Thank you." She impulsively reached up on tiptoe to kiss his jaw.
He nodded, catching her into one last, quick hug. "It'll be alright."
"I know."
He left, and she meandered back to the couch, crawling underneath the blanket he'd spread over her. She was too exhausted to bother going to her bedroom. Pascal crawled to the armrest on the couch and tucked his tail over his face, hoping the girl wouldn't cry anymore: he needed sleep! Luckily, she'd cried until she couldn't even produce tears any longer, and was too tired to start thinking and over-thinking once more. Those nightmarish memories would leave her alone tonight, at least. Maybe.