There's something so divine about fairytales. It's the heroes. It's the purity of their journey. It's their motivation to let good waver. It's the eloquence of their victory. But the truth of every fairytale is that love will always win. Resonate in honesty and truth. Fairytales exist for people to believe in something more than this life. They exist to remind us of the infancy of our lives.
Fairytales were nothing more than just a tale, until today. Today my eyes are opened to the truth that tales expose in this world. As my fingertips feel a flood of electricity and my heart fills with hope, I'm left gasping for air. The trees surrounding me begin to quiver. Their branches struggle to hold their strength. The gray clouds grow darker, rumbling as they begin to hang directly above me. Every sound has been muted. All I can hear is my blood pumping through my veins. My body was creating a barrier. My eyes break through the emotion and connect with my dear friend's electrifying brown eyes. Our connection is soon broken as a wave boiling in my legs begins to spill over my control. The entire earth shakes as I lose control of my body and allow it to erupt. A shock of reality and change of color overcome everything. My hands are quivering as I reach down to offer him a hand. His fingers touch mine, but neither of us notice because of the world around us changing. He takes a very deep breath and looks at every one of his limbs. Back to normal.
"You did it." He managed to choke out.
Things happen for a reason, I suppose. However, not all reasons need to be explained. Sound has now soaked through and we begin to hear the screams, the cries and the shock. Neither of us knows what has happened beyond these woods. Without thinking, we begin to run. Running from or running to, there is no real motive, just instinct. At the edge of the woods we can see the towns' people. Everything is still intact, but everything has changed. People are standing around, talking, hugging and crying. One man was just looking at the sky, on his knees. August wraps his arm around my waist and kisses the side of my head. But no sooner I see him running into the chaos, leaving me hidden in the trees. He runs and he runs until I see him slow down. A sound escapes his mouth, but it's muffled. All I can see is Marco throwing his arms around August and lifting him off of his feet, with tears streaming down both of their faces.
My head is throbbing as reality begins to hit me. My feet step ahead of me, and my body follows suit. I walk into the center of town, standing in the middle of an intersection. There are no cars on the road. There is no sound but the voices whirring about. It's such a strange sight to see a town come to a halt. My hands are still shaking. I stick them in my jeans, so no one will see. My body turns in circles, taking in what it seems to be joy from everyone.
"Emma?" My name is being said over and over again. It's only about the fourth time is that I realize it's my name that's being said. I turn to see them. The heroes I have read about are standing about a yard in front of me. These people have stood against all odds but they are now standing in front of me. My whole reality is altered as I look at these once fairy-tale characters, in actual flesh, breathing the same air as me.
"Emma." Her eyes widen. His jaw drops.
"Sweetheart?" Another voice shouts from behind me. But this time I recognize it. Mom. Nothing has changed her. She puts her arms out just waiting for me. They yell from behind me, once more.
But instead of choosing one side over the other, I stood in my foot prints. I stood for myself. Suddenly I remembered what I had been holding this whole time. In my hands lay a sword. Bloodied and used, I trail my finger over its edge and this smirk overcomes me. Staring at my reflection in the metal, I see the dirt on my face, the bags under my eyes and the similarity between myself and my mother. My real mother, that is. I wield the sword in front of me, and tune out of the shouts and demands coming from either side. Aligning it directly with the center of my face I lower it and place it back in the holster on my waist. On either side of me was someone who loved me. When I was younger, I would have died to have this many people wanting me. It didn't feel incredible, like I always thought it might. Instead, it feels like my heart is literally being torn into half.
They have come so close I can feel their breath on my neck. My eyes dragged their way from the ground to my two very alive parents standing before me. They looked so familiar. Probably because I had spent my whole life reading about their love story. Snow White and Prince Charming had true love, and they survived many tragedies, including death. But because of their love for one another, they survived all odds. These two people, who were just heroes in a story, are now my parents.
"Emma…" She placed her hand on my cheek, and the other on my back. Just her bare hand touching my skin sent chills down my spine. "My sweet girl…You found us." She pulled me into her, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks. I found myself putting my arms around her and squeezing just as tight. My father wrapped his arms around both of us and kissed the crown of my head. It didn't feel strange. It didn't even feel wrong. In fact, it felt long overdue.
"You did it, kid. You finally got your happy ending." August said from his father's embrace.
12 hours earlier…
She had set the dinner table perfectly. The fine china, crystal goblets, and the gold flatware were placed exactly so. She even had a vase of my favorite flowers, white lilies, and two candles. A small box wrapped in purple paper with a silver bow sat alone at the other end. I stared at it from my seat, thinking of all the possible gifts that could fit in the box. We were supposed to have eaten an hour ago, but she burned the first roast, so she had to start all over. My mother never claimed she was a good cook. She knew she wasn't very good at it, but it didn't stop her from trying, all of the time.
"Alright! Here you go, birthday girl!" She proudly placed a piece of roast beef on my plate, served me a heap of mashed potatoes and a serving of baby carrots. I looked at the charred meat, and the potatoes that could pass as soup and drew in a brave breath. She unfolded my napkin for me and placed it in my lap, then did so with hers.
"It all looks great, Mom, thanks!" I pushed my fork into the roast and tried to saw it off. I could see her eyes on me, watching with disappointment. But I played it off well, as though I didn't know that meat shouldn't need a chainsaw to be cut up.
"How was school?" She started eating, choking down her food and then swallowing only with a gulp of water.
"It was fine. I aced my Language Arts exam."
Every year on my birthday we had dinner together. It was usually my favorite meal, followed by my favorite Apple Cider cheesecake for dessert. And typically I would get the one huge gift that I have been asking for. Last year I got a stereo system that cost nearly two grand. The year before I got a laptop. This year I asked for an iPhone 5. But for some reason, I don't think a phone could fit in that box.
"That's wonderful! Oh, I forgot to tell you that tomorrow I have a meeting at five, so I won't be able to make it to your show." She never made it to my shows anyways. I had been riding competitively for ten years and she never made it to more than two shows. Sometimes I preferred it, because she just made people uncomfortable. But other times it was hard to see crowds of families for my competitors cheering them on, and no one in my corner.
"What else is new?"
"Hey…You know I want to be there, but work has to come first sometimes."
We continued to eat in silence. Once my plated had been cleared I pushed in front of me and finished drinking my water. My eyes kept looking to the clock. He was going to be waiting for me. I needed to leave within at least an hour if I wanted to make an appearance. She was eating slower than usual, but I didn't think anything of it. She stood up and disappeared into the kitchen. That gave me enough time to text him.
Got held up. Be there soon.
She came back carrying a plate of cheesecake with the candles shaped into a 1 and a 6. I smiled as she sang our birthday song and placed the cake in front of me with this big goofy grin. Mom wasn't very good at many things, cooking being at the very top of that list alongside caring for others, but she was pretty good at birthdays. She knew how to make you feel special on your day. Closing my eyes, I drew in a deep breath and deciphered through my long list of wishes that I intended on making tonight. Every birthday I would make the same wish. Just like every Christmas I would ask for the same gift: to meet my biological parents. There was a built up suspense about who my parents were. When I was little I would draw pictures of them. I always imagined my mother having beautiful, long, dark hair. She would be strong, but elegant. I'd hope her heart would be gentle and kind, but silly and sweet. My father would be a ruggedly handsome man who was over protective, but giving. He would love my mother and me more than his own life. He would have been tall, with a chiseled chin and stunning blue eyes. He would have blonde hair, like mine. They were picture perfect. Now if I could finally have the chance to meet them. But this year I didn't make that wish. Now that I was going to be sixteen it seems silly to wish for menial things like meeting two people who didn't want me to begin with. This birthday I was going to wish for the chance to break free from this spell they've cast on me and to truly begin living my life. This candle was going to be blown out with the air of freedom.
"What'd you wish for?" She always asked, and I never told her. I know it would kill her.
"Nothing…" I smirked at her and she kissed my head.
We ate our cake in silence. The only sound that could be heard was my anxiousness to leave this house and really celebrate. My cake was gone, fork was on my plate, and my plate was in the sink within five minutes. Mom was looking at her cell phone as she finished chewing.
"Okay! If you don't mind, I was going to go out with some friends…" She looked up over her emails and messaging.
"What about your gift?" The clock was running against me. There was no time for this.
"I'll open it when I get home. I won't be late." I leaned down and kissed her cheek before running to the door and sliding my boots on.
Running was like breathing. Whenever I got the chance to run I would take it with nothing but a warm embrace. Feeling the crisp, cold air seep into my lungs only pushed my legs further and my feet faster. The wind would slide through my arms, and whip through my hair. It was so rejuvenating to feel completely in control over something. Nothing in my life was mine. My mother saved me. She gave me a future that I wouldn't have had without her. My life, my grades, my intelligence, my riding technique was all due to my mother. The only thing I owned was my kindness and my ability to run and run fast. On this night, every year, I would run through the streets of Storybrooke until I was in the woods. Then I ran through the woods with such freedom, elegance and frenzy. The vines on the ground and the trees that blend in couldn't stop me. I ran until I couldn't run anymore. Wherever my body would collapse is where August would meet me. I don't know how he did it, or how he knew, but he would always find me.
Just as I expected, as soon as my body fell amongst the dirt, leaves August creeped into the darkness.
"Hey August!" I said through exasperated breaths.
"Birthday girl…" He tipped his hat to me. I grabbed the blanket from his arms and laid it out on the ground.
August and I spent every birthday of each other's together. We have since I was born. Our parents, coincidentally, left us on the same doorstep of the same orphanage on the same day. In a way he was like my brother. We were brought together for a reason, we were placed together for a reason. We decided to take all of these signs and run with it. We tried seeing each other as often as possible. My mom didn't like August. She he thought was poison. Her theory for keeping us apart was that my life needed to move on, and some people just don't move on with you. But I knew better. August took care of me while we were in foster care together. He has spent his whole life watching over me, and I wasn't going to turn my back on family.
It started on my fifth birthday. He was eleven years old. He spent the whole day traveling to Storybrooke. It took a bus and a train before he found me. He snuck into my backyard and threw rocks at my window. Just like a fairytale. We ran from my house that night, and into the woods. It was the only place my mother didn't have eyes. He has only ever given me one gift. On my fifth birthday he handed me a leather bound book full of every fairytale. We lay on the blanket, under the stars, as he read my story after story. As the years went on, we would read stories, reenact them, pretend we are in them. Anything to escape our reality for just a moment.
"Did you bring it?" I rubbed my hands together, excited to just get my hands on it.
"Have I ever forgotten it?" He pulled it out of his coat and handed me our sacred book.
Being sixteen, and him being twenty-two, didn't really change our dynamic. We were both older, both a little more mature and had a little strong grip on reality. But age didn't change our desire for a moment's escape. Now that August was out of the system he found an apartment in Maine. He found a job working at a mill just outside of Storybrooke. Every so often I would see him riding his motorcycle through town, just checking in on me. It was nice having him closer because I didn't feel so lonely. But he couldn't come anywhere near me without my mother threatening his life and my freedom. We sought comfort in each other's existence. That's all we needed.
"Which one first?" I flipped the book open and began scrambling for a story. We've read each story at least ten times. However, we were both drawn to one story. The story of true love and heroism. I flipped to the page that has been a little worn out over time. August laughed and kicked out his feet by the blanket. I began to read aloud Once Upon a Time…
When I was about seven years old, August was thirteen, and we spent the night reading the tale of Snow White over and over again. It was his favorite, more so than mine. As I read how Prince Charming found his way to his beloved Snow, and with one kiss of true love he was able to awaken her from a deep sleep I could see this glistening in August's eyes. It was like he was falling in love with their love. He laid on his back, folding his hands behind his head and stared at the stars above us. I remember him saying Can you imagine having two parents so in love like them? But I couldn't. I've never had more than just a mother. A mother who was bitter, angry and alone. I couldn't even begin to fathom having a mother and a father, let alone them being so in love that they could conquer anything. Snow White and Prince Charming would never have given their child up. They would have fought every evil to protect their child from harm.
I began to read the tale of Snow White and Prince Charming aloud once again. Both of us lay on our stomachs, flipping the pages and falling in love with tale all over again. Without warning August yelped in pain and agony. He grabbed at his left leg, holding it and trying to concentrate on his breathing. I popped up and tried to help, but his hands just hit me away. After a minute or two passed the pain seemed to subside and he was able to sit up again. I knelt by his side, trying to figure out what I should be doing.
"What's wrong?" I gasped as he wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead.
"Nothing… Just a pain." He stood up, favoring his right leg, and grabbed his leather bag he left by the tree stump. "Here…." He handed me another book. "This is for you."
I took the small, leather bound book from his hands and examined it carefully. It looked as though he had stitched the pages together. The drawings and writing looked homemade. Warily, we lay back down on the blanket and examined the book.
"What is this?"
"It's a fairytale I thought you should know." He clasped his hands together and waited for me to open it.
The first page was a picture of me. I scoffed at the baby picture he glued on the paper. Underneath in script writing read Princess Emma. I flipped to the next page of a drawing of Snow White and Prince Charming holding me. Followed that page was a picture of the Evil Queen threatening a curse upon Snow White, Prince Charming and their entire kingdom. That curse included their baby. The next page was a picture of Gipetto and a Blue Fairy crafting something out of magical piece of wood. I looked over my shoulder at August. He was smiling.
"Keep going."
Prince Charming and Snow White placed their baby into the closet Gipetto had crafted, just as the Evil Queen was casting her curse upon the kingdom. Gipetto places Pinocchio in the closet alongside the baby. Underneath the picture reads Gippetto placed his son in the closet with the baby so he could protect him. But he couldn't let his son go into another world without protecting the royal child, the Savior. Pinocchio promised he would watch over the princess and help her realize her fate: that one day she would save us all. The final page was a picture of August and myself standing in front of the orphanage we had been left at. He was holding me in the blanket that I was left in. It was white, with a little bit of purple trim and my name written on the edge.
"Did you make this for me?" I laughed, looking at August. He smiled back.
"I put the book together, but it's not my story." I looked at him sideways and then hugged him.
"Well, thank you! It's beautiful. But you kind of forgot the happy ending…Every fairytale has a happy ending." I closed it gently and placed my new book on top of the other one.
"It hasn't happened yet." He stood up, using his right leg. He outstretched his hand, and he lifted me up.
"Do you want to go get your leg checked out?" I asked. But he took my hand and led us to a large rock. He climbed upon it, lifting me up beside him. The moon and the stars were brighter than ever before.
"Do you know why we meet in the woods every on your birthday?" He was mesmerized by the stars above us. They even reflected off of the gloss in his eyes.
"So my mother won't find us?" I laughed and pushed a piece of hair behind my ear.
"See that star right there? You can't miss it. It's the biggest and brightest." His finger pointed, and I followed his gaze. "It's called the Northern Star. Where I come from the Northern Star is used as a compass. It guides you through the hardest times in your life. When you think you're lost it will guide you back to your destiny."
"Where you're from? Where is that, August? Wonderland?" I said sarcastically. He wasn't from anywhere but here.
"No…Not Wonderland. But not too far off." He stood up, turned to face me and looked deeply into my eyes. "Emma….I've brought you here every year on your birthday because I am your last connection to your truth, to your destiny. I made a promise to my father that I would watch over you and be your Northern Star and on your 16th birthday I was going to tell you the truth."
"August, stop it. You're acting crazy."
"Just listen to me. That story you just read is your truth. You are the product of true love. You, Emma, are the child of Snow White and Prince Charming. And I'm Pinocchio. We were sent here together to avoid the curse that the Evil Queen…Regina…put on our kingdom. And on your 16th birthday you are destined to break the curse and save all of us."
August has never really been that funny. He knew how to make me laugh, but he wasn't a comedian, nor a story-teller until today. I couldn't do anything but laugh off his little tale. Maybe he was taking our obsession with fairytales a little too far. I jumped off the rock and walked back to our blanket.
"Yeah, my biological parents are Prince Charming and Snow White and my mother is the Evil Queen. Oh yeah, and you're Pinocchio. Where's Jimminy Cricket, Pinocchio? Come on, August…" My eyes couldn't roll more. But his firm grip that tugged at my hand turned the humor of his tale to seriousness.
"Emma… Look around you. Don't you think it's strange that no one can leave Storybrooke? Or that no one can remember where they're from, who they are, or what they've done before living here in Storybrooke? You can't be that oblivious. Don't you see what's around you?!"
"Yeah, it's weird! But it doesn't mean that everyone's a fairy-tale character!"
He started shaking his head back and forth. He whipped around and pulled up his pant leg. I was expecting blood, or some kind of wound from all the pain he was just in. But there was nothing. It looked perfectly healthy.
"You don't see it, do you?"
"See what?" I shook my head.
"Have I really failed you that miserably?" He fell to the ground and placed his head in his hands. Like he was defeated, he sat there in silence, occasionally his shoulders heaving. I sat beside him, unsure if I should just leave and head home or if I should stay and placate him a little longer. But it seemed like he was losing his mind, his dignity and everything else that went with it. He perked up, reached over to his bag and pulled out a sword. A sword that wouldn't normally fit in such a small bag.
"What the hell is that?!" I gasped as he took began pulling up his other pant leg. Slowly he pulled the sword up and cut his right leg. Blood began to pour out. "August, stop it! Please stop it! What is the matter with you?!" I cried.
"Emma, you have to see." He took the sword, with both hands, and dug it into this left leg, the leg that was causing him so much pain. Maybe he was trying to amputate the pain. Maybe he had finally lost it. "Emma, look…" I didn't even notice my eyes had clenched so tight. As I relented and finally opened them, I saw what he had been seeing this whole time. The sword stood tall in his left, wooden leg. His leg was literally wooden. And the rest of his limbs were beginning to turn as well.
"What's wrong with you?"
"I told you…You are the only one who can save us. On your 16th birthday you are to break the curse and set all of us free…including me." Desperation was pouring from his eyes. He was telling the truth. It was all true. "This sword is your father's sword. If you truly believe what I'm telling you, and you hold his sword with goodness and love then you will have enough to break free from her clutches." His words stopped, as his entire face was consumed with wood.
It was all so surreal. None of this made sense. This couldn't really be happening. I struggled to even take a breath. But I was snapped back into reality when a tree branch was cracked behind me. I quickly turned to see my mother, dressed in all black, standing in the dark of the night.
"Sweetheart…What are you doing?"
"I- I don't know…" I looked all around me, and especially at the wooden man laying on the ground beside me. Her eyes traveled there as well. For some reason I was shocked to see a smirk come across her lips, but I'm not sure why.
"Come on, let's go." She waved her arms at me, as if she was herding cattle.
"No." I whispered.
"Excuse me?" She sounded surprised that I would dare defy her.
"No." I said loud and clear. "This is true, isn't it?" I couldn't tear my eyes away from him.
"Tell me…What do you think? Do you think I could possibly be the Evil Queen?" She looked in my eyes and avoided my question, even though my answer was lying on the ground like a log. Everything was beginning to make sense. All of it made sense. How angry she was, how everyone hated her and feared her. How no one could remember a lick of their past and never thought to question it. All of the stories I have read are living in this town, and have been blatantly staring at me for fourteen years and I never thought to care about anyone enough to just pay attention.
"I think that if it's true you're going to be pretty terrified if I pick up this sword." I slowly bent down to open August's hard fingers that were wrapped around the handle. His blood still remained on the tip of the sword. I looked up to see her starting towards me, which only quickened me. I furiously peeled one finger back at a time. Finally, I took the handle into my possession and stood there waiting. Nothing was happening. Mom began to chuckle.
"You see? Your friend, here, is sick. He needs help…"
"Then how did you know I was here?" I held the sword tighter. She came closer and I directed the sword's tip towards her. She backed off slightly, raising her hands above her head.
"I saw you run in here. I heard you crying, so I came after you." She was lying. I could tell. It was in her eyes and on her face.
Like August said, when I need guidance when I need my fate, I should look to the Northern Star. Closing my eyes I turned towards the brightest and biggest star in the sky, holding my father's sword as tightly as possible and raising it above my head. All that I had left to do was make my birthday wish. I made a wish earlier tonight to have my freedom from the hope of finding my biological parents, but now I'm wishing for the freedom of my town.
In that moment I felt invincible.
A light projected from my body, a force field of sorts. My mom began to ran, and August was starting to return to his human flesh. It was happening. I was fulfilling my destiny.
Disclaimer:I do not own any rights to characters or the show at all.
Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Please feel free to comment or review!