Chapter Two

Enter Veronica, Bethany, and Isabelle

"Isabelle, get up!" a breathy voice whispered in my ear. I just put my head under the covers and closed my eyes tighter.

"Just push her out of the bed, Beth," another voice said. Then suddenly I was on the hard, cold ground.

"I'm up, I'm up," I shouted drowsily and sat up. My brown hair was all over in my face and I heard my two older sisters laughing.

"Your hair looks like a nest," Veronica chortled. Her blonde hair hung down her back in a braid and her blue eyes glinted in the morning light. Beside her, stood my other sister, Bethany. Her skin was pale as milk and her hair black as midnight. They had the same blue eyes and by comparison I was just the plain little sister who could trip over a flat surface. My brown hair and eyes were ordinary. I even had a light sprinkling of commonplace freckles. The difference usually didn't bother me but with every day it got more noticeable.

"Why did you wake me up at this horrible hour of the morning?" I demanded and they laughed again.

"Isabelle, you need to stop using your old-fashioned words," Beth said. "They make us seem so dumb by comparison." I smiled at that. Beth and Ronnie could never be called dumb. They graduated at the top of their classes and now it was my turn. Senior year was coming to a close and soon I would no longer live in my sister's shadows. People were surprised to realize that I was their sister. Not just because of my looks but because of my attitude. I didn't
have many friends. My days were spent in the library or out in the fresh air. I was kind to people. This last one didn't sit well with me. Ronnie and Beth were nice as well but something about high school had brought out the worst in them. They were my best friends and we did a lot together when we weren't at work trying to come up with some way to pay the mortgage. My father had gone missing two months ago and people had given up the search. Ronnie and Beth were eighteen so they took over as my legal guardians until next July when I turned eighteen. Every day we looked down the road and prayed that our father's car would come over the ridge.

"We're going to the cemetery before work," Ronnie said. "Would you like to come?" I immediately got up and got dressed. We never had much time since the crash to visit our mom. She had died when I was fourteen and then when I was sixteen, the plane crashed and Dad lost all his merchandise. We had to move to the country and live with our aging aunt until Dad found a job. He'd been going to an interview when he had disappeared. Our aunt had moved into the town but Ronnie, Beth and I had stayed in her little cottage. Before he left, he asked us what we wanted him to bring back. Ronnie had wanted a new pair of pants, Beth had asked for earrings, and I had asked for a rose. They were my favorite flower, even if they were a bit cliché. I had heard that there was a rose that grew in the woods near our house that had a sapphire hue that was said to be enchanted and I joked about wanting one of those. He had smiled at me and promised to come back with what he could. I wiped my eyes and walked out to the car. Beth, Ronnie, and I drove to the cemetery and put tulips, Mother's favorite flower, on her grave. When my sisters walked back to the car, I lingered.

"I miss you, Mom," I said wetly, placing a hand on the tombstone. "The house is so quiet without your silly songs." With a parting whisper of "I love you", I went back to the car where Ronnie and Beth were waiting.

For three more weeks we waited for my father's return. School ended. Graduation came and went. I was officially an adult and able to live in the world. Beth went to live with our aunt in the actual town, to be closer to her job and Ronnie was moving pipe for a local farmer so I was all alone in the house. My violin's voice filled the empty building with music but the loneliness wasn't so easily deterred. Eventually, I spent the time wandering the woods that surrounded the house and reading my books. I found a beautiful meadow a few months after my mother's death and it became my sanctuary. My imagination would wander and then the meadow was filled with made-up princes and knights, all vying for my attention. I would smile coyly as one such prince kneels at my feet.

"Isabelle Hessiton," he says. "Would you do me the honor of giving me your favor?" Soon the illusion faded and I was alone in my beautiful meadow. I laughed at my foolishness and pictured my father shaking his head in amusement.

"Isabelle, you have more imagination than you know what to do with," he would tease. "All these romance books can't be good for your head." I would protest and he would laugh. Even as a child, my imagination had been notorious. Once I had told my mother that there were fairies in the garden and when she told me she couldn't see them, I told her that she didn't believe hard enough. She had laughed and tickled me until I did the same. Thinking about her brought tears to my eyes and I let them fall freely.

Here in my meadow, there was nothing that could hurt me. My sisters' beauty did not make me feel dull and plain. My mind wouldn't be scorned for being different from everyone else's. It wasn't a bad thing here. The world wouldn't look at me like I was pitiable for being strange and old-fashioned.

Even my teachers had a hard time keeping their pity and shock hidden. Once my English teacher had told me that my paper was good but it lacked the certain stability that the others students had. It was almost primitive, she had said. When I read it again, I realized that she just didn't understand. The paper wasn't meant to be structured or advanced; it was supposed to represent me and what I thought about the topic. I had smiled and assured her that I would redo the paper. Since then, I had kept my thoughts to myself and hid in the back of the class doodling on my notes. People had begun to think of me as distant and cold and, to some, that's probably what I was. More accurately, I didn't belong with them and I enjoyed my solitude. At the high school, it was the only time I was in pleasant company. In my dreams, I had always thought that maybe I had been meant to be born in some other time. Then the dreams would end and I would be plain old Isabelle who was a normal girl living in the twenty-first century. Yet I couldn't shake the feeling and it haunted me.

"Isabelle!" Mrs. Geris, my neighbor, shouted. "Your father is home! He's home! It's a miracle!" I dropped the daisy I had been playing with and stood up so fast that I felt dizzy.

"Oh please don't be a lie," I prayed as I ran out of the meadow. Then I saw his car and burst into tears.

"Dad!" I screamed over and over. I found him the kitchen, staring blankly at the wall. He looked just like he did when he left; brown hair ruffled, freckles hidden beneath deep tan, brown eyes just like mine. The only thing different was the look in those mud-colored eyes. Once joy and mischief had danced in them but now they seemed sad and empty. When I came into the room, he looked up and gave me what was supposed to be a smile. I rushed to him and threw my arms around him.

"Daddy, where did you go?" I whispered, sobbing into his shoulder. "We were so scared."

"I know you were, darling," he replied stroking my hair. "Where are your sisters?" I sniffled and looked up at him.

"Ronnie is moving pipe for Mr. Gunderson," I answered. "Beth is in town with Aunt Caroline so she was closer to the department store. I'll call them and tell them that your home." And I did just that. Beth burst into sobs and I heard Aunt Caroline do the same. Ronnie, as always, was made of sterner stuff than us cry-babies.

"I'll be there in two minutes," she said simply and I heard a metal pipe hit the ground. Someone swore and I heard Ronnie's voice apologizing even as she started her car and drove away. Soon we were all gathered in the little living room, sitting at our father's feet and waiting for him the tell us his story. For a while he didn't talk and I could feel Ronnie and Beth's patience ebbing. I was happy to wait probably because I was happy he was alive. Finally Ronnie couldn't take it anymore.

"Dad, where were you?" she asked. He smiled sadly at her and I realized once again how much I had missed him.

"It's quite story," he said. "But before I tell it, let me give you your souvenirs." He picked a big bag and pulled out the most beautiful dress I'd ever seen. It was made out of scarlet velvet with gold trimmings. It looked very old fashioned but it would definitely stir up praise.

"For Ronnie," my father said. "Where I was didn't have jeans and this was the closest I could get."

"It's beautiful," she murmured and stroked the soft fabric. The next thing out of the bag was a pair of beautiful diamond earrings. Beth gasped when she saw then and tears came to her eyes when my father dropped them into their hands.

"And now for Belle's gift," my father said sadly and pulled out a beautiful blue rose. It glimmered in the fading light and the petals were feather soft on my fingertips.

"This is the start of my story," my father continued. "I went to the job interview and was quickly rejected. I started the drive home in defeat but then a violent storm started. The hail was beginning to crack my windshield and to make it worse, the car had died. I was forced to get out of the car and seek shelter in the woods. Before I got even close to civilization, I passed through a wall of fog that glowed. Everything in my screamed against going into it but the hail was falling hard and the wind was frigid." He paused and stared out of the window as the sun set for a time.

"What happened then?" Beth asked and he was pulled from his daydream.

"Well I stumbled upon a house," he went on. "More of a mansion really. The iron gates held the image of two roses intertwined with a knife in between them. When I came close, they opened by themselves and I pushed inside by invisible hands. They did not release me until I was safely inside the house and seated in front of a roaring fire. A table full of food was next to me and once I ate my fill it disappeared. I was immediately asleep and when I woke up I was perfectly rested. Sleeping up right in a chair made no difference. Breakfast was set out for me and I ate it quickly. I got up to leave and thanked whoever was caring for me. Then I left."

"That's it?" I interrupted. "You came and went and that's all?" He smiled at me, looking like the father I knew.

"No that's not it, Kiddo," he laughed and tweaked my nose. "After I got out of the house, I saw another path that didn't lead toward the gate. I saw a clearing and a rosebush in the center of it. I immediately thought of you, Belle, and when I got closer I realized they were blue roses. Just like you had asked for. I reached out to touch one but I stopped when a roar sounded. A shadow fell over me and a voice growled, 'I saved you from the storm and you try to steal my most precious possession. Why, sir?' I trembled in fear and explained my situation and that my youngest daughter wanted a rose. The shadow took shape and what I saw frightened me out of my wits. A monster stood before me. He had the hind legs of a wolf, the fur and body of a bear, and the fangs of a lion. His eyes though; those were the eyes of a man. They were the exact color of the roses and sparked with unnatural intelligence."

"An intelligent monster?" Ronnie scoffed. My father nodded.

"Yes," he said. "His voice was also human. I was so scared that I nearly fell on my face. Not that that's anything out of the ordinary." We all smiled at this. Our father was infamous for his balance skills. "He grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and threw me into the dungeon," my father continued. "I was in there for a good three weeks before he came back. He stormed in and growled in a low voice, 'I have decided your punishment.' I tried to stare back at him unafraid. 'You have courage, Jacob Hessiton,' the Beast said. 'Not many could look upon me for so long. This is one of the reasons that I am offering you freedom. You do not seem to be a horrible man or a cruel one but there must be justice.' I asked him what my crime was and he barked out a sound that must have been a laugh. 'My roses are the only thing keeping this forest alive. If you were to taint one with your touch, every creature, including myself, and plant would die. Only one person, besides myself, is allowed to pick them.'"

"Knowing this information, I expected that my punishment would be harsh and most likely deserved. I bowed my head to accept my fate. I was surprised when the monster kept on speaking. 'In one month's time from your departure, you or your youngest daughter shall return here. If you do not, I will find you and bring your daughter back with me anyways.' I know he would make good on this threat but I also knew that I couldn't agree to leave you here, Isabelle. 'You have a week to give me your answer,' the beast said and swept out of the room. It took me more than a week but eventually I agreed."

"You didn't!" Beth exclaimed. My father nodded and Beth puts her head in her hands.

"But we are not going," my father promised. "We will go somewhere far away and never return." I was already shaking my head.

"No we won't," I said firmly. "Let's just put an end to this nonsense. I'll go." This was met by loud protests. My father's voice was the loudest. I just sat there stroking the petals of the rose. Suddenly the petals opened and I gasped. Nestled inside was a golden band with a note attached. No one noticed. They were still yelling at me. I pulled the ring out and read the note.

Miss Isabelle Hessiton. This ring is for you. I suspected your family would give you trouble but, if you are the girl I expect you to be, you've already made up your mind about coming. If you twist it three times counter-clockwise you will be taken to the woods outside my castle where I will be waiting for you. It doesn't work in reverse so don't get any ideas. If your father arrived on time, you have exactly two weeks to use it. Don't be late.

"How rude," I muttered. "Insulting my intelligence like that. Of course it doesn't work two ways. That would defeat the purpose."

"Belle," my father said and my head snapped up.

"Please don't call me that," I said calmly. He nodded his head but it's obvious his mistake was intended to startle me and get my attention. Everyone knew I hated being called Belle, it felt like an insult. Why call me a "Beauty" when I most definitely wasn't. Isabelle worked just fine.

"You are not going," Ronnie told me firmly even as I hid the ring and note behind my back. I bowed my head demurely and hid my smirk with my hair.

"Yes Ronnie," I said as I crossed my fingers.