Thread:Skyfire111/@comment-39024013-20190522073810/@comment-31987187-20190522074651

Once there was a princess, said to be made out of the darkness of the night and the silvery light of the stars. She had grace unmatched, the sweetest voice and the gentlest touch. But you shouldn’t pay attention to people like that, listener. Because this princess spoke only of cruelty, twisted words hidden under layers of false kindness. Few could pick up on her snide insults and those who did were dismissed as bitter or crazy. It was impossible not to love someone so beautiful and wise, at least in the eyes of most. Would you be fooled, listener?

But to return to the story, nothing can be left untouched, even if just a mask hiding something far worse. So here comes the part of the tale you can probably predict. The part were the evil witch or fairy or whatever nasty thing they’ve thought up comes along and curses the princess. This is a fairytale, after all. It goes by certain rules. You know them, I’m sure.

Though to be fair this witch- because she was a witch, crooked fingers and hooked nose included. She even had a pet cat, even if it was a ginger tabby. But despite this she worked for the king, serving under him too help make the kingdom prosperous. A good steady job, earning her good pay and a better reputation. The witch was known to take time out her day to boil medicine and help crops grow. A good witch, by every sense of the word. It’s such a pity she was so petty. You have flaws like that, don’t you listener?

See the witch was in love with the princess, having long ago fallen in love with the scattered compliments she so kindly gave her. The witch wrapped kind words around her eyes until she could almost convince herself that she wasn’t fooling herself. Nothing would pry this delusion away from her, not there was anyone around to willing to do that.

So the witch lost herself and grew starved, longing for the gentle brush of a warm hand or a compliment without any meaning. She ruined herself and tore herself apart and yet she didn’t seem to care.

Yet a small voice eventually came to her. Let’s call her a bird, because she wasn’t quite human. Let’s call her beautiful too, though her and the witch made a rather plain pair. Only the villains aren’t beautiful in fairy tales.

But she was truthful, her whispers winding her way into the witch’s mind until slowly the veil was torn away from her eyes.

Now consider this, dear listener. Do you take kindly to people who lie? Most people don’t. Most people don’t take well to something previous being taken away from them. The fact that thing was false is irrelevant. It still hurts.

So the witch lashed out, breaking all of the fancy vases in her room at the palace. She yelled at the bird, tore her mousy brown hair out and cried. The crying lasted the longest, then she stopped and the anger grew solid. It took he form of books piled on every available surface and a scowl on her face.

The books are important, listener. They were full of cruel spells, to curse and trap.

END: So don’t wake the sleeping princess, listener. Your shining armour won’t protect you from heartbreak and pettiness. Fairytales hold some truth, after all.

Prompt: “Please don’t wake the princess. For yourself, for me and for all those living here.”