Behind the Musings – Part 2

If you ever read my bio, you’ll know that this book was actually revised over a span of sixteen years! As you can imagine, A LOT of revisions happened in that time. The first edition Fairy tale was certainly not what it is today. Gabriella started off a sassy little wench with no love of fairy tales at all. Here’s the original, unedited version of the opening scene.

Once upon a time there was a beautiful maiden named Gabriella. She was the fairest in her kingdom of Tempton; noble, wise and pure. Her soft skin was without flaw; her black locks long and silky, her shape small and perfect. Her beauty was eminent, her splendor supreme. Her lovely face shamed even the ones of the goddesses, her mind shamed the even the ones of the seers. Her wit could captivate the solemnest of men; her charm could enchant an enraged fire demon…

Right, try…you wish. I’ve always believed that fairy tales are garbage. Who reads those things anyway? Who’s the chump that wrote them? Do you actually believe that it’s possible to have hair long enough to go out of a tower? And strong enough for a prince to climb up it? Do you believe that it’s possible to build houses out of only sticks? Or straw? And can you honestly say that pigs have enough sense to build them if it was possible? Do you really believe that a princess can sleep for one hundred years and wake up after just one kiss?

I don’t. I never liked fairy tales. I don’t believe in them, and I don’t like the way are set. Seriously, who would ever name their child Hansel? What are bears going to do with porridge? Since when did witches consult mirrors for the day’s news? And how in the world are you supposed to guess a name like Rumplestiltskin?

It’s impossible things like that that make me worry about some people. The people who enjoy fairy tales only do so they can thwart their realities. And the writers only write them because their lives stink so badly that they have to catch themselves up in imaginary worlds of castles and giants and princesses that can’t sleep on a single pea. All of that fairy stuff about big bad wolves and lively gingerbread men…garbage. The ironic thing is that when I think back I realize that I used to be stuck in one.

I lived with my aunt, uncle and their two rotten daughters, Hannah and Jessica, in a tiny manor outside the kingdom of Tempton. They weren’t really my relations, they just came a-dancing into my life in hopes of acquiring a luxuriant manor, a vast estate, endless riches, a legion of servants, and a wealthy name.

Ha! Because I was abandoned at birth, I had no name. My “luxuriant manor” had nine rooms total, and my land was limited to only a quarter of a mile around, the border being the thick woods that surrounded the place. The army of servants consisted of Anna, Sean, Ryan and myself and my endless riches came from a delivery boy who gave me 100 pieces every couple of months or so. I wasn’t sure who the money was from, but it was apparently someone who took great pity of my plight. My aunt and uncle’s family hated the very ground I walked upon and treated me as if I were Cinderella or something. Their hate blossomed from an unknown grudge against my parents. My uncle didn’t like to talk about them and made it very clear that he didn’t want me to ask. He didn’t like to be disgraced by talks of demons and didn’t feel inclined to answer to hybrid…also known as me. I didn’t understand how he could call anyone hybrid. That family was so assorted it made me wonder if they were lying about being a family like they were about being mine.

Uncle Harrison was round – very round. He had a round body, a round face, had a round height, wore round glasses, and because he was balding in the front, his head looked round. I’ll bet his favorite shape was a circle. Aunt Beth was a timid old hag. She looked it too. She had to be at least eighty. She was long and skinny, and had a bit of a hunchback. She wore a lot of makeup trying to hide her age – even though it just made her look worse. She was really random; she’d pretend to love me at times, but never but any action behind her words.

The youngest cousin was Jessica, a interesting medley of features from my uncle and aunt. She was short, long, round and pointy, all at the same time. The girl looked like she escaped from the menagerie. The eldest, Hannah, was the closest to human out of all of them. She was tall, slender, beautiful, (if you looked at her from behind) but she had a witch-like face like her mother, (pointing chin, long nose, bulging eyes, the works) and was the self-proclaimed family queen.

They must not have believed in mirrors. Okay, it’s true; I wasn’t the fairest maiden in all the land, but I sure wasn’t a globe, a hag or a run-away experiment either. And yet, I was still the hybrid. To pay for my normality, I was forced to wake early and prepare their breakfast. After everyone was served, I could then eat myself. They even graced me with the privilege of sitting with them at the table. Afterwards, I would wash the dishes, do the laundry, scrub the floors, make like a slave to Jessica, help Hannah prepare for some party, then start lunch. Even though they treated me like garbage, they would never kill me or send me away. If something happened to me, the estate would go to my twin sister, Angel, and since she was gone, they wouldn’t be able to stay on the land without her permission.

Angel had run off to be Robin Hood or something when we were seven…‘to help fight a noble fight’ as her runaway-note read. I was so upset and jealous that she would abandon me in such a broken home, but as the years past, I thought of her less and less. I had only two friends, Ryan and Sean. They lived in the large pantry we cleaned out. They used to stay in the loft in the stables, but over the first winter, they needed to come into the house. Angel told Uncle Harrison that they were going to live with us, and that was the end of the matter. Uncle Harrison reluctantly agreed, but made them work in the stables, garden and other various jobs, just like he made me work in the house.

I met Ryan in the market when I was six. He was stealing fruit. I didn’t know and when he offered me the pears and I took them, I was the one who got in trouble. I ran back home and he followed, saying they kicked him out of the orphanage. Angel was friendly to him and welcomed him to our home, but I hated him because he almost got me in some royal dungeon. He was usually cruel to me, but knew when to give it a rest. He had a big head and short brown hair. He had big brown eyes and always had an evil smirk on his face.

Sean was the nice one. We all found him singing in the forest only a week after we met Ryan. Sean was very tall with beautiful almond–shaped eyes and a constant smile on his face. He had three years on the rest of us and was a dragon. Sean was dimorphic; he could be the full-blown, flying, fire-breathing dragon, or morph into a simple human. The only thing that gave him away were his eyes. They had little vertical green splits, rather than circles. Very similar to cat eyes. Tempton was a prejudice kingdom, and many feared dragons as they were given the “man-eating” identity. Sean stayed out of trouble though as no one got close enough to him to tell.

That was my life before things got a little strange. As tragic as it all sounded, it was my life, my everything. I didn’t realize my life could be better because it never was. My only desire was to get by. Sure I thought about finding my sister, I thought about discovering the secret of my parents. But I never considered actually achieving my thoughts, actually achieving a happily ever after.

And why would I? Such actions are left to people in those silly fairy tales.

Behind the Musings – Part 1

Behind the Musings – Part 3

Behind the Musings – Part 4

Behind the Musings – Part 5