Sleeping Beauty

By Carter Tachikawa

Author’s Notes: I figured to take a small break from “Figments of Imagination” and “Jaws of Love” to work on this baby. This is the darker, not-so-happily ever after version of the fairy tale. And yes, this includes violence, cutting, some swears, and things you wouldn’t find in the original story. A lot of things are different from the original. If it’s not your cup of tea, hit the road now. You have been warned. Oh, if you see any errors, blame lack of sleep or my bad editing skills.

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(Chapter 1)

Once upon a time, a king and queen were blessed with the birth of their beautiful daughter. The entire kingdom rejoiced and a huge feast was held. Everyone was invited including twelve fairies who were going to bless the child. Well, almost everyone…

You see, they had forgotten one person. And this one person would make sure the kingdom would pay for their ignorance.

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From the minute she woke to moment she went to bed, she kept praying for the same thing. It was the only thing she wanted. Her father was the cheapest town drunk in existence and her mother sold her body for worse but she still had this dream. She refused to give up on it. She had it since childhood.

Ever since childhood, Kristine wanted to die.

There was no reason behind death. She didn't care how she went either. It could be violent or quiet. She wanted to end this life and she wanted to end it soon. That's why she woke up with disappointment every morning. But there was a glimmer of hope that something could happen during the day. So she waited for it.

Her sisters were always much better than her. She had twelve of them and they were praised all through town. Their magic was more powerful than hers. They could heal the wounded, brighten the downtrodden, and bring anything back to life. Not Kristine. Her magic was considered ‘dark’. Anything she tried went the wrong way. She ended up harming people instead of lifting their spirits. People cursed her, spit on her when she walked by, and chased her away if they saw her.

For Kristine, that was bad enough. That and the fact that her parents always praised her older sisters. Her father’s drunken ass always seemed to remember his youngest daughter when it came to beating one of them. He would come smelling like vodka and a chicken wrapped in one, his breath fanning the room, before approaching her.

“Why the hell aren’t the dishes cleaned yet?!” He would boom. And Kristine, wincing, would explain the best she could. Her best obviously wasn’t enough. He’d go on ranting about how she was “worthless” and “lazy” and “a goddamn whore”. Then the lashings would come.

One. Two. Three. She would lose count after three. Or her mother would come home after day of sleeping with the rich folks and her father would start taking his violence out on her. The twelve older girls did absolutely nothing to prevent this. Either they were scared or they didn’t care what happened. And that hurt Kristine. Some family.

So she prayed that the sooner she died, the sooner she would be free of this suffering. At first she attempted to use magic to kill herself. But that backfired when she realized fairies couldn’t use magic against themselves. It had been written in the book of spells she got for her birthday. So she decided to try a more traditional, normal method of suicide: cutting herself.

In fact, that was exactly what she was doing the night she heard the news. In the process of cutting up meat and bread for dinner, she ended up nicking her finger. At first, she yelped and put it in her mouth. The salty blood rested on her tongue. And it was delicious. A sick smile spread across her lips. She took the finger out of her mouth and looked at the cut. A new drop of blood was squeezing out of it.

Taking the knife, Kristine decided to make that wound a little bigger. If possible, she could cut the finger off. Oh, it would be painful but a refreshing change to the beatings and torture. Perhaps then somebody would look at her. Pressing the tip of the knife into the wound, she prepared to cut through the bone.

“Did you hear? Did you hear?!”

“The king and queen just had their first child! I know!”

Hearing this, Kristine dropped the knife. Those were the voices of her sisters. She didn’t expect them to come home so early. They had been summoned by the king and queen to perform some miracle. But this was the first time she heard any of them acting so excited.

“And we have to bless the child too! He wants all of us there!”

/All of us?/ Kristine wondered. That meant her too! Usually the king and queen ignored her but this was a special occasion. If they needed someone to bless their child, they probably asked the entire family.

Her sisters kept prattling on about what to do and what they were planning to give the child. She listened to them go upstairs before getting out of the kitchen. No one was there but she did find a note on the wooden table by the door. She knew what that was by the ivory color, the red seal, and the gold lining that could be spotted from a distance. It had come from the king and queen themselves.

Barely able to hold her breath, Kristine sprinted over to the table and picked up the envelope. Taking out the white, rough invitation inside, she read the note.

“The Royal Family Cordially Invites Jack, Catherine, and their twelve daughters to the grand feast this weekend, honoring the birth of their newborn child, Aurora.” She read out loud. Frowning, she had to read it again. Twelve daughters? Surely this was a mistake! Perhaps they had forgotten that Jack and Catherine had thirteen fairy daughters. Yes, that made sense.

She heard shuffling upstairs and then the voices of four of her sisters. Even though they were whispering, the house was silent enough for Kristine to hear what they were saying.

“Should we tell her?”

“No, no, it would make her unhappy.”

“But she has the right to know.”

“We can’t tell her that she wasn’t invited! It will hurt her feelings.”

“She’ll find out from someone eventually. The king and queen just didn’t want her to be there. They’re afraid she’ll…you know…hurt the baby.”

Kristine’s body grew numb. There was no mistake on the invitation. They really didn’t want here there. No, they had forbidden to her to come. Everyone else was allowed. This hurt slowly developed into rage. What nonsense! What mockery! How could they do such a thing?! Crumpling the invitation, she began to contemplate death again. Being dead would have been so much better. At least she wouldn’t be around to hear such nasty things.

In her mind, she began to plan her suicide again. But then, she heard the back door swing open.

“WHERE’S DINNER?!” The boorish yet very clear voice of her father rang out. No doubt he was drunk again. The house was starting to smell of alcohol and something else foul.

Kristine quickly stuffed the invitation back into the envelope and in doing so, received a paper cut on her finger. She stared at it for a few seconds, watching the skin turn red, before running off to face her father’s wrath. And all the while, she kept her anger for him inside. No point in wasting it now. And no point in wishing for her death.

She had others to torture.

TBC…

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