Author: DarkBlysse PM
Oneshot fairytale rewrite done for my Psych class. Goldilocks finds new challenges in her fairytale as she battles Obsessive Compulsive Disorder as well as the big, bad bears in the woods. Enjoy and let me know what you think.Rated: Fiction K - English - Parody - Words: 1,953 - Reviews: 14 - Favs: 3 - Published: 05-14-07 - Status: Complete - id: 2361633
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A/N--I did this for a psych assignment last semester. I fixed it up a little more before posting, but it's essentially the same. The assignment was for us to pick a fair tale and give the main character(s) a mental disorder. I decided to give Goldilocks Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) since everything in the house comes in threes, and she keeps trying to find the things that are 'just right,' even without the bloody OCD. And OCD is something close to my heart, as I have it, though it's not severe enough to ruin my life, as some people's is. I even added a personal touch by giving her some of my own compulsions/obsessions. I'm not telling which ones they are, though. ;P Oh, and I had no clue what category to put this in, so it's in fantasy. 'Cause bears can't make porridge. Enjoy and review!
Full Title: Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Bears? Did you say bears? Have they washed their hands lately? Have they? Oh, god! I've gotta go wash my hands now…I should be back soon…maybe an hour or so…oh, god…
One day she was sitting on the hearthrug playing with her blocks and checking them to see if they were lined up just right, and you would've thought she was as happy as a queen, and quite contented to stay where she was instead of wanting to run about the filthy world, getting infected by all manner of deadly diseases. But it just so happened that she'd started taking a new medication (called clomipramine) a few weeks earlier and it was working better than the other SSRIs she had taken.
So, Goldilocks got up and trotted away into the woods behind her mother's house, even though she dreaded the thought of all the nasty germs all around her, and how quickly she could get sick and die if she wasn't careful. Goldilocks spent so much time worrying about whether she'd checked the locks enough times before she'd left that she wandered on and on until she was in a part of the woods where she had never been before.
Now, in the woods there lived a family of three bears. The first was a great big bear, the second was a middle-sized bear, and the third was a little teeny tiny bear, and they all lived together in a funny little house, and they were very happy there.
Goldilocks stopped when she came to the bears' house, and began to wonder who lived there.
"I'll just go in and take a look," she said--making sure to count the Is and Ts in her sentence, and that there was the same number of both. And so she walked up to the door, taking a fresh piece of tissue from her pocket so that she could touch the doorknob. But no one was home, for the bears had all gone out for a morning walk whilst the porridge they were going to have for breakfast cooled upon the table.
Goldilocks was rather hungry after her walk, and the porridge smelt so good that she began to wish the people of the house would come home so she could ask them about the porridge. Did they wash their utensils properly? And what about their hands? She didn't even want to get started about where they might have bought the porridge and how the store might have handled it.
So, hunger driving her to, she inspected the kitchen, looking everywhere. She looked under the table and in the cupboards; beneath the sink and along the floorboards; she checked for bottles of cleaner under the sink--of which there were plenty--and how clean the dishcloths looked to be. Nonetheless, she could find no signs of neglected hygiene. But although she couldn't find anything that would make her sick, she was still wary of the porridge. So, Goldilocks inspected the tantalizing cereal.
The porridge had been put into three bowls--a great big bowl for the great big bear, a middle-sized bowl for the middle-sized bear, and a teeny tiny bowl for the teeny tiny bear--and beside each bowl lay a spoon. (Of course, Goldilocks didn't know the porridge was for bears. Had she known, she most certainly would not have even contemplated eating it, for she suffered from severe ursaphobia).
How perfect! Goldilocks thought. Everything in this house seems to come in threes, my favorite number! That made up her mind. Surely, something arranged in such a perfect number could ever harm her.
After washing her hands three times, she took a spoon and helped herself to a mouthful of porridge from the great big bowl.
Ouch! How it burnt her mouth. It was so hot and she didn't like it at all. Her mouth was much too hot now.
Next she took a spoonful out of the middle-sized bowl, but she liked it no better for it was too cold. She'd have to even out her mouth now, for it was much too cold. She took a small bite from the great big bowl, but that just made her mouth a little bit too hot. Going back to the middle-sized bowl helped a little, but it took her several more spoonfuls of both until her mouth felt good and normal. How terrible it would have been for her, had she not been able to make he mouth feel 'right' again!
Finally free of that horrible discomfort, Goldilocks tasted the teeny tiny bear's porridge, and it was just as she liked it. Thank goodness, she didn't have to go through all that again! There had been many a time when Goldilocks had sat at the dinner table, taking tiny mouthfuls of food for over an hour just to make her mouth feel 'right.'
When she'd finished the porridge, she noticed three chairs standing by the wall. The house just seemed to get better and better every second, in Goldilocks' mind. One was a great big chair, and she covered it with tissues, climbed up, and sat down. Oh dear! How hard it was! She was sure she could not sit there for long, so she got off and went onto the next chair. After putting a suitable layer of protective tissues over it, she climbed up onto the middle-sized chair, bit it was too soft for her taste. She went onto the last chair (properly protecting herself first, of course) which was the teeny tiny chair and it suited her exactly.
It was so comfortable that she sat on and on until, if you'll believe it, she actually sat the bottom out. Then, of course, she was comfortable no longer, so she got up and began to wonder what she should do next.
There was a staircase in the bears' house, and Goldilocks thought she would go up it and see where it led to. So she went up, counting the stairs as she went. Eleven stairs? That just wouldn't do. That wasn't a good number at all. She'd have to do that over again until she got to a better number. She would have stopped when she got to just 33 stairs, but something just didn't feel right; so she kept right on going for nearly half an hour until she reached 333 stairs. Yes, that felt right as rain and she ceased in her stair climbing.
When she reached the top she laughed joyously, for the bears' bedroom was just as wonderful as the rest of the house. In the middle of the room stood a great big bed, on one side of it was a middle-sized bed, and on the other side there was a teeny tiny bed. Goldilocks was sleepy so she thought she would lie down and have a little nap.
First she covered the great big bed with tissues and laid down on it, but it was just as hard as the great big chair had been. So she jumped off and secured the middle-sized bed, but it was so soft that when she climbed up onto it she sank right down into the feather cushions and nearly suffocated.
"I think there might be a pattern forming here," she said. "This house is just perfect for me with all of these numbers and patterns!"
After covering the teeny tiny bed with tissues she got on and it was so comfortable that she soon fell fast asleep.
Whilst she laid there, dreaming of all sorts of pleasant things (all in threes, of course), the three bears came home from their walk very hungry and quite ready for their porridge.
But, oh! How cross the great big bear looked when he saw that his spoon had been used and thrown under the table.
"Who has been tasting my soup?" he cried in a great big voice.
"And who has been tasting mine?" cried the middle-sized bear, in a middle-sized voice.
"But who has been tasting mine and tasted it all up?" cried the poor teeny tiny bear in a teeny tiny voice, with tears running down his teen tiny face.
When the great big bear went to sit down in his great big chair, he cried out in his great big voice: "Who covered my chair with tissues and then sat in it?"
And the middle-sized bear cried, in a middle-sized voice: "Who covered my chair with tissues and then sat in it?"
But the teeny tiny bear cried out in a teeny tiny voice of anger: "Who covered my chair with tissues and sat the bottom out?"
This time the bears were sure that someone had been in their house quite lately, so they looked about to see of someone was still there.
There was certainly no one downstairs, so they went up the staircase to their bedroom.
As soon as the great big bear looked at his bed, he cried out in his great big voice: "Who covered my bed with tissues and then laid in it?"
And the middle-sized bear cried out in a middle-sized voice: "Who covered my bed in tissue and then laid in it?"
But the teeny tiny bear cried out in a teeny tiny voice of anger: "Who covered my bed in tissues--and is still lying in it?"
The teeny tiny bear wailed and cried so loudly that it woke Goldilocks up. Oh! How frightened she was when she saw the three bears standing beside her. Sure, there were three of them, but they were still bears and Goldilocks was ursaphobic.
She hopped out of bed and in a second she was out through the open window. Never stopping to wonder if the fall had hurt her or what manner of bugs and germs she had picked up when she hit the ground, Goldilocks got up and ran and ran and ran until she could go no farther, always thinking that the bears were close behind her. And when at length she fell down in a heap on the ground, because she was too tired to run any more, it was her own mother who had picked her up, because in her fright she had run straight home without knowing it.
The moral of the story is: Never do your rituals in a strange house, because you never know who might live there.