The Fairest of Them All

'Smack, Squiggle, Squiggle!' is all I mostly ever see in my sisters. My three tall, graceful, radiant, loveab--oh let's just say they're perfect, okay? Well, almost. Whenever my sisters talk, walk, giggle, dance--that's pretty much all they are capable of doing--they always do their 'squiggle' thing. Between each word that comes out of their mouth, they'd smack their lips together and make this sound that only babies make when they suck on their toys as their tooth cuts in. Then they will squiggle back and forth, from side to side, like they're trying to beat the world's record of longest time twirling a hula-hoop. This, of course, drives me insane! But hey, they're not that bad, because of them it proves that I actually am the 'brains' of my 'Leave it to Beaver' family.

My 's see, well, they're your almost average-happy-go-lucky- sometimes-you-just-want-to-kill-them-sort of family. Got one too, huh? You'll learn to ignore them after a while. Me? Humph, you couldn't even pick me out of a crowd unless my ladies-in-waiting pinned an 'I'm a Princess' sign behind my back-which they sometimes do. You see, next to my tall and gorgeous family, people would just look at me and say, 'What happened to her?' or, 'What's wrong with this picture?' and ignore me. If that wasn't bad enough even my own family, my own flesh and blood, can't even look at me for as long as they'd glance at a dead rat lying on the dirt road. Go on, tell me this isn't suppose to hurt.

I think it all started when my mother gave birth to me. After my sister, Barbie, came out, a year later that I did. For some reason, I came out wrong--or at least that's what my parents say--right when I was making my way into the world something happened, you know, loss of oxygen, came out too early, butterflies in my stomach, my mother drank when she was , how else did I become ?

For the fifteen years I've 'graced the world with my one-of-a- kindness', I have had to suffer through millions of grand balls, soirées, tournaments, and such, standing alone in the corner while some princes smother my bimbo sisters with attention. And who knew where my parents were. I just stood there, alone. I wasn't embarrassed or anything, really I wasn't. I just felt so alone. So cold. So misunderstood and abandoned. And left with no one to talk , there was this one person.

'Bella' is what she had always called me. Whenever I'm upset, scared, or I feel like throwing a chair across the room I would run to the kitchen and she'll be there, that sweet, old, happy little chunk of the world, and she would quiet my fears and comfort me.

"Tell me what bother you, bella. Do not fret for Margaret is here." Is what she would say as she stroked my hair. She could not speak English very well, she was Spanish.

I never knew what 'Bella' meant but I knew she wouldn't make fun of me behind my back. She never called me by my real name though--Cleo Patrawani Constance Nivea--I doubt she actually knew my name at all. She was more of a mother to me than my own ever was. Sometimes I would ditch my sewing and etiquette lessons to go to her. She'd tell me stories about places far away, fairies and elves that dwell among the forests, and legendary knights in shining armor who rescue these damsels in distress from the evil dragons and how they fall in love.

"Love? Oh please, Margaret. Does anyone of those dorks actually know what love is?" I would scowl. She would just laugh and say, "Bella, bella, bella. The greatest thing you'll learn is to be loved, and to love in return." She would say this every time.

Love, is it when a beautiful girl wrapped in heaven's music gracefully steps into the grand ballroom, causing a silence that only mimes could hear? And her simple presence would hush the whole crowd as Prince Charming invites her to a dance. And the prince, so endearing and mysterious that a chill would run up her spine as he gently takes her hand and leads her to where everyone would see them. And each word that comes out of his mouth would send her melting to his feet and her heart running a marathon. The song will then end with a whisper of violins and Prince Charming would lead her out to the terrace, just the two of them. They'd slowly dance under the cloak of darkness that covered the sky and the stars that seem like glitter has spilled all over. And for one brief moment their eyes would meet, and his lips would gently covers hers, and they share their first kiss. A kiss that makes her want to laugh and cry at the same time, so happy that she's finally found him yet so scared that he'll run away. Doves sing at the day of their wedding day and as their carriage pulls away they can hear an old lady laughing and saying, 'Now there's someone who'll live happily ever after.'

If that is love, then I wouldn't want it. Love is the very thing that kills my heart and soul. And besides, who in their right mind could ever love me? Even I don't love me. But, when I saw how happy my oldest sister looked when her prince proposed to her, I wanted to be her. I wanted to feel how happy she felt and how it feels to be loved. I do remember my first and definitely last love.

His name was Caleb. I first saw him through the window when I was waiting for my sisters get ready for a jousting tournament. I had guessed that he was competing seeing him prepare his armor. Handsome couldn't even come close to why I was attracted to him. I decided to leave and walk down to the courtyard. My legs were totally not cooperating with my brain being that they carried me all the way to him and they didn't stop there either. I crashed into him and fell to the ground. How embarrassed I was! When I regained balance I looked up to find him staring at me. I knew what he was thinking, 'Who died and took over her body?' Typical. I was surprised when he reached his hand out.

"Need help?" he simply said.

I snapped out of trance and took his hand. I apologized for crashing into him and he just laughed and shook it off. We talked for what seemed like hours, no one but Margaret has ever paid that much attention to me. There had to be a catch, right? As I talked to him I noticed the tenseness yet comfort in his voice that made me feel secure, for some reason. Right when I excused myself and was about to leave he had asked me the question I was dreading for the whole time.

"You're Princess Barbie's sister, am I right? Princess Leo?" I could smack him right there and then but stopped. I mean, was he deaf? 'Leo' did happen to be a boys' name.

"It's Cleo." I replied flatly.

He apologized and I, of course, accepted it. I was pretty used to guys asking me if I knew those beautiful princesses and one even begged me if I could somehow sneak him in through the laundry shoot so he could meet my sister. But somehow, Caleb was different. He actually befriended me. I thought he and Barbie were perfect for each other. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

'Wait', Margaret told me once. I was talking to her about Caleb and Barbie and that was all she could say. Wait for what? She never told me. 'That's what we women do, we wait.' I just stared at her. Wait for Caleb, she means? Did she think I was jealous of Barbie? Did she really think I'm in love with Caleb? Why do all these complicated questions keep taunting me!

Three weeks had passed after that. I had become better acquainted with Caleb and was starting to forget my troubles. He was so fun to be around with and was such a great listener too. I even started to skip my archery lessons--the ONLY lesson that I actually had to plead my parents to let me take--and go visit Caleb and we would spend half the day talking. Could this be love? No, no it couldn't be. That's when my problems came flooding back. I suddenly found myself staring in front of the mirror in my bedchambers. I was staring hard at my hideous reflection, running my fingers through my hair. Above me I saw a huge drape that occupied most of the space of the wall. It was a hand-sewn portrait of my family. My father was standing humbly in the middle with my mother at his side. My oldest sister, Anastasia, stood right in front of them and in front of her were my two other sisters, Catherine and Barbie. Last and definitely least, was me. It didn't even look like the tailors put that much effort onto it. I could even see that the ends of a part of my hair were unfinished. Barbie then came bursting into my room, doing her squiggle thing. She giggled and did something that no one in my family has ever done before. She hugged me. Hugged me so tight that I couldn't breathe. I pushed her off in the most polite way that I could, she just grinned at me and said, 'Thanks'. I looked at her in puzzlement, it took me a while before I figured out what she said through those squiggles, and it struck me. I guess she had a great time riding through the kingdom with Caleb. Barbie hugged me again and skipped out of my room. I looked back at my reflection and did something I'd never done before and never thought I'd do. I wept.

Caleb was sent away because he was ordered to protect a small village since they had constantly been getting attacked by an anonymous group of bandits. Barbie was distraught but quickly got over it when she met some guy named 'Ken' or something. I didn't really care. I just wanted Caleb to come back. I wanted to run away to him, but something was still holding me back. I mean, what if he doesn't feel the same way? What if I go out of my way to him and all he really thinks of me is what everyone else does? Nothing.

I talked to Margaret. I told her everything. I told her how I felt about my family and me, about Caleb and how I wanted to run away. She just shook her head. She had refused to help me. She only told me that I was 'beautiful the way I was' and 'to live happily ever after.' Does she expect me to comprehend these? 'Happily Ever After' how I had wanted that life for so long yet denied it since I knew I could never achieve it. And I could never achieve since I was and never will be 'beautiful the way I am'. Also, that one word she had always said to me, 'Wait.' But I just couldn't anymore, I did the only thing I could do. I ran away.

I got up early one morning and stole a horse from my father's stables. I rode far away. I looked back and said goodbye to those people who couldn't look past an image, to the chapter of a life I had once called mine, and turned back to slowly turn the page to a new one.

To make a long tale short, I arrived at Calebs' village in two days. As I rode through, people kept giving me dirty looks, I couldn't blame them though. I passed through a drinking fountain and decided to take a drink. I caught myself staring back at me through the water. I looked horrible-well, at least worst than before. My hair was in disarray, my face was muddy, my so-called dress was torn up and covered with dust and pieces of grass, and I smelled like horse crap. I just couldn't face Caleb anymore now, not just because I look like Madonna but, I think I just wasted my time and his by running after him. What am I going to do now?

I quickly turned around when I heard someone call my name. My face lit up when I saw it was Caleb, and fell when I thought of how stupid I must've looked. Caleb suddenly ran up to me and hugged me, tighter than Barbie did. I smelled myself, I must smell that bad to make him loose his mind like that. He started babbling and asking questions of how I got there and why I left and all sorts, but I couldn't follow, I was too busy taking in all the attention I was finally getting. We talked all night. It turns out, he really didn't like Barbie and he only asked me that to find an excuse to keep me talking to him. Funny, huh? He said those three weeks with Barbie were the most horrifying times of his life! I swear I could've laughed right out of my chair. But those last words made me stop. Did he really go through that just so he could talk to me? Does he really long for me like I long for him? I gazed outside and saw a young boy and girl playing outside in the rain. My sisters would have fainted if they saw these children; in their ragged, torn up clothing, playing in the mud not caring that the rain pelted down on their mud covered faces. It was an ugly sight. But I saw something that they would have never noticed or even know anything about. I saw Beauty. True Beauty that I have longed for my entire life. I guess Margaret's lessons finally hit me. Being happy was like beauty, beauty that is in the eye of the beholder. Humph, that sounds familiar. I guess my life isn't exactly going the way that I wanted it to be, but I was happy. And I guess that, was beautiful.

In three days, Caleb and I were to be wed. Don't ask me how it happened, it just did. Everything went so fast I couldn't keep up with all of it. But for once in my whole life, I finally knew how it was like to be loved, and to love in return. I hope my family was as happy as I was. My family. I heard a rumor that my sisters were also to be wed, and that no one back home even bothered to look for me after I ran away. Typical. I do wish my family all my love, the love that they never showed me.

I was washing the dishes, thinking about the other news I had just heard. Margaret had passed away. I didn't cry, because I knew if Margaret saw me she'd whoop my butt. Margaret always hated seeing someone cry, especially when I did. I laughed. I thought of that sweet, plump old lady; her warm smile and her gleaming eyes. How I would miss her. I was interrupted when I felt Calebs' arms around me. I felt cold even though I was engulfed in his warmth.

"Caleb." I asked curiously.

"Yes?"

"What does 'Bella' mean?"

Caleb stared at me for a while in confusion. He gently took my hand, smiled that warm, wonderful smile of his and answered, "Beautiful."