So to begin a story and already things have been broken. A sentence, let alone a story should not begin with a so. But, oh there we go again, no one ever got into gaol without breaking a few rules (except if you're unfortunate enough to land on a particular space on a particular endless board game with a canon that could be mistaken for a spindle). A gorgeous princess pricked her finer on a spindle and a seemingly endless (much like that board game) slumber emitted itself over the land. What if she had woken to find her staring at a rather ugly prince, or someone who was not a prince at all? Would she then have disregarded true love to decide her own fate? Of course though it was not something to worry about, though some people these days worry so much about it they give those ugly, richly-challenged folk a wide birth.
Things are escaping now, what has happened to this story? Well I will tell it now and hopefully we shall have an happily ever after.
It starts with a girl in love. She is mostly blonde, sometimes a muddy yellow in the light and if one asked she might say she has brown eyes. If the boy she was in love with looked he would say her eyes were the colour of the depths of her soul but that was only in her dreams.
She was only in love with him because of her dreams. One night when she had been racing through a forest, maybe enchanted maybe not, with something, maybe people maybe wolves, chasing her, he had stepped behind her to block the predators from her path. In such bravery that it could only be an act of love, he said not a word but motioned for her to keep running and she had.
Apparently everyone you see in your dreams is someone you've actually seen, whether they are remembered or not, and so she knew this boy that had saved her existed somewhere. The need now was to find him.
He was someone with terribly pale skin and dark hair and darker eyes. He was majestic, subtle and her true love. As she longed to one day meet him she wished she were in a fairy-tale. Then a fairy godmother would pop out and whisk her away to the boy, presumably a prince and they would be married by the next moon.
Alas no witch with wings was about to pop out and she was left to dreaming. She had not a single idea of who he could be or where he could be. He could be on the other side of the world, or if she were lucky he would be on the other side of the street. If she had any inkling of a thought she would have searched but instead she attested to waiting. Many people got things from waiting, and the others got things from the wave of a wand. Like a princess in an ivory tower of marble the only way to freedom was to give herself time to grow.
And grow she did. Her nails obtained the optimum scratching length and the lines beneath her eyes edged towards permanency. It had been two wholes month and she was worried he would never come her way.
If he had not been her true love she would have lost interest in him and though he never appeared in another dream she thought about him all the time. The way his eyes had captured hers with a message of safety and how he hadn't showed a single sliver of fear. Her head was filed with images of his wonder.
Now at this point in the story there are three options. The first is that she nevers finds him, someone else comes her way and they're all happy (but not as happy as she could've been). The second is that she finds him, they fall and in love and live happily ever after. The third is that she wakes up and it's all a dream, but that would involve a certain young man who could've fit on the plank of wood and unfortunately he's not making a sudden appearance. It is hard though which ending to pick. Everyone wants people to be happy but if everyone was too happy then there'd be no tears and no worries of making a pool that has to be swum in. Which sounds rather nice actually.
One day she was sitting on the couch, flipping over the pages of a magazine she couldn't recall the name of. When she heard the doorbell ring she didn't pay attention but when she didn't hear anyone in the house stir she lay down her magazine and went to answer it.
Of course when she opened the door to her true love she was shocked. Of course no words came to her mind or her mouth. And of course when she realised she knew exactly who the dream guy was she wasn't sure whether to let her mind think another thought.
He was there, standing before her in his all his glory. And he was eight.
Out of everything she managed to wonder why her eight year old neighbour was standing at her door and she learnt that he had lost his ball over her fence. She led her true love through the house and helped him search for the yellow ball which they eventually found.
She sent him away with a smile. He was the boy with the pale skin, dark hair and darker eyes, he was her true love. One day she knew she would marry him. Now that she knew who it was she knew she needn't worry, age was an issue at the moment concerning their marriage. But once she grew some more he would realise she was his true love and he'd come to whisk her away to his palace where they'd live happily ever after.
For now though she had to be content with dreaming unrealistic things because really, what else is there for a nine year old to do but dream of happily ever afters.