The Frog Prince // Mr. Gold

001. THE CLOCK TOWER

STORYBROOKE, MAINE

What is it about sadness?

The endless possibilities of outcomes that could have happened. One day, you believe that these possibilities could be a reality, but in the end; Your hopes and dreams shatter into a million pieces. The roads that could have been drifted into dust. Away from your reach. Darkness overshadows any light and soon, sadness swallows you whole. Some days, sadness can be crushed. Most days, sadness is never-ending.

That's what I feel as I lay here in silence. I listen to my alarm clock bawl into the cold morning air. One arm draped across my forehead as I think of this God-awful sadness.

The thing is, I don't know why I am so sad. Perhaps it is this endless void that keeps me from truly beating this darkness. Or maybe it is because I am alone. Truly alone. Loneliness can be a terrible thing.

Finally, after a few moments of thought, my hand reaches over to silence my alarm. "Another day," my mouth breathes. "Another day, another dollar"

Every day is about the same. Each morning I awake from a sleepless night. The alarm clock signifies a new day and I am forced to drag my feet from out of my comfortable queen-sized bed. Shower, breakfast, teeth brushing, and a realization that I am late for my first shift at Granny's diner is my daily ritual.

And just like that, my morning routine is repeated;

As I remove my toothbrush from my mouth, I lean to peek through the threshold leading into my bathroom and bedroom—my eyes quickly fall onto the wall clock mounted above my bed.

"Shit," I cry out, spitting out the foamy paste. The back of my hand wipes the white substance from the corner of my lips and I dash for my worn sneakers.

There might be something missing in my life. I may also always be late for my shift, but this is only one step closer to my wishful happiness. Another day, another dollar only means - one step closer to my very own restaurant.

****

"You're late!" Ruby Lucas paused just at the second table near the entrance of the hospitable diner. Her daring hazel gaze pushes towards my direction and a sly smirk plays onto her red-painted lips. She tucks an empty silver tray under her pit and straddles one thin hand onto her curvy hip. Ruby is always quick to announce my untimely appearance, messy curls, and bewildered expression.

Every morning, right on the dot.

"Well," I began, slowly closing the diner's door. "I'm here. That's what matters."

Ruby shakes her head, clearly not buying the whole excuse. My fingers rush to take my green scarf from around my neck when heavy steps come rushing from the back office. Ruby isn't exactly someone I should be afraid of when it comes to my lateness. After all, the pretty girl in red isn't my boss. Her grandmother is.

"You're late! Again!"

A plump woman in her 60s slaps her aging hands onto the L-shaped bar counter. Her silver eyes peer over half-moon glasses as loose gray hair sweeps across her stressed creased forehead. Widow Lucas is quite frankly the scariest woman I have ever met. She could cause a whole army of men to shiver in their boots if they crossed her.

Though, despite my fear of her ruthless scolding - I only know that she means well. She after all gave me this job to help me build some foundations for my future restaurant.