Belle is a maid living in service of a handsome prince who she falls madly in love with. Jealous of all the other women and angry at his refusal to notice her she curses him and turns him into a hideous beast. For years they remain together in the c...
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My fingers gently brush the spots of fur underneath my eyes. The bright blue irises staring back at me through the cracked mirror fill me with so much joy. My lips pull into a wide smile showing off my pointy teeth. Usually, I hate the idea of looking at my fangs but today I don't even give them a second thought with all my attention solely on my eyes. Throughout my childhood, I hated my eyes. People would constantly ask me why I didn't like them. They are so beautiful. They are gifts from the heavens. Most beautiful eyes in all of France. It never mattered what they said I still hated my eyes and not because I found them boring which was always the answer that I gave people. No, I hated my eyes because they weren't mine in the first place. Such beautiful eyes, just like his mother's.
I barely remember my mother, her sickness is all I picture when I think of her. Standing in the doorway of her bedroom watching her wither away in her bed surrounded by maids and doctors who couldn't do anything to help her. I can still hear her cough and see the small splotches of blood on the white cloth she would use. Her yellow skin and eyes which were once so full of life barely held any light in them. And, her raspy voice whispering comforting words to me as if she wasn't the one who was suffering and in pain.
"It's okay my baby. Maman will be all right."
"But what if you die?"
"Should I die then it is because God intended it. And, don't worry, my son, for I will see you again one day."
I barely remember my mother, but I do remember her eyes. Delicate and as blue as the sky, the jewels of France and compared by all to diamonds and sapphires. It's all I have left of her, but it was the fact that these eyes weren't even mine to begin with is what made me hate them so much. Looking in the mirror all I could see was the woman who left me with a psychopath of a father who cared little for me or anybody for that matter. But now it's different. Today I have never been happier to see my blue eyes.
The distant sound of footsteps approaching echoes from the passageway behind me and a sense of dread fills me. I don't even need to turn around to know who it is. The footsteps stop when they reach the doorway and are replaced by the creaking of the door being pushed open.
"I'm surprised you're showing your face today. Don't think I haven't noticed you lurking in the shadows."
"I thought it best to stay out of your way until you decide to either forgive me or apologize for the way you spoke to me," Belle says as she cautiously steps into the room. Using the unbroken bits of the mirror I watch as she walks over to the table with the rose and leans against it. Crossing her arms over her chest and sighing she waits for me to reply to her ridiculous request.
