Upon A Star

Chapter 3

Every day, mother Gothel called out to Rapunzel. The only way to enter the tower was by climbing, by using Rapunzel's long, golden hair. So every day she called out the same phrase; 'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.' And so she did.

Being trapped in that tower; one single room, one single window for most of her life, was all she knew. She didn't know what existed beyond those walls, beyond those brick walls that kept her away from the outside world.

Mother Gothel kept forbidding Rapunzel:

Rapunzel, don't you dare leave me.

Rapunzel, the world outside is a dangerous place.

I'm simply protecting you from the thieves, the murderers ... you are safe here, and so is your precious hair – so don't you dare cut your hair, it is magical, protect it like you'd protect your life. Because, my flower, mama knows best.

For all her years, she's known nothing more than the fact that she belongs in a secluded tower. Her only companion: her hair and her voice.

Every year, every month, every day, every hour, every minute, every second spent the exact same way. She would either be brushing her endless hair, or perhaps she would paint, if she had any more space in the tower, or she would sing, sing and sing, as it was the only sound she would hear in the airtight prison.

"Mother, I have a favour to ask," the innocent girl asked her mother, her heart pounding against her chest as nervous butterflies flattered their wings inside her.

"Ask me dear," her mother smiled as she continued to run the golden comb through Rapunzel's golden hair.

"It's my birthday soon, and I was wondering, could I possibly go outside and watch the stars?"

And just like that, mother Gothel turned red. Rapunzel imagined steam rushing out of Gothel, her eyes burned crimson and her slender eyebrows arched in disbelief.

"No my little flower," Gothel faked a serene voice. She wanted Rapunzel to stay put; locked away in the tower, in hopes that she would never escape.

"I'm sorry I asked," the longhaired girl replied with a tremble in her voice, her eyes forbade the tears to rush out, she had to fake a smile as usual, and admit her fate. She would never see the stars that twinkled in the night.

"Now sing for me," Gothel responded, shaking away the topic that her silly daughter brought up. How dare she – Gothel thought.

As Rapunzel sang, trying to conceal the quiver in her voice, a gentleman was hiding in the bushes. He was a prince and the voice that sang mesmerised him. He wanted to know more. So he stayed put, lay on the grass and rested his head in his hands. The sweet voice lulled him to fantasise a creature so magical, so unreal, and so perfect.

Once the singing stopped, the sky turned from a light blue to black. Blackness surrounded him but he didn't mind. He got up on his feet and observed his surroundings. A gigantic tower was situated right in front of him, but his instincts told him to stay hidden, so he crept behind a tree's trunk and sneaked a glance towards the mysterious tower.

Suddenly, a rope fell from the arched window – and realisation kicked in. A rope can't be so silky, so loose. This golden rope was not a rope, but hair. But how could someone possibly have that much hair? And the thought he previously had – magical, unreal – proved to be right.

A lady took a grip on the hair, and she inched down slowly and carefully from the high tower that was living in the stars. The moon was illuminated but the lady that was climbing back down to earth was too far up for him to make out any features.