Upon A Star

Chapter 5

The young prince snuck behind the tree, observing the entry and the exit. The hair would fall, and the cloaked lady would climb. So one night, when the mysterious, black hooded lady did not arrive, he took advantage of the opportunity.

He approached the tower and stood below the stone-arched window that floated alongside the moon. And so, the young prince recited the phrase he had memorised.

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair."

And so the hair fell down, strands of gold fell and fell endlessly and it reminded the prince of a waterfall.

He grabbed the lock of hair that belonged to the damsel in distress. So he grabbed with all his might – the golden hairs intertwined in his fingers for support –as if his life depended upon it. So he climbed, climbed and climbed.

He twisted and twirled the hair between his fingers; whilst his palms fiercely gripped and pressed against the cracked and dusty stonewall. Meanwhile his knees were arched up and his feet pressed against the stone-tower in a climbing stance.

As he climbed, the stars became crystal clear. Their diamond shape precise and clean, shimmering silver in the dark night sky – such a beautiful sight.

Once he reached the arched window, he stretched his foot onto the windowsill and steadied his balance. Digging and clutching into the depth of the ancient stone with his fingers, he pulled his body up and tumbled into the tower headfirst.

He fell on his head that felt like thunder invaded. And the palms of his hands stung throbbing shockwaves. He lifted his hands and noticed red splotches on his white sleeve. Creasing the edges of his sleeves, crimson scratches burned his skin. But he didn't mind in the moment, he wanted to find the damsel in distress, and rescue her.

Steadying himself on his own two feet, he dusted off the dirt that imprinted off the tower and onto his once clean and professional riding outfit. Looking around, he realised that this was not just a tower that lived in the stars. This was a prison.

With only one window, and only one room – he thought to himself, how could anyone tolerate a life like this?

Darkness surrounded him and all that illuminated the room was the stars and the moon that belonged outside the arched window. Enlightening the room, slowly, slowly, the prince had managed to visualise the room in a clearer approach.

Paintings; on the walls, on the ceiling – stars sprinkled the ceiling and different coloured and shaped flowers danced on the walls. Not only was the room filled with the stars and flowers, but also in another section, there was green and a light blue sky. A purple palace was detailed on top of the green that was implied to represent a hill. The purple castle had towers, but the castle was underneath the sun, and its door was open. And right outside the door, were the king and the queen – hypothetically since they had a crown painted on their head. This girl clearly dreamed of being set free. Birds flew in the sky she painted, and the yellow sun was shining with the company of the floating, marshmallow clouds.

The prince stepped closer to her paintings and pressed his fingertip on the sketches. He moved accordingly with the way the paintings flowed. It was like a story. The palace, the king and queen out in the open, next came the stars and the moon winking high above. When suddenly, his finger stopped at the painting of a tower, grey and cold stone.

The tower painting was situated in a cave where there was no palace, or the royal family, or the sky. There was just a grey arch and a tower. And one arched window, which was coloured in black. A waterfall of gold flowed from that window until it reached the bottom of the tower. And that was the end of the story. The tower. She hadn't painted any further.