Where We Belong

Prologue - The Strange Letters

Rapunzel woke up to bright sunlight shining through her window. It was early - about 6:30. She and Pascal, her chameleon friend, decided to play hide-and-seek.

In other words, he'd hide, and she'd find him.

Once they'd been playing for a while, Pascal ran out onto the windowsill. He hid right by a flower pot and changed his scales to blend in. Rapunzel whipped the window open. "Ah-ha!" She looked around. "Well," she sighed, "I guess Pascal's not hiding out here."

He snickered once it seemed like she was gone. Then he felt something soft wrap around his tail. He was hoisted right into the air, and shrieked. He came face-to-face with Rapunzel, who was upside down, right as she said, "GOTCHA!"

He panted, as she set him down. "Let's see... That's 22 for me. What do you say... 23 out of 45?"

He gave her a look. "Okay then. What do you want to do?"

He smiled and uncurled his tail. He pointed at the land around the high tower.

She sat down on the edge. "Yeah, I don't think so." She placed the little green guy on her knee. "I like it in here, and so do you." In response to another dirty look, she said, "Come on, Pascal. It's not so bad in there." She flipped her legs back onto the small balcony.

She ran inside, her incredibly long golden-blonde trailing behind her. She used said hair to climb up the support beams to the roof of her tower, and threw a loop over a latch. She pulled down and the large roof opened up, letting in a huge beam of warm sunlight. Then she slid down as if she were on a fire pole and landed by a small antique clock. Letting Pascal walk into her hand, she thought of a song that could go with her morning routine;

Seven am the usual morning line up. Start on the chores and sweep till the floor's all clean. The dust she swept up didn't quite land in the dust pan - it mostly settled on Pascal.

Polish and wax, do laundry, and mop, and shine up. She rushed around her little tower, cleaning whatever she could find.

Sweep again, and by then it's like seven-fifteen. And so I'll read a book - or maybe, two, or three. I'll add a few new paintings to my gallery. I'll play guitar and knit and cook and basically- She eyeballed a big wooden thing over the fireplace. -just wonder 'when will my life begin?' She began a large painting where the wooden ornamental piece had hung.

Then after lunch it's puzzles, and darts, and baking. Paper-mache, a bit of ballet, and chess. She wound herself up in her hair when she attempted to dance. Pottery, and ventriloquy, candle making. The room smelled like hot wax. She huffed.

Then I'll stretch, maybe sketch, take a climb, sew a dress! She added to her large painting, and pulled herself up her hair. The little purple dress she'd sewn looked adorable on Pascal, who's thoughts were going in a COMPLETELY opposite direction. Then I'll reread the books, if I have time to spare. She tried to seem cheerful, but she failed. Miserably.

I'll paint the walls some more - I'm sure there's room somewhere. She stared up at the wall of her tower and spied a likely place. And then I'll brush and brush and brush and brush my hair, stuck in the same place I've always been. She'd traveled all over the tower, hanging her hair over any surface she could fine to keep it organized.

And I'll keep wondering, and wondering, and wondering, and wondering 'When will my life begin?' She tossed her hair in a spiral around herself, and then wandered to the window. Tomorrow night, the lights will appear, just like they do on my birthday each year... She turned back to her painting, which was of a deep blue sky with lovely glowing lights. It was framed by deep red curtains, giving it a beautiful, mysterious vibe. What is it like out there where they glow? Now that I'm older, Mother might just let me go... She smiled sadly as she added the final touches to the picture; Rapunzel herself sitting on a tree, watching the lights.