Broken Ever Afters

Part 2 - Chapter 4

The last thing I can remember from my last encounter with Rumpelstiltskin is his sneer voice, reading out loud from Grimms' Fairy Tales. His words sent tingling in my hand and feet and before I know it, I'm being sucked into the open pages of the book. My body is encased in a white blinding light, forcing me to close my eyes.

Rumple's voice slowly fades away and I feel as light as a feather or a leaf dancing in the wind. A breeze brushes my face and I dare to open my eyes. I'm floating in the sky. Beneath me, acres of trees spread over a vast stretch of land.

The light-headedness subsides and I plummet towards the ground like a meteor. Trying to break the fall, I extend my arms and flap them like birds do when they fly but to no avail. Nothing else comes to mind as I try to break my landing. I can only hope for a miracle or landing on something soft.

Once near the top of the cypresses, I squeeze my eyes shut and embrace for impact. Branches and needle shaped leaves sting and slap her exposed skin before my body slams violently to the ground, making the bones in my body ache as if pulverised. The ground in covered in white snow, the one underneath me slowly being absorbed by my thin clothes.

Despite the hard fall, the pain subsides quickly and I manage to stand and dust myself off from the excessive snow. Nothing seems to be broken and I'm glad I can get going and thaw my freezing limbs. A wall of trunks surrounds me but the trees are far apart enough to let sunlight shine through. Rumple didn't give me any instructions and being alone in this unknown place give me the shivers. Where am I?

Picking a general direction, I walk straight ahead for what feels like hours. Do people keep track of time around here? Do they have clocks? Are there any people to keep time? All I've seen since I arrived are trees, trees and more trees. No wild animals run around, not even a rabbit crossing my path or butterflies flapping by or birds chirping from the branches above my head. The chills running down my spine are only partial to the cold weather. The eerie quietness of the forest is also to blame.

As the sky darkens and the prospect of spending the night outside in a cold, unfamiliar place and without shelter isn't something I'm looking forward to. My thoughts run back towards the home I left behind. What is Dad doing right now? He must be out in the city streets looking for me with Ames. We were going to meet tonight but all he is going to find waiting for him now is an empty doorstep.

I stop to lean against a trunk to catch my breath and observe my surroundings. Something flickers at a distance to my right and I turn to look at it – a yellow light. It doesn't matter how far it is or how long it takes me to reach it, I'm determined to find its source. I pick myself up and run in its direction because light means humans and warmth.

As I run, the light source slowly grows and comes into focus. It's coming from a square window that's part of a wooden log wall of a cottage in a clearing in a clearing further on. A chimney pops up at the back behind the slanting straw roof and to the side, a watermill flows by a patch of vegetables and herbs. Picturesque, like what one would imagine a fairy tale cottage would be like.

I stay in the shadows of the forest, looking at the cottage at a distance from behind a tree. Black smoke billows from the chimney. I imagine being inside the warm cottage, cuddled beside a roaring fire instead of freezing out here in the cold. The window is covered by a thin curtain but I can see the shadow of someone moving inside. Is it safe for me to go and knock? Not all fairy tale characters are friendly, or good for that matter.

Taking a daring step out into the clearing, I move out from the shadows only to quickly hide again as a man comes out of the cottage and walks to a nearby stump with an axe lodged into it. My eyes continue to trail after him as he single-handedly pulls out the axe, places a log on the stump and effortlessly chops the log in half. After chopping five more logs, the man returns inside the cottage with the freshly chopped logs.