Stories Spun by Scenes

Princess in the Castle

"Princess, Princess! You must hurry, get up, get up!" My maid servant was prodding me to get out of bed. I was only willing to open one long eye lashed eye to glance around the room before closing it again.

"Maybe in a few hours," I grumbled, turning my back on her and burying my face in the deep satin blue pillows, absorbing the smell of downy and feel of lazy morning days. I was enjoying it, until she cut in again.

"The Queen is waiting!" Her hoarse voice urgently whispered again. Why couldn't these people just say, "Hey, your mom wants you?" like normal people? I hated the life of a princess that I know so many girls would kill to have. It was all too royal, and clean, and needy, and formal. Yelch.

"Oh? Is she, now? Well tell her she can just--"

My white mirrored double doors swung open to reveal the beckoning presence of the Queen, my mother. Although our relationship wasn't the best, I did have to admit she was beautiful. Today her straight raven black hair was intertwined into many small delicate braids piled on the back of her head, making her marble white face more obvious. She had purple ribbons strung through a few of her strands of dark hair, somehow causing her deep set green eyes to shine brighter. She had on a slightly purple-pink lip stick. She also wore a long flowing purple dress to match. It was tight in all of the right places, revealing her curves, but still keeping it clean. It clung to her waist before sweeping behind her in a long flowing train.

Some say I favored my mother. I had matching green eyes, except they are larger, more owl-like, giving me a curious quality. I had large bright pink lips and my mother's skin tone. However, my hair wasn't a beautiful raven black, but a kind of dirty light brown. Like it was dull, all of the colors taken away, leaving just a lifeless tangle of hair. It wasn't curly, or straight. My hair was more...wavy, but not even in a beautiful way. My mother always had our servants do a lot of work on it before I could be presented in front of any social gathering.

"Synthia..." My mother breathed; a fire raging in her eyes. "And what are you doing, pray tell, still inside of your bed? With your appearance looking so..." She curled her lips back in disgust and turned her eyes away, as if she couldn't bear to look at me.

"Like what?" I spat. "Like this?!" I shouted and jumped out of bed, pouncing right in front of her, using my hands to ruffle up my hair, making it even worse. I pulled down on my lips and eyes and nose, revealing all of the worst angles.

"Oh my God, Mother, is that a zit I see?!" I shout to her, sticking a nubby finger on my own forehead close to my hairline, poking at a little red dot. I feigned exaggerated fright, because I knew she was honestly horrified at the prospect of a pimple.

I snorted in laughter when I saw her face reel back in horror. A zit was the worst of her troubles. Her king handled everything she needed, but when her daughter had a zit, the world may as well end.

"Oy vey, my fingernails! You should really do something about my nail biting..." I said to her, tossing my ghostly white hands in her face, revealing ten nubby bitten down fingernails.

I didn't have a problem with nail biting; I just did it because I knew it would drive her mad.

"You...You disgusting little rodent!" She slapped me, straight across the face, making my head snap to the right and reflexively bring a hand to my rage red cheek.

Calling me a rodent would have been enough. A slap, though?

"What did you come in here for...?” I said quietly, wanting her to leave as soon as possible for what she just did to me, hating every fiber of her fabulous being. My small hands were still cupping my stinging cheek, wishing for the pain to go away, as well as the hand shaped raw red mark spreading on my thin cheeks.

"I wanted to tell you that Charles is here, for you." She offered a smile, flashing her top row of straight blindingly white teeth.

Charles. The name sent a shiver through my body. Talk about rodents. He was gross, although not in appearance. He was the guy girls swoon over, but I certainly didn't. He had the personality of an alligator. He was creepy, perverted, cocky, and arrogant.

Just wanting my mother to leave I told her, "Tell Charles I will be down momentarily. Just let me apply my make-up and fix my hair," I smiled to my mother, blinking my eyes, hoping this kiss up attitude would make her leave faster.

"Good, Darling," She said and kissed my forehead, quickly leaving and allowing the door to slam shut behind her. Her heels click-clacked on the floor and her long purple dress swished behind her. I hated how she left as though nothing had happened. I loved that she was gone though.

I turned to face my wardrobe, wondering how to play this situation. There was no way I was going to spend another "date" with Charles, but what could I do?

"Rosalia, you're dismissed," I said to my maid, not meeting her eyes, proceeding to my wardrobe as if I was deciding which would be most beautiful to wear.

"But, ma'am-"

"Dismissed," My voice came out harsher than I intended, but I just wanted to be alone. She nodded and quietly scurried out of the room and down the stairs.

I walked over to my large ominous window, overlooking my surroundings. I never stopped being awe-struck by how beautiful it seemed. It was like living a fairytale, which I suppose I kind of was with being a princess and all.

The sky was painted an array of colors, blues and pinks and purples and oranges. I stay there staring for quite some time, before I remembered Charles, my ladder, and Zach.

A few years ago I had wanted to leave for a swim at midnight, one that no one would allow, so I constructed this ladder for easy access. I still had it. Zach, on the other hand, was my refuge. He was a commoner, and I loved him. No one would ever allow it, but I didn’t care. I often escaped to meet him in Town Square or hidden alleys. He was the best bad boy every over protected princess could want.

I found the ladder under my bed and tied it securely in the window sill. I threw one slender white leg out of the window, finding the foothold, before doing the other. I stealthily climbed down the ladder, praying not to fall, and not to be caught.

Luckily, I made it to the bottom safely, only inches suspended above the water.

The stone castle hung over me, like a monster preparing to indulge. Its gray concrete brick walls were rough and hard. The castle was enormous, stretching over quite a large plot of land. It hung partially on a miniature peninsula, allowing it to be right on the water.

Today, no boats seemed to have passed through, so the water was clear and motionless. It was so smooth, every particle of water unbroken. It was a mirror, a complete mirror of everything hanging over it. It mirrored the lush green trees in the distance, the huge castle I call my home, and the beautifully water painted sky.

Chef was baking some type of cookies. He loved to cook outside, and his cookies were famous, and I had come to recognize the smell first hand. The delicious aroma wafted through the air and I wished I could have a taste. The wind was light, gracefully brushing my hair and my back, almost reassuringly.

I had been hanging on the ladder for too long, with nowhere to go but down, so I smiled to myself, and jumped off of the ladder.

I heard a pleasing splash and plunk as my body made contact with the water, and I felt the cool liquid rush over my head, silencing the world. I was maybe only inches from the surface, but I stayed under, with my eyes wide open.

I loved how my hair separated and flowed around me gracefully, like I was a mermaid. I loved feeling like a fish in the water. I loved the ultimate silence and the feeling that time had slowed. It was a whole different world.