The Writing Rock

16*

Rapunzel doesn't leave the house. As much as she may want to, it is very much against The Rules set by her mother Gothel. Truthfully, every other rule on the enigmatic list was simply an extension of this one rule.

Gothel believes that the outside world is too dangerous for her teenage daughter. Teachers are too harsh, girls are too mean, boys are going to be boys, no one can be trusted. Rapunzel would never be safe out there. So, Gothel keeps Rapunzel at the house. She's homeschooled, and allowed only under close supervision to socialize via the internet with every email penpal hand chosen by Gothel.

But, Rapunzel knows there is more. Books and paintings and music and everything just screams at her that the world is so impossibly huge and lying just outside her front door. She slowly but determinedly begins to probe Gothel, wondering why exactly she can't ever leave.

"Teachers are too harsh, Honey. You haven't seen, but believe me, public school isn't good for you. Aren't you happier here?"

"Girls are too mean, Sweetie. Believe me, they will judge and backstab and leave you feeling worthless. Aren't you happier here?"

"Boys will be boys, Dear. Believe me, a beautiful girl like you would not last a second under their gazes. Aren't you happier here?"

The responses are always similar and convey the exact same message: "It's too dangerous for you. You should be happy here."

Time passes and Rapunzel remains as far from freedom as ever. Finally, for no reason in particular, the last straw snaps. Rapunzel grabs a baggy change of clothes from her dresser, a pair of electric clippers from her mother's room, and locks herself in the bathroom.

Taking her time, Rapunzel first removes her outer layer of clothing. In the mirror she was taken aback by her own reflection, her own body. This person in the mirror looked like her, moved when she moved, had her same feet, legs, hips, waist, bust, arms, shoulders, neck, chin, lips, nose, eyes. Hair. But, Rapunzel felt as though she and her reflection were strangers. As strange as her body may have felt, she knew feeling this disconnect would make the next part easier. Taking a pair of scissors from the cabinet, she leans over the sink. Taking one long moment to look at her thick, dark, hair, Rapunzel gathers it all in her fist. She sucks in a deep breath, raises the scissors and brings the blades down. Hair falls in massive locks into the sink. She lets out her breath as they cover the counter.

Over the next hour, Rapunzel takes off as much hair as she can with the scissors. While she works, Rapunzel takes no real notice of her reflection, only which piece of hair to take off next. She's left with a scraggly patchwork of brown wisps. She then takes the extra fluff off with the clippers, the buzzing against her head sending shivers throughout her body. When she finishes, she runs her hand over the even peach fuzz, not ready to look in the mirror and face what she's done.

Rapunzel moves only her gaze from the white porcelain of the sink to the mirror, not yet raising her head. Brown eyes look into brown eyes and Rapunzel carefully rises to meet her reflection straight on.

She tries not to cry.

In front of her stands the body of a young woman, effeminate in every soft edge and curve, but the portrait is stripped of any gentleness. Rapunzel wears no makeup, leaving her face barren and exposed with rosy, acne-dappled cheeks whose slight fullness is the only indication that this is the face of a girl. Normally, her waist-length curtain of brown hair would scream of femininity, but it is lying in heaps in the sink and on the floor. Rapunzel tears her eyes from her buzzed hair. She puts on the sweatpants and sweatshirt she brought to change into and completes the transformation. No one would look twice at someone like her now. Boys, girls, teachers, adults, no one would bother. Gothel could no longer use Rapunzel's own body as a reason to keep her away from the world.

She is safe from the world now.

She is free.