The Accidental Siren

5.5 Fairytale Part One: The Girl

18 EXT. THE CASTLE OF THE EVIL PRINCE - DAY  18

THE PRINCE has his sword against THE GIRL'S throat. She's scared... but then she remembers her father and all the things he taught her. Right before she gets killed, she kicks the man in the leg and grabs her sword and fights him to the edge of the roof!

They fight some more, then the girl pulls her arm back and swings her sword as hard as she can and hits the prince's sword and it flies to the ground. She puts her sword to his throat and he crawls backward to the very edge of the roof.

“I know you have my father!” Mara yelled, the tip of her fencing saber in the middle of Ryan's chest. “Tell me where he is!”

The boy held up his hands in protest, just like we talked about. “Your father owed me taxes!” he exclaimed with theatrical bravura. “He said he couldn't pay!”

“Where did you take him?” Mara demanded and forced him a step closer to the ledge.

Mrs. Greenfield held the boom like a pro. 

Livy watched her boy from the sidelines. 

Another gust of wind snapped at Mara's skirt and hair, adding serious production value to the scene.

“I didn't take him anywhere!” Ryan pleaded. “I... I...”

“You what?” Mara asked.

“I... I...”

“Tell me!”

“I killed him!”

I zoomed into Mara's mud-crusted face and focused the lens on her confusion.

“K--Killed?” she asked.

“Yes. I sent him to his death!”

Mara's eyebrows pulled together at the bridge of her nose. Her irises danced as she searched for truth. “Where is... 'death'? How do I find it?”

Ryan loosened a coy smile. This jerk was good. “It means he's dead, little girl. And he's never coming back.”

Mara froze. Her eyes settled into a blank stare. The bewilderment on her muddy face could break a heart. Then she lowered her brow in a terrible scowl and charged Ryan with the tip of her sword.

“Cut!” I yelled. 

Ryan burst out laughing. “Dang, little lady! You're crazy good! Have you done this before?”

Mara combed her fingers through her matted hair. “First time in front of a camera.”

Mrs. Greenfield lowered her arms and blotted a tear with the sleeve of her blouse. “You're all so talented!”

Livy ran to set. “Ryan needs a touch up,” she said and pulled out her powder. 

Thanks to my role as Obnoxious Little Brother, I rarely saw my sister's genuine smile. But I saw it that day; a pretty smile that brightened her face, enlivened her mood, and bestowed her stance with confidence. (As she dusted Ryan's face, she couldn't contain that smile if she tried.)

Mara noticed it too. Our eyes connected for a split second, just long enough for the girl to flash me a look of concern that she had intended to keep hidden. As she turned to leave, Ryan stiffened his posture to better watch over Livy's braids.

I inhaled, held the air, then released. “All right, everybody!” I said. “Let's get the mannequin!”