Esmay, now sixteen years of age, thrust the bedroom door open with all the crippled strength she could muster. Thunk! Paint shavings fell from the ancient ceiling and into the girl’s scarlet waves. Salty tears made her eyes smart, and thus brought about blindness as she stumbled forward; they slithered like serpents down her flush cheeks. Crawling onto her mattress, she tossed her pillow aside and seized the tiny pink notebook she habitually hid underneath it. She used a palm to scrub at her eyelids while she slipped through the endless pages of distress, searching for a clean page.
“My ultimate goal in life is to have a fairytale ending.”
“I met an unhygienic fellow today…”
“Wearing a dress doesn’t define you as fragile.”
“Oh, God! I’m so in love I could die!”
“Something must have happened while I was away.”
“Curse you, Patrisha!”
“I suppose I’ll always be that sole ugly duckling in a pond full of swans.”
“Sometimes I feel as if I was born to be deceived.”
There were only 2 sheets remaining. Esmay gasped in astonishment, her front teeth latching suddenly onto her knuckles, reckoning that three months ago, she had a nearly full book. In that moment, she realized how rapidly her ambitions had converted to ashes and been thrown in the fireplace. Devoid of thought, the artificial redhead scrunched up into a ball and cried out in despair for a love that’d been misguided. A dream deferred.
And then she uncapped a pen and scribbled down frantically:
Dear Little Pink Diary, June 11th, 2015
THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!!!
YOU ARE READING
Deconstructing Royalty
Teen FictionSometimes I fantasize that I exist in a world of fairytales. Heck, I wish my world was a fairytale, like in those enchanting Disney classics. You know, those stories of young, beautiful princesses that long for a prince. Then, about thirty minutes i...
