This isn't another fairytale. It's not the fairytale that is told as a bedtime story, it's not the kind where the princess in the pink gown is saved by the knight in shining armour from the castle. No this one couldn't be more different. I questioned the stories my mother told me and my brother in an attempt to get us to sleep, I wasn't going to be sucked down by all the stories of the perfect world, where everything would be solved when you married. "Arianne" moaned my nine year old, little brother, I was eleven "Please don't ask questions about tonight's story" we were lying in our beds waiting for our mother to come and read to us, from a bedtime story book which had been in the Roe family for generations. "Owen!" I said crossing my arms "I have an opinion" Owen rolled his eyes and smirked "Yeah but, why do you have to have an opinion when I'm on the brink of falling asleep?" I chuckled, "Fine then, i'll have a opinion at breakfast" he fell back on his bed, "Fine" he laughed. His eyes were a different colour to mine, my eyes were bright green his were ice blue, like our mum's eyes, he also had her coloured hair. I however had my father's eyes and hair colour. Gideon, our father was an archer in the army of our king Richard the lion heart. However our mother, Gwen, was a seamstress, and a very good one, the whole town had at least three pieces of clothing made by her. And sometimes when the royal seamstress was ill she stepped in to make clothes for Royals.
The bedroom door opened, our mother stepped in. She smiled at us and sat down, she was carrying a thick, worn out book. She opened the book and began to read us the story of Rapunzel.
When she finished my brother glared at me as I opened my mouth to ask questions. I shut my mouth, our mother came to both of us in turn and kissed us goodnight. She took away the fairytale book and shut the door. I lay in my bed thinking and answering my own questions in my mind.
