Fairytale

Selena

A woman stands in a poorly lit backroom to a restaurant. The fluorescents flicker over her as she slides her paper timecard through the machine. It whines and stamps her clock out time on the card stock.

Selena is in her early thirties, shoulder length blonde hair messily clipped up so it's out of the way. The strands are limp and a bit oily from her long day. Her warm brown eyes are glazed, deep rings under them. Her clothing is ratty at best, the uniform filthy and worn to the fray. A lime green waterproof jacket falls to her thighs. It once belonged to her husband.

Selena doesn't like thinking about him. She misses him. Everyday she is haunted by his memory.

He just left one day. Gone with the dawn to the arms of another woman.

No one says goodbye to her as she leaves work. Her coworkers were all either college students or old gruff men. She's the outsider, the one who got knocked up her second year of college, the one who didn't finish getting her degree. Now she has three children to care for and no way to earn better for them. She's lost to a life of meager pay and jobs in the food industry.

Standing outside the restaurant, Selena gazes up at the rainy skies. She feels dread at just the thought of walking home in this, but she couldn't afford a taxi or the bus. Oliver needs a cavity filling and she couldn't bear the thought of making him suffer longer just because she's being lazy.

If she plays her cards right she can get him an appointment in two weeks. That's if nothing detrimental breaks at their run down apartment or if Abby doesn't get sick again. She sighs wearily as she steps out from under the awning and tries to keep her bag safe from the rain by hunching her slight form.

Selena is a willowy woman, tall and thinner than she's ever been before in her life. It looks like it'd only take a good gust to blow her away. Gaunt and frail, she's an unselfish woman who gives everything to her three children. That includes her portion of food if the cabinets are collecting dust yet again.

World weary and weighed down with her troubles, the tired woman who was once incredibly beautiful in her youth, hobbles into the dark rainy night to her children.

🐏

"Oliver, could you put your sister to bed!", Selena calls out while she finishes up dinner. Her eleven year old, a brunette with taped glasses, gets up without replying and picks up his year old sister. Abby coos sleepily and snuggles into her big brother's chest.

Her middle child at seven years old, Natalie, sets the table with chipped mismatched dishes Selena found at a garage sale for a dime a piece. Natalie looks just like her mother, but resents her greatly. She covets a life her mother can't afford and blames her for it.

At the small dining table meant for only two, the family of three sits. Natalie glowers at the meal of stale macaroni and chicken nuggets on her plate. Chicken nuggets use to be a luxury her eldest two kids enjoyed. Now it just made them pout and grimace. Oliver is better tempered than his sister, having had to help his mother care for his younger siblings, but he still wishes things were different as all children do.

Selena tries to start up a conversation with both of them, her smile forced and big, her eyes glazed with exhaustion. This has no success, neither child is in the mood.

"How was school today guys?", she chirps as happily as she can manage to make her voice. The long hours at her two jobs along with her household and motherly duties wear on her. It takes all her energy just to pretend to be happy for her children. As of late, nothing really makes her happy anymore. A deep intricate depression has weaved itself into every fiber of her being.

Oliver just shrugs and grunts around a mouthful of food. He's his mother's pride and joy. So smart and kind and hardworking. Oliver has the top grades in his year and she has high hopes he'll get a scholarship. All she wants is for her children to have a better life. If one or two of them get scholarships, she might be able to help the others get through school financially. It's her greatest ambition.

Natalie grimaces at her plate, her chin resting in her hand while she pushes around her food," It's school. It sucks."

Selena's eyes widen," Natalie! Language!" Her scolding voice doesn't do much. Selena is a naturally soft spoken woman and has problems being heard even amongst her peers.

Little Abby starts squalling in the master bedroom where Selena keeps her. Her older two share the other room and all share a single bathroom. With a sigh, Selena excuses herself to go take care of Abby. The little one has been increasingly fussy at night and it's worn on her greatly. It reminds her so much of those early days with Oliver.

Unbeknownst to her, Oliver and Natalie hurry over to the window to throw the food out by the fire escape. Then they part ways without a word, Oliver to finish his homework and Natalie to play with her hair.

🐏

With her children now asleep and midnight creeping in, Selena kneels before her hidden alter in her closet. It's been a long time since she's practiced. The gods are probably very unhappy with her.

Either way she needs that guiding light her grandmother once told her the craft brings to its wielders. For years she's tried and failed to replicate  the spells in her grandmother's grimoire. Her grandmother had told her that magic was in her blood, but Selena just couldn't seem to evoke it.

"Horned God and Night Mother, hear my call....", her soft voice whispers in the derelict room shrouded in shadow.