random drabbles

Fairy Tales

Everybody knows the original fairytales. From Rumplestiltskin, to Cinderella, to Peter Pan, everyone knows at least a few. Everybody knows of the Brothers Grimm. How they wrote all of their stories down, wrote the tales. But who actually came up with them? Who gave the inspiration for them? Who created the characters?

In a rather large village, just off of the coast of a town called Tydul, sat a young orphaned girl, no older than fourteen, sharing a story she came up with to a few of the younger children in her village. This girl, named Elizabeth, seemed average but strange in every way. Brown-red hair, light brown eyes, skin not dark nor pale, body not thin nor fat. Freckles speckled across her cheeks and few across her nose, her cheeks also painted light pink like a rose. She was not the prettiest, but most certainly not the ugliest. Not the tallest or the shortest. Everything about her was almost painfully normal, all except for her stories. She would tell the stories out in the middle of the village, not that many would listen. For the few that did, however, they would always tell her that it was only fiction. No person truly knew this young girl, not many even cared. Nobody except one.

His name was Jonathan. He had bright ginger hair, blue-green eyes, light skin, and freckles all over his face. He was the same age as Elizabeth, and her best and only friend. He was ever so slightly taller than her, and fairly lanky. They went everywhere and did everything together.