Happily Ever After is an understatement for my parents. One thing I should tell you is that this story does not start with Once Upon a Time. As you probably noticed, it started with what a story usually ends with. So, if you’re using logical reasoning, it’s not going to close the curtain with The End.
Something else you should know—my parents are Cinderella and Prince Edward. I know what you’re thinking, “But who is Prince Edward? What ever happened to Prince Charming?” Stop thinking that. My dad’s name is Edward. I am the only one who calls him that. Everyone else calls him Prince Charming, which I think is just plain dumb. I mean, who’s Prince Charming? Sleeping Beauty’s husband, Snow White’s husband, or my dad? It gets VERY confusing. Anyway, this story is about me, not my parents. So, let’s get this over with.
Twenty-two years ago, Cinderella gave birth to a small baby girl. She had fair blonde hair and wide blue eyes. Sadly, it wasn’t me. This young girl was my sister Madeleine. She was pretty much perfect. My mother and father were thrilled to have such a wonderful little girl.
Another two years passed and Cinderella found herself holding yet another adorable little girl. She had curly black hair and rosy cheeks. Once again, it wasn’t me. I know, it’s disappointing, isn’t it? This beautiful baby was my other sister, Isabella. She was just as perfect as Madeleine; maybe even more perfect considering she was two years younger.
Another three years came and went. Cinderella was back in the hospital—Edward feeling like the waiting room was his second home. This time (finally!) it was me, but I was not as appealing as my sisters. I had wild hair that was the color of fire and a nose colored in freckles. Thus, my life has been a tragedy, yet it is still considered a fairy tale. Now, let us continue our story into the depths of my feelings and thoughts.
I am not a princess. I seriously would be surprised if someone came in here and told me I was a princess. I feel like a rag. My mom is such a hypocrite. She asked me if I wouldn’t mind spending the day around the house. Stupidly, I agreed. Now, while she goes out to pick dresses for her fancy balls, I’m stuck dusting the shelves, washing the dishes, and of course—tending to the fireplace.
I grumble to myself as I throw in the wood. “Wait! Why am I doing this?” I wondered aloud. I marched myself downstairs and into the ballroom looking for my sisters. That’s not what I found. Instead, I found myself looking in on a gigantic party; my family smack dab in the middle of it.
I’ll admit—I was hurt. I felt like I was being stabbed with one of cook’s sharpest cooking knives. I felt my eyes stinging. Then, I took a deep breath. Anger replaced my sadness. I stormed past all the people giving me stares and marched right up to my mother.
“Hello, Mother,” I whispered in her ear.
She spun around, quick as lightning. “Darling,” she squealed. “I . . . I was . . . I meant to . . . ,” she stuttered.
I gulped down some of my anger. I regained it a few seconds later when she turned and had a five-minute conversation with a duchess. Finally, she turned back toward me again smiling and then suddenly regaining a straight face.
“Why?” I asked. I didn’t even need to shout. “Why would you treat me exactly like your stepmother treated you?” I felt my face burning, and I held back the temptation to go bury my head in a pillow and cry.
She just stood there, staring at me sadly.
Then I had the best idea in the world. I ran. Ran, ran, ran, and ran. I ran out of the castle and through the village. I stopped at the far edge of the village and perched on a rock. Tears poured down my face as I stared up at the moon.
“Had a rough day?” said a voice. I jumped. Behind me was a tall, good-looking boy. He looked about 18, so I guess technically he was a man.
“You have no idea,” I replied.
He sat down on the grass beside the rock. “I love nighttime . . . so calming. Especially in the wilderness where there are no wild parties going on.”
I stared at him.
“Where are you from?” I asked. He looked at me and said.
“Just another kingdom,” he let out a sigh. I decided not to question him. He gets up and starts to walk into the wilderness.
“Wait!” I called after him. I was curious. “Can . . . can I come with you? I mean, you look like you feel just like I do.” He smiled.
“After you, miss,” he replied pointing me toward the dark woods. I grinned and ran after him. Our long journey together has begun.
Together, we journeyed through the forest, scavenging for food. One night, there was a certain chill in the air. So, we started a fire. I was searching for wood when I heard a rustle I stopped and listened carefully. “Hsssss.” I knew what that meant. Then, out of the bushes came a 12-foot long, viper snake with startling sharp fangs. I screamed.
“Help!” I shouted. No one came. Well, I wasn’t waiting around for a boy that I hardly knew to come save me. I started to back up. Then, I stumbled. I fell flat on my back. As I scrambled up, I got a glimpse of what I tripped over. I saw a rusty bronze hilt. For a moment, I just stared at the snake, and it stared back. Then it flicked its tongue and charged quick as lightning. I bent down, my eyes still on the monster, and grabbed the shiny object. I pulled out a sword and stabbed the snake with all my might. It let out one last hiss that fell flat on the ground. I stood there, the sword in my hand, breathing hard. Then, I grabbed the few pieces of wood I had found, and I marched back to our camp, my heart beating like a drum.
Once we had the fire up and burning hot, I told my companion of my journey through the woods. He looked at me, his light blue eyes round as saucers. After I finished the story, he gulped and said, “Umm . . . well I guess I missed out on all the fun!”
I shrugged and joked, “Yeah, I attack 10-pound viper snakes every day of the week!” We laughed through the night, and for the first time in my life, I felt . . . happy.
It was about noon when they came. We were setting up camp in a lock of empty fields when about a dozen knights burst out of the forests about a mile away and came racing up on horses.
“Aha!” the general shouted. “We have found the lost prince. You’re coming with me, sonny.”
I looked at the boy. “What is your name?” I asked firmly.
“Look, I . . .” he started.
“No! Tell me your name,” I demanded.
“Eric,” he said. “Eric from the kingdom ruled by Snow White and Prince James.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I turned and ran from him.
“Wait!” he called. “I didn’t even get your name!”
I turned, “From the kingdom ruled by Cinderella and Prince Edward, I am Princess Thalia.”
I was heartbroken that I had lost the only friend I had ever had. I cried for so long that it was early in the morning when I stopped. While I was crying, I made a decision. I chose to re-enter society. I would find the nearest kingdom and lay low until my parents sent their men out to find me. I journeyed until I found a village and a place to stay. I should have checked to see where I was first.
One morning, I was lying in bed, my hands over my eyes, when there was a knock on my door. I groaned and got out of bed. I swung open the door. I bent down, picked up the kingdom’s newspaper and headed back inside. What I saw made me drop the newspaper.
The front page said
Royal Wedding!
Come see Prince Eric and
Princess Rachel on Saturday the 10th!
My heart was pounding in my chest. I yanked open a drawer and changed into my day clothes. I was going to get my prince back!
It was late evening on Friday the 9th. I came to the castle with a basket of flowers.
“Flowers from the kingdom of Cinderella,” I told the guards.
“Nice try,” they told me. “In this kingdom, we despise Cinderella and her king.” There was no tricking these guys.
“Of course,” I said. “My apologies.” I turned back.
After I passed the castle spiral and made sure I was out of the view of the guards and other visitors, I put my face between the cracks of the bricks in the tower. I started the climb up to my destiny.
That hurt. I had almost gotten to the top when I slipped. Instead of climbing the extra steps I needed, I threw myself over from three feet down. My body hit the top of the tower, and I now have an ache in my side. I tiptoed down the spiral staircase and into a messy bedroom. In the corner was a bed overrun with clothes. Books, pants, and scrolls were shoved into a suitcase by the door. A tall figure sat on a stool looking into the fireplace.
Then he turned. “Thalia!” he yelled with glee.
We ran toward each other and I experienced my first kiss. At age 17. I know, it’s sad.
He smiled at me and said, “Let’s get out of this cage.” I smiled.
We should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
I understand the men guarding the prince’s room, but I think the swords and axes were a bit much. We rushed out the door hand-in-hand when a knife barely missed my head. It crashed into the door behind us and then clattered to the floor. Eric pulled a sword from his belt and took the knights on 1 vs. 2. That left one knight, who cornered me. I grabbed a scythe from a nearby fireplace. I took on the knight. There were a few close calls. Finally, I hit him upside the head and knocked him out.
Looking up, I saw that Eric had hit both of his opponents with the butt of his sword. We exchanged a glance, and then we marched down the hallway weapons at the ready.
Luckily, we didn’t run into anyone until we got to ground level. We didn’t even run into any guards. We met up with Princess Rachel.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’m here to help you. I told the guards there was a disturbance on the far side of the castle. Your secret is safe with me,” she smiled and waved us off.
We thanked her and ran away together, forever happy.
Well, I finally got my happy ending. I ended up marrying Prince Eric. We actually had a daughter. Now, it’s her turn . . . for Once Upon a Time.