Ribbons

Ribbons

If a house could socialise, then this house, which should be describes as a manor, would be known by every person imaginable as proud and dislikeable, because of its gloomy and eerie exterior, the house may also be called a derelict death trap, but, unfortunately for the house (who is actually very friendly), it can't be called anything, because nobody knows of it's existence nor the forest it resides in. A lonely, abandoned-but wait! A light flares up in the top window, right in the centre, there, do you see it?

A young woman sits on the edge of the four-poster bed, with a candle-holder in her left hand. Nobody knows about her, but she's a princess unlike the dollies you and I read about in the fairytales. Fairytale princesses had blonde hair, blue eyes, and pink dresses, edged with frills. She has red hair brown eyes, and blue, green, and gold coloured dresses, but Prince Charming says that she is a princess, so she is. It's so simple to believe everything Prince Charming tells her. Precious Princess loves Prince Charming's words, she loves her shining silk dresses, she loves her sparkling diamond necklaces, most of all she loves her simple white ribbons, her mother had bought them for her when she was five years old. Mummy's dead now....

Prince Charming didn't like her pure ribbons. He had scolded her, acting as if he were a father telling off a disobediant child. He said to his princess that she was giving the impression that she was foolish child, uneducated and deluded. Then he tore out the prettily made-up bows and threw them on the carpeted floor, as if they had scalded his perfect, pianist hand. That was when she had cried in front of him for the first time, and he made no move to comfort her, only to walk away with that superior air he always had...eventually, he pitied her, and took her petite form into his arms and whispered a small sorry into her ear, she smiled then, and she closely reminded Prince Charming of a child that had been told Christmas was going to be held twice that year. He smild then, he closely reminded Precious Princess of an evil being, his face distorted and stretched, it was as if he had never smiled before....

Now, the same night we saw the light flare up, Precious Princess tiptoed over to her dressing table; it was a rather ugly green colour. Pitter-patter, her little feet went, she didn't want to wake Prince Charming. She opened the middle drawer, and took out her most cherished possession, her white ribbons; worn and fading into a dull white. She always took them out at night, after the incident she could barely remember, but all the same, she took them out of the middle drawer and put them in her hair, she would tie them up to make prettily made-up bows, and she'd pretend to be Aurora or Cinderella, then she would quickly remind herself that she didn't need to pretend, because Prince Charming told her that she was a real life princess, and that it would be more fun than being Snow White.

Precious Princess blew out the invading brightness emanating from the candle's flame and turned away from the mirror, before she could think of Mirror Mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all? She walked toward the balcony window, and the moon was shining bright and peacefully, then the stars began to wink at her, and she thought they were mocking her childish adornements, so she turned her back on them, and stared at Prince Charming instead.

The moon was giving his hair a shining effect to it, like a halo resided on his head; she thought he would be what an angel should look like, then she remembered his shouting, and thought that he would be a fallen angel; everything about him is dark and mysterious.

He stirred, and it was as if he could sense her eyes on him, her heart filled to the brim with fear and she stood like a statue, waiting, waiting for his anger, but he only turned his back to her, still and quiet. She hated it when he frightened her; he always succeded in making her feel guilty about something she hadn't done.

She was hit with a feeling of sadness, and she realised it was no fun being a real life princess; she wanted to be like the ones in the fairytales; perfect, plastic, and pink. She ripped the white ribbons from her neatly brushed hair, and tossed them on the linen sheets, and grabbed some matches from a ghastly green bedside table, and struck a match. Incendio....incendio, the forgotten word flickered wildly through her mind, desperately shouting, but she had no memory attached to the word, but it held some magical quality in her imagination. She stood rigid, in the ghostly moonlight, and beheld the way the flame flickered, here and there. She snapped out of reverie and glared at Prince Charming's back, and thought of the meagre flame snuffing his lights out.

Avada Kedavra....Avada....green light, it scared her, she threw the match onto the crumpled, white ribbons, and she watched the ribbons' fire spread out over the bed and then as the fire devoured Prince Charming, as if taking revenge on him, burning his body with their flaming hot fury. The flames carried themselves across the wide room, and Precious Princess sat in an untouched corner, and waited for her fairytale prince....