They floated through the air, swirling and whirling around her head. She reached up and plucked the sentences from the sky, pulling them towards her ear so she could understand what the wind was saying.
“Pretty, pretty flowers. Pretty, pretty meadows. Pretty, pretty world made just for me. Made just for me.” a soft, high-pitched child’s voice crooned.
She cocked her head to the side, listening intently now. Before it had been a folly game, wanting to know what secrets the wind held outside this locked air door, but now her attention and imagination was captured, holding her mind steadfast in its whispery fingers.
“Pretty, pretty lady. Pretty, pretty as can be. Pretty, pretty world made just for me. Made just for me.” she smiled, the rhyme sounded lovely, a pretty tune to behold the ears.
“Pretty, pretty looking glass. Pretty, pretty watch it crash. Crash to the floor. Crash to the floor. It is no more. It is no more.” And just like that, the soft, high pitched child’s voice was ripped away from her as the wind grew angry and sped up around her, pulling and tugging at her favorite dress, yowling and screaming at her.
A shiver of dread, of danger, of destruction, of evil ran through her, and she bolted, leaving behind her dollie as she worked against the wind that forced her back, towards the air door that was slowly swinging open. She was out of the currant suddenly, and she ran. Never looking back.
----------------------------------------------------------------
She was attempting to touch the sky, the ground racing beneath her. Her dollie was swinging with the motion of her body. She was singing a made up melody, bliss encasing her like the heaviness of a thick blanket, blocking troubles from her mind.
Suddenly she stopped, looking around her. A door of heavy oak was resting against air, drawing her like a moth to flame. A warm, fuzzy feeling washed over her, making her forget about past and present.
The dominant emotion was curiosity. For we all know that it was curiosity that did kill the cat.
She reached forward, laying her petite hand on the entrance metal and pushing slightly. It swung open with the absence of sound, gliding away from her touch. She walked through, her dollie hanging at her side, looking around with glassy eyes.
It was beautiful. The colors were radiant, bright, vivid, stunning. Everything was begging to be touched, to be appreciated, to be loved. Flowers were painted with daring colors; the meadow that was surrounding her was colored with the prettiest gold she had ever seen in all of her seven years.
She spotted a path that was a sky blue color dancing through the field on its way to a hidden destination, for it disappeared into a green abyss, not letting her see what in the name of goodness it led to. The trail beckoned her, whispering and spelling out her name in the dirt, telling her to come forth and follow it to wonders and dazzlements. Smiling, she started to skip again, following the trail as her seers roamed the rich land.
Then she came to the forest, the atmosphere around her changing from beauty and amazement to wonder and delicious mystery. The path remained its blue color as it sped through.
“Pretty, pretty flowers. Pretty, pretty meadows. Pretty, pretty world made just for me. Made just for me.” she sang, happiness radiating from her.
“Snitches get stitches and wind up in ditches! Snitches get stitches and wind up in ditches!” a voice laughed, the sound swirling and whirling around her golden head.
She stopped and looked around; the curiosity that we all know did kill the cat flaring up once more.
“Hello?” she called to the still laughing voice. The laugh was high-pitched and infectious.
“Hello?” it mimicked. There was silence for two heartbeats before it laughed again.
“Whose there?”
“Whose there?” then something was right in front of her, hanging the wrong way up from a tree limb. Porcelain color was smeared all over the face; fire color circled the eyes, was painted on the lips, and dotted the nose. A water color star was on the left cheek. It was a mess about.
“Are you a clown?” she asked, lightly poking the mark on his cheek.
“Are you a fairy?” the clown asked, swinging down from the tall wooden structure. He tugged at her pink glitter wings.
“No,” she giggled, swatting away the clowns hand. “I’m a human.”
“Well, I’m not a fairy, so I must be a clown!” the clown cried, hopping up and down and clapping.
A happy sound burst from her lips again. She put a hand up to her mouth to stifle the noise.
“What is your name?” the little girl inquired, cocking her head to the side slightly. She gripped her dollie close to her core.
“My name is Deemo! And what is yours?” the clown cried, whirling around then pointing at her heart.
“My name is Isabella, but my friends and family call me Bella.” She answered, mimicking the clown’s jolly actions.
“Well, Bella! Are you here to see the Queen?” he asked, placing his hands on his torso and adapting a serious look. His eyes squinted at her.
“I guess so!” she replied, nodding slowly.
The mess about tapped his hands together once more, smiling in glee. “Then come with me, Miss Bella! And I will show you to the Queen!”
She nodded, following the clown as he started to march all the way through the forest.
“Pretty, pretty flowers. Pretty, pretty meadows. Pretty, pretty world made just for me. Made just for me.” she sang, marching in the wake of the clown and looking around her. Soft, warm, fuzzy creatures lingered on the edges of the sky path, seeming to beam at her. She smiled back, pleasure shining once more from her very being.
“The Queen has been wanting a daughter for a Princess, you know.” the clown stated as they romped.
“Oh?”
“Yes, and I think you would be the perfect Princess!”
She giggled, the thought settling happily in her mind. Oh, how she would love to be a princess!
The clown led her to the edge of the forest, where he pointed to a grand looking castle. “Follow the path till you get to the castle!”
She nodded, wondering if the clown would follow her. He did not, melting back into the dark forest with a laugh.
She began to walk again, humming her made up tune, thinking of words to add to it. She looked up, and noticed that the sky was pink, with light blue clouds. The flowers in the field around her were now pretty paper flowers, not like the ones in the field on the other side of the forest. She took no notice, however. The world around her was perfect, she reasoned. Why should silly things as the color of the sky or the feel of the flowers taint her thoughts of this world?
When she reached the castle, she stopped walking to gaze at it with wonderment etched into her face. The castle was huge, pretty, amazing. With white stone and purple water racing around it, it was a fairy tale castle come to life.
She walked across the bridge, breathing in the wonder and excitement that seemed to generate from the very stone. Inside, there were an infinite number of people milling about, doing tricks and laughing and having a grand party.
People smiled at her as she pushed through the crowd, intent on finding the Queen, who she knew would be in her grand room. Someone pointed towards a closed door, and she nodded and smiled her thanks, running towards the place with her doll clutched tightly to her.
She pushed the door open, walking in and taking in the sight around her. The Queen was beautiful, sitting on a throne made of yellow and sparkly rocks.
“Pretty, pretty lady. Pretty, pretty as can be. Pretty, pretty world made just for me. Made just for me.” the little girl sang quietly, hovering in the doorway, waiting for the Queen to invite her in.
“Come in dear! Come in!” the Queen proclaimed rather Queen like, waving with her arm and a wide smile.
She did as she was told, sprinting into the room and halting right before the Queen’s throne. She bowed low, almost toppling to the ground.
“What is your name, dear?” the Queen asked as she appraised her.
“Bella, your majesty.” She replied to the floor.
“Bella, please look up at me. You must always look at the Queen.” The Queen said, sounding stern but looking anything but.
She nodded and looked up, taking in the grandeur of the Queen.
“I think you will make a perfect princess!” the Queen proclaimed, causing the little girl to beam with happiness. “Just one thing. Princesses do not need to carry around dollies.”
“But, I love my dollie.” She protested, hugging the dollie close to her, as if protecting it.
“Princesses don’t have dollies.” The Queen repeated patiently. “So give me the dollie.”
She reluctantly handed over the dollie. The Queen snatched it up with a wide, shiver-inducing grin. She threw it onto the ground, and it caught on fire.
The little girl shook her head violently, tears streaming down her face as she watched her dollie burn. Light refracted off something as she did so, causing her attention to shift to a rather large mirror that was suspended on air to her left.
She walked towards it, curious. She looked into the mirror, thinking she would see her reflection. She didn’t, however. She saw herself, she did, but not as she was now. She saw herself pale, almost see through, staring at the air door with a grim expression.
This frightened her. Without knowing what made her do so, she reached forward, placing a light finger on the glass. It fell, crashing to the floor.
“Pretty, pretty looking glass. Pretty, pretty watch it crash. Crash to the floor, crash to the floor. It is no more, it is no more.” She sang quietly, not knowing what made her do so.
The light around her darkened, and an outraged howl pierced through her thoughts. The little girl whipped her head at the sound, as saw the Queen, who was now standing up.
Her face was twisted into a look of pure rage, and she was no longer beautiful. She was horrifyingly ugly, scary in every way possible.
“You little wretch!” she screamed, pointing at the little girl. “Now you will be forever imprisoned in a terrifying world! Wouldn’t it have been nicer to be imprisoned in a beautiful world?!?”
The little girl gasped in horror. She whirled around, sprinting for the door.
“GET HER! SHE MUST NOT LEAVE!”
She ran, ran through the crowd of scary people, people who moments before were laughing and partying with each other. They were now fighting; dark blood streaming from wounds and cruel laughs ringing through the air.
Tears streamed faster down her face as she bolted through the courtyard. The castle was no longer white, but black, the water no longer purple but blood red.
“Ugly, ugly meadows. Ugly, ugly flowers. Scary, scary world made just for you. Made just for you.” Her own voice swirled around her, but it was twisted, sounding jeering and mean.
The little girl ran across the bridge, looking up at the sky and noticing it was the same color as the water, and the clouds where now a sickeningly mossy green. The paper flowers were on fire, and she dodged the flames that threatened to lick at her and burn her to a crisp.
“Ugly, ugly lady. Ugly, ugly as can be. Scary, scary world made just for you. Made just for you.”
She ran and ran, sprinting into the woods that no longer looked mysterious, but looked dangerous. The fuzzy creatures were now evil monsters, staring at her with beady, hungry red eyes. She heard the clown laugh, and looked above her, watching as the clown leaped to the ground, his make-up smeared and a deranged look in his eyes. She screamed in terror as the clown began to chase her around, laughing maniacally.
“Come back, Princess!” it sneered, starting to foam at the mouth.
She shook her head as she ran faster and faster, not looking back but looking in front of her to make sure she didn’t trip on anything.
She burst out of the forest, the clown not able to follow her anymore.
“Scary, scary looking glass. Scary, scary watch it crash. Crash to the floor, crash to the floor. You are no more, you are no more.”
She fell to the ground, not able to move anymore. It was like she couldn’t breathe, like the air was being stolen out of her body. She watched in terror as the Queen flew down to her, riding on the back of a terrifying, unnamable beast.
----------------------------------------------
The girls’ dollie lay on the floor where she had dropped it outside the air door, looking up with glassy painted eyes.
The air door swung open slowly, and a ghostly head peeked out. She could not go more than a few feet from the door, but it was enough. The ghost girl bent forward and picked up the dollie, smiling as she caressed it in her arms.
“Pretty, pretty meadows. Pretty, pretty flowers. Pretty, pretty world made just for me. Made just for me.” she crooned to the dollie, holding it tightly to her.
“Pretty, pretty flowers. Pretty, pretty meadows. Pretty, pretty world made just for me. Made just for me.” a soft, high-pitched child’s voice crooned.
She cocked her head to the side, listening intently now. Before it had been a folly game, wanting to know what secrets the wind held outside this locked air door, but now her attention and imagination was captured, holding her mind steadfast in its whispery fingers.
“Pretty, pretty lady. Pretty, pretty as can be. Pretty, pretty world made just for me. Made just for me.” she smiled, the rhyme sounded lovely, a pretty tune to behold the ears.
“Pretty, pretty looking glass. Pretty, pretty watch it crash. Crash to the floor. Crash to the floor. It is no more. It is no more.” And just like that, the soft, high pitched child’s voice was ripped away from her as the wind grew angry and sped up around her, pulling and tugging at her favorite dress, yowling and screaming at her.
A shiver of dread, of danger, of destruction, of evil ran through her, and she bolted, leaving behind her dollie as she worked against the wind that forced her back, towards the air door that was slowly swinging open. She was out of the currant suddenly, and she ran. Never looking back.
----------------------------------------------------------------
She was attempting to touch the sky, the ground racing beneath her. Her dollie was swinging with the motion of her body. She was singing a made up melody, bliss encasing her like the heaviness of a thick blanket, blocking troubles from her mind.
Suddenly she stopped, looking around her. A door of heavy oak was resting against air, drawing her like a moth to flame. A warm, fuzzy feeling washed over her, making her forget about past and present.
The dominant emotion was curiosity. For we all know that it was curiosity that did kill the cat.
She reached forward, laying her petite hand on the entrance metal and pushing slightly. It swung open with the absence of sound, gliding away from her touch. She walked through, her dollie hanging at her side, looking around with glassy eyes.
It was beautiful. The colors were radiant, bright, vivid, stunning. Everything was begging to be touched, to be appreciated, to be loved. Flowers were painted with daring colors; the meadow that was surrounding her was colored with the prettiest gold she had ever seen in all of her seven years.
She spotted a path that was a sky blue color dancing through the field on its way to a hidden destination, for it disappeared into a green abyss, not letting her see what in the name of goodness it led to. The trail beckoned her, whispering and spelling out her name in the dirt, telling her to come forth and follow it to wonders and dazzlements. Smiling, she started to skip again, following the trail as her seers roamed the rich land.
Then she came to the forest, the atmosphere around her changing from beauty and amazement to wonder and delicious mystery. The path remained its blue color as it sped through.
“Pretty, pretty flowers. Pretty, pretty meadows. Pretty, pretty world made just for me. Made just for me.” she sang, happiness radiating from her.
“Snitches get stitches and wind up in ditches! Snitches get stitches and wind up in ditches!” a voice laughed, the sound swirling and whirling around her golden head.
She stopped and looked around; the curiosity that we all know did kill the cat flaring up once more.
“Hello?” she called to the still laughing voice. The laugh was high-pitched and infectious.
“Hello?” it mimicked. There was silence for two heartbeats before it laughed again.
“Whose there?”
“Whose there?” then something was right in front of her, hanging the wrong way up from a tree limb. Porcelain color was smeared all over the face; fire color circled the eyes, was painted on the lips, and dotted the nose. A water color star was on the left cheek. It was a mess about.
“Are you a clown?” she asked, lightly poking the mark on his cheek.
“Are you a fairy?” the clown asked, swinging down from the tall wooden structure. He tugged at her pink glitter wings.
“No,” she giggled, swatting away the clowns hand. “I’m a human.”
“Well, I’m not a fairy, so I must be a clown!” the clown cried, hopping up and down and clapping.
A happy sound burst from her lips again. She put a hand up to her mouth to stifle the noise.
“What is your name?” the little girl inquired, cocking her head to the side slightly. She gripped her dollie close to her core.
“My name is Deemo! And what is yours?” the clown cried, whirling around then pointing at her heart.
“My name is Isabella, but my friends and family call me Bella.” She answered, mimicking the clown’s jolly actions.
“Well, Bella! Are you here to see the Queen?” he asked, placing his hands on his torso and adapting a serious look. His eyes squinted at her.
“I guess so!” she replied, nodding slowly.
The mess about tapped his hands together once more, smiling in glee. “Then come with me, Miss Bella! And I will show you to the Queen!”
She nodded, following the clown as he started to march all the way through the forest.
“Pretty, pretty flowers. Pretty, pretty meadows. Pretty, pretty world made just for me. Made just for me.” she sang, marching in the wake of the clown and looking around her. Soft, warm, fuzzy creatures lingered on the edges of the sky path, seeming to beam at her. She smiled back, pleasure shining once more from her very being.
“The Queen has been wanting a daughter for a Princess, you know.” the clown stated as they romped.
“Oh?”
“Yes, and I think you would be the perfect Princess!”
She giggled, the thought settling happily in her mind. Oh, how she would love to be a princess!
The clown led her to the edge of the forest, where he pointed to a grand looking castle. “Follow the path till you get to the castle!”
She nodded, wondering if the clown would follow her. He did not, melting back into the dark forest with a laugh.
She began to walk again, humming her made up tune, thinking of words to add to it. She looked up, and noticed that the sky was pink, with light blue clouds. The flowers in the field around her were now pretty paper flowers, not like the ones in the field on the other side of the forest. She took no notice, however. The world around her was perfect, she reasoned. Why should silly things as the color of the sky or the feel of the flowers taint her thoughts of this world?
When she reached the castle, she stopped walking to gaze at it with wonderment etched into her face. The castle was huge, pretty, amazing. With white stone and purple water racing around it, it was a fairy tale castle come to life.
She walked across the bridge, breathing in the wonder and excitement that seemed to generate from the very stone. Inside, there were an infinite number of people milling about, doing tricks and laughing and having a grand party.
People smiled at her as she pushed through the crowd, intent on finding the Queen, who she knew would be in her grand room. Someone pointed towards a closed door, and she nodded and smiled her thanks, running towards the place with her doll clutched tightly to her.
She pushed the door open, walking in and taking in the sight around her. The Queen was beautiful, sitting on a throne made of yellow and sparkly rocks.
“Pretty, pretty lady. Pretty, pretty as can be. Pretty, pretty world made just for me. Made just for me.” the little girl sang quietly, hovering in the doorway, waiting for the Queen to invite her in.
“Come in dear! Come in!” the Queen proclaimed rather Queen like, waving with her arm and a wide smile.
She did as she was told, sprinting into the room and halting right before the Queen’s throne. She bowed low, almost toppling to the ground.
“What is your name, dear?” the Queen asked as she appraised her.
“Bella, your majesty.” She replied to the floor.
“Bella, please look up at me. You must always look at the Queen.” The Queen said, sounding stern but looking anything but.
She nodded and looked up, taking in the grandeur of the Queen.
“I think you will make a perfect princess!” the Queen proclaimed, causing the little girl to beam with happiness. “Just one thing. Princesses do not need to carry around dollies.”
“But, I love my dollie.” She protested, hugging the dollie close to her, as if protecting it.
“Princesses don’t have dollies.” The Queen repeated patiently. “So give me the dollie.”
She reluctantly handed over the dollie. The Queen snatched it up with a wide, shiver-inducing grin. She threw it onto the ground, and it caught on fire.
The little girl shook her head violently, tears streaming down her face as she watched her dollie burn. Light refracted off something as she did so, causing her attention to shift to a rather large mirror that was suspended on air to her left.
She walked towards it, curious. She looked into the mirror, thinking she would see her reflection. She didn’t, however. She saw herself, she did, but not as she was now. She saw herself pale, almost see through, staring at the air door with a grim expression.
This frightened her. Without knowing what made her do so, she reached forward, placing a light finger on the glass. It fell, crashing to the floor.
“Pretty, pretty looking glass. Pretty, pretty watch it crash. Crash to the floor, crash to the floor. It is no more, it is no more.” She sang quietly, not knowing what made her do so.
The light around her darkened, and an outraged howl pierced through her thoughts. The little girl whipped her head at the sound, as saw the Queen, who was now standing up.
Her face was twisted into a look of pure rage, and she was no longer beautiful. She was horrifyingly ugly, scary in every way possible.
“You little wretch!” she screamed, pointing at the little girl. “Now you will be forever imprisoned in a terrifying world! Wouldn’t it have been nicer to be imprisoned in a beautiful world?!?”
The little girl gasped in horror. She whirled around, sprinting for the door.
“GET HER! SHE MUST NOT LEAVE!”
She ran, ran through the crowd of scary people, people who moments before were laughing and partying with each other. They were now fighting; dark blood streaming from wounds and cruel laughs ringing through the air.
Tears streamed faster down her face as she bolted through the courtyard. The castle was no longer white, but black, the water no longer purple but blood red.
“Ugly, ugly meadows. Ugly, ugly flowers. Scary, scary world made just for you. Made just for you.” Her own voice swirled around her, but it was twisted, sounding jeering and mean.
The little girl ran across the bridge, looking up at the sky and noticing it was the same color as the water, and the clouds where now a sickeningly mossy green. The paper flowers were on fire, and she dodged the flames that threatened to lick at her and burn her to a crisp.
“Ugly, ugly lady. Ugly, ugly as can be. Scary, scary world made just for you. Made just for you.”
She ran and ran, sprinting into the woods that no longer looked mysterious, but looked dangerous. The fuzzy creatures were now evil monsters, staring at her with beady, hungry red eyes. She heard the clown laugh, and looked above her, watching as the clown leaped to the ground, his make-up smeared and a deranged look in his eyes. She screamed in terror as the clown began to chase her around, laughing maniacally.
“Come back, Princess!” it sneered, starting to foam at the mouth.
She shook her head as she ran faster and faster, not looking back but looking in front of her to make sure she didn’t trip on anything.
She burst out of the forest, the clown not able to follow her anymore.
“Scary, scary looking glass. Scary, scary watch it crash. Crash to the floor, crash to the floor. You are no more, you are no more.”
She fell to the ground, not able to move anymore. It was like she couldn’t breathe, like the air was being stolen out of her body. She watched in terror as the Queen flew down to her, riding on the back of a terrifying, unnamable beast.
----------------------------------------------
The girls’ dollie lay on the floor where she had dropped it outside the air door, looking up with glassy painted eyes.
The air door swung open slowly, and a ghostly head peeked out. She could not go more than a few feet from the door, but it was enough. The ghost girl bent forward and picked up the dollie, smiling as she caressed it in her arms.
“Pretty, pretty meadows. Pretty, pretty flowers. Pretty, pretty world made just for me. Made just for me.” she crooned to the dollie, holding it tightly to her.