There are many white lies, incorrect stories, and adjusted versions of things that older people tell children. Maybe, if someone had’ve told me the truth that “fairy” means not real or true, then I wouldn’t have wasted so much time believing. Maybe I wouldn’t have turned my life into a mess in the pursuit of ‘dreams’ and ‘goals’. Maybe I would’ve ended up content, if not ‘happy’, with my lot in life, because someone had been honest with me… maybe… could have, should have, would have, didn’t.
I discovered the truth too late, after too many years of dreaming and hoping and practicing that thing called faith… Turns out after 26 I got the real deal on those fairy stories. They weren’t really ‘fairy’, there was a lot of truth in them, it’s just that the stories ended on a ‘high’, falsely represented, ‘happy’ note. The ever depressing ‘happy ending’ to those of us who have yet to even begin to find reality in that idea. Here’s what happened post where the ‘caring-let’s-protect-them’ parentals left off:
The ‘Prince’ a.k.a. John, saw her in that glass case sleeping and his body reacted and he knew he wanted babies from her to carry on his awesome genes. He knew that she could cook and clean and take care of at least 7 little ones at a time, so it made logical sense to him to follow the plan of a prosperous future and land up with Miss White. The thing is, being as loaded as he was, he didn’t think it necessary to chat to Miss White about his plans. Miss White, having just been whisked out of a very long coma wasn’t quite ‘with it’ when all the marriage stuff happened faster than her recuperation did. As it so happened Miss White was dead against having children as she believed that the world was a horrid place with war, famine, rape, pornography, money-orientated-capitalists, self-absorbed-selfie-taking narcissists, deadly virus’s from Ebola to HIV and more chaos and depression than her little heart could handle, so she had her mind and heart set on creating homes for the homeless, caring for the orphans and uplifting the lives of those with so little when she had been blessed with so much. She had no desire to procreate or have herself replicated in another human being; in fact she thought that it would be most unkind to any child. John, needless to type, was fuming! How dare this woman not realise that his genes should be carried forth into the future to benefit mankind? How dare she think that taking care of so many others was more important than looking after him and his offspring? Did she not realise that he was the reason she wasn’t still living in a hovel? John wanted a divorce; he couldn’t get it. Not because of Miss White, but because he had no degree, no ambition and no desire, other than to own the mirror his grand-mother-in-law owned and have replica’s of himself running around. This being the case, his only source of income was from his parents. His parents were traditionalists and wanted to keep up their very unsoiled appearances in their kingdom so that no-one could dare question them or their perfect lives. Thus John approached Miss White and told her that she had no choice but to have children for the sake of the kingdom. Now Miss White knew that her grandmother wasn’t going to be letting her into her old kingdom and she knew that the seven dwarves were thrilled to be bachelors in all their glory once again, so she had nowhere to go, but still, she wanted to be true to herself and her convictions. So she told John to give her a few months in the kingdom next to far far away to make her decision. He agreed. She skipped off to the neighbours, had a hysterectomy, and then returned back to be the dutiful wife, have all the sex required and, despite all the magical spells Merlin tried to get her to fall pregnant, it just never happened and the grandmother with the mirror was blamed for eternity for the fall of John’s kingdom.
When Miss White was getting herself fixed up she was funded by her cousin Miss Beauty. She therefore managed to get the lowdown whilst she was recovering. Miss Beauty had become a counselor in the hospital that Miss White was recovering at. Turned out Miss Beauty’s ‘prince’ a.k.a. Jack, had not been marriage material after all. You see Jack had had a run in with a big giant who kept Fee Fi Foe Fumming all over the place, so Jack got rid of him; this had come after he’d had this nagging mother who was always talking talking talking. So when Jack heard of this Sleeping Beauty he decided to expand his criminal activities and impersonate a prince. He figured Miss Beauty would be the perfect catch for him because 1) she was a beauty and 2) she slept all the time, so she’d be sure to be quiet and wouldn’t annoy him like a certain mother and giant had. His psychologist had told him that his mother was the cause of his paranoia and schizophrenia, so he figured her opposite: a quiet beauty; would be perfect. He went along, followed the instructions in a ‘save the damsel’ booklet, took the woozy Miss Beauty to a Las Vegas Chapel and put a ring on her finger, trusting that the golden silence was going to be better than his golden eggs. Awesome honeymoon and then the drugs she’d been sleeping on ran out and all the talking she’d had to keep back whilst sleeping exploded out continuously. In trying to recover from his murdering the giant Jack was not in the right space for her eruption and, in the fifth night of her babbling about the dragon he’d killed, he reached for one of his weapons to show her he meant business and could kill again, at which point she screeched and ran out to the neighbours who called in a “domestic violence dispute”. The police arrived and arrested Jack, consequently discovering he was wanted for murdering a giant and a dragon, impersonating royalty and the case of his mother’s drowning in a bath of bean soup was still unresolved. Jack got life in jail and Miss Beauty got the golden egg laying chicken, so it transpired that she could help pay for her cousin’s hysterectomy. She decided to become a counselor because she could talk all day and even at night for certain emergency cases.
One of Miss Beauty’s such cases was that of Cinderella, a depressing story to begin with, but it finished up being alright in the end. Cinderella had to get the divorce, the only princess to have suffered such an inexcusable black mark of embarrassment on her name. With no family to go to she had sought shelter in the hospital and Miss Beauty took her on board to clean her office as she had such incredible talents in the cleaning department, it was as if she’d been trained from when she was a toddler. Cinderella’s story was a sad one because the divorce was for reasons beyond her control. She had been so naive and innocent when she went to that ball that when the ‘Prince’ a.k.a. Elton-Louie had sent his servants to come and find the foot for the shoe, it was not because he wanted her, but because he wanted the other shoe. He was dealing in fashion design on the side and his completely gay nature was in love with beautiful forms and his ultimate turn on: gorgeous shoes darhling. Unfortunately, with all the hype that went into finding the shoe, his parents, and the kingdom, were under the impression that it was all for love of the marriage-kind and not love of the fashion-kind. He was still a closet case and was suddenly thrust into the spotlight that caught him in more shock and fear than a flying fairy caught in a sealed pit of hungry frogs. He went through with it all and poor Cinderella was left lonely and isolated and rejected after being turned down on their wedding night, she resorted to cleaning and fell into depression. He began his “blue-period” of social withdrawal and creating all his designs in blue. This went on for a year until the fairy god-mother rocked up again after her holiday in Bermuda with King Arthur’s Merlin who had been called back to deal with a Miss White who couldn’t fall pregnant for reasons unknown, but the conspiracy was believed to be: by the magic of her dodgy grandmother. The fairy-godmother hooked up her lawyer friend, who drew up the papers and got the divorce settled. They sent Cinderella to Miss Beauty and Elton-Louis to Cape Town.
Although Cinderella managed to slowly recover and eventually created her own cleaning company and married a doctor, Rapunzel wasn’t so lucky. It turned out her fate was similar, in a round-about-small-possibly-connected kind of way, to that of Sampson who had his hair cut by Delilah. Sampson lost all his strength when he lost his hair and so too did Rapunzel. Sadly, the problem with Rapunzel was she actually did fall head over tower for the ‘prince’ who climbed her hair and gave her a headache that never ever ended, no matter how much paracetamol she consumed. The ‘prince’ a.k.a. Timothy, or ‘Tim’ to his mates, was one of those ‘playa’s’, the guys who are interested in the hunt, the conquest, the game. He wasn’t the slightest bit interested in commitment or long-term anything. All Rapunzel knew though was LONG term. She didn’t know how to play pretend or cut her emotions or ‘be in the game’. Tim was around for a few weeks, then he got a call that there was some wicked witch in the west of a place called Oz who needed some rescuing, if he managed it, he could get in there to get her inheritance too, because, according to the grapevine of the land of far far away, the witch was pretty much going to be losing a battle with a Dorothy from Kansas very soon. Having squandered most of his parents’ money on his global-damsel-in-distress-escapades, he was keen for the dough and for cashing in on the fame once again. Problem was, Rapunzel was a serious hottie and he actually enjoyed every moment he spent with her, in fact, he knew he loved her, but he also knew he was a playa and he couldn’t settle down, but he didn’t want anyone else to have her either, so he told her he was going away for a short while and would be back after he’d raised some funds for their future, but until then, he gave her a poetry website where he would write a poem for her every day.
He did indeed write incredible poetry; he’d had years of victims, um, subjects, and practice. Rapunzel became so entranced and the spell Tim cast with his words entrenched his being in her soul. He knew he would never return to her, he knew he wanted the money and the chase he would get from all the other women he was yet to conquer, but he felt incredible things for Rapunzel, so incredible that they petrified him and he had no idea how to live them in person, so he lived them through his poetry. This left Rapunzel, whose love language was words, with nothing but unrequited, un-human, internet love.
Tim’s approach literally killed Rapunzel’s soul. She moved into a place of hell as she was separated from the only man she had ever loved or felt so strongly for. She loved him, hated him, wanted to help him, wanted him to suffer, wanted to kill him, hold him, keep him, banish him… every human emotion rocked through her in relation to him and she hated it. She hated that he had made her so helpless when she had been so strong and independent. He had taken her hair and her being with him and left her nothing. She went to psychologists, psychiatrists, spiritual-healers, hypnotherapists and medical practitioners but none of them could help her. They cut her down as a human, filled her with more self-doubt, they told her her parents had caused her misery, they gave her drugs, told her she had post-traumatic stress, depression and anxiety. They told her she was crazy because the poetry was not about her. No-one would write such brilliant stuff and not want to be with that person in person, it was, quite simply, “A ludicrous concept!” They told her she had lost the plot because it wasn’t possible to be hearing Tim’s voice when he had clearly left her, especially as the internet had posted loads of paparazzi pictures of him with the witch. Still, Rapunzel felt Tim with her, when she was washing dishes, drying her hair, showering, sleeping, driving, walking, whatever it was, he was there and she couldn’t get rid of his presence. She fought with herself, hated herself some more, grew more insecure and broke down into tears and little pieces of frustration and self-hate far too often. The specialists had her burn things, break things, draw things, shoot things, do body-shake-therapy, see a body talk consultant, take classes and do so many things that she felt like she was running in circles; and all the while he was next to her with his smile, his laugh, his bizarre comments, his allergies, his stories, and she couldn’t erase him. She went mad, so mad they sent her to the asylum next to the hospital where Cinderella was cleaning and Miss Beauty was talking and Miss White visited every now and then when she was helping out the children in the hospital and bringing joy to those who have so little…