Thursday, January 27, 2011

The Fairy Princess

Frilly lace, pink and delicate, bulges from thick shoulders--over huge breasts. Lipstick smeared from corner to corner, mascara in dripping globs--she's a carnival of color. Tie the ribbon in her hair. It doesn't match--but what does? What matched fat and self loathing? 


All dressed up and no where to go.


Stiletto heels and stockings that won't stay up--she's just a clown--a walking parody.


Tears streak a black river over bulbous cheeks. Soft blond curls twist and fall. They called her Miss Piggy in school. "You'd be so pretty if you just lost a little weight." Her mother would fuss and cram her into yet another girdle--leaving her with a cinched waist and arms that looked as if she'd explode out of the thing.


She was 18. Too old to hide behind her mother's skirts, too young to give up, too old to pretend. She placed the crown upon her head. A fairy princess in pink lace. In her heart she saw the beauty she could be. She saw herself dance on weightless feet--saw her prince bow and take her hand. "Spin me around the floor. Kiss me sweet." Her heart whispered in hushed tones--thump, thump under her skin. 


Riiiiiiiiip. The sound of tearing fabric pulled her back to reality. She wiped away the tears and the makeup. Blue eye shadow marred the lacy hem of her dress. She grabbed her car keys and purse. She slammed the door of her car--winded from the slight exertion. White knuckled grip on the steering wheel--the long road wound it's way to the closest Burger King. The car flew as though it were determined to escape misery.


The voice in the speaker was distorted. She sobbed as she ordered 4 burgers, a large fry, and a chocolate milkshake. Money was another demon--but she forked it out readily to gorge the garbage in her mouth. Eating was pleasure, was comfort, was hate, was suicide, was death. Nothing mattered anymore. Addiction trumped all.


Shaking hands gripped the triple Whopper with cheese and shoved it in her face. She tasted tears, tasted salt, tasted rage, tasted helplessness, tasted nothing. She pulled out on the road--driving one handed. Took a turn too fast and her milkshake crashed to the passenger floor board. She swerved to lean down and rescue it. Her head full of chaos. Her tongue salivating for chocolate.


She never saw the deer.


She never heard the crash.


She never anticipated it's antlers crashing through the windshield. 

She never dreamt she'd veer off the road--crash into the rocks below.


She never envisioned the pain, the shock of true instant death.


She'd only wanted something salty sweet to kill the truth of her. If only she'd known what the truth of her was....

7 comments:

  1. Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!

    This line says so much: "She tasted tears, tasted salt, tasted rage, tasted helplessness, tasted nothing." Heck, the whole story says so much - a lot!

    Thanks so much for sharing this sad, very well-written tale.

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  2. The bitterness, the response to all the responses to her, is clear from the first paragraph. It's embedded in the tone, and warranted.

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  3. Wow. Such a great pace to this flash - conveys the desperation, the anger, just brilliant!

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  4. You do a great job of revealing to us her feelings of helplessness and self-loathing. The tale was sad but really hit the mark. Great job, Kat!

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  5. Yowza... Not sure how I missed this but I'm glad I finally saw it... Wonderful and evocative...

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  6. That was oh so good. Well done you. xx

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