“I only picked a rose. Just one rose, and now I must be his,” said Papa as he packed his bags.
“Wait, why, what? The beast we hear of in the forest wants you? For a flower? What a douche. Why were you there picking flowers?” Beauty was flustered by her Papa’s story.
“I wanted a flower for your sister Joy. It is her birthday and she has been so depressed since her baby was born,” said Papa.
Poor Joy had tried to be happy but she was tired and sad. Her husband was caring and tried to give her the joy she was named after.
Joy stood in the doorway, her baby in her arms. “It is my fault dear Papa. I will take your place.”
Beauty looked at her sister. Joy should have been named Beauty. She glowed with goodness and love. She was also beautiful beyond measure.
“No, it is my price to pay,” said Papa.
“Nonsense, I will go,” said Beauty.
“No, you will die. There is nobody in the castle of the Beast except the beast,” said Joy.
“Dear sister, do not worry about me. I’m already dead. Seriously, nobody around here likes me anyway. They all think I’m weird,” said Beauty.
“You are not weird,” said Papa.
Beauty laughed and hugged her Papa and her sister. She kissed the sweet baby, packed her bags, and left for the castle in the great forest.
In the middle of the night, Beauty, a pretty young woman with dark blonde hair, and big brown eyes arrived at the castle in the woods. She knocked on the door.
“Oh come on. Let me in. I came for my Papa. What do you want with an old man anyway. He just picked a rose for his daughter with postpartum depression. One rose. One freaking rose. You have thousands of roses in the garden here. What’s your problem?” Yelled Beauty.
The great door was opened by an unseen hand. Beauty entered. The place was beautiful but empty.
She looked around and saw cameras in the corners of the room. Shit. I should have known this would be weird, she thought.
“I know you’re there. I see the cameras. You might as well come out. I will find you.”
Walking down the hallway she noticed that the eyes in the pictures followed her. The furniture shifted as if it was alive.
Then she heard a noice. A low growl. She tried the door in front of her. It was locked. Out of her hair she pulled a bobby pin and picked the lock.
Inside was a beast, a man who looked like the cross between a wolf and a lion, sitting in front of a bank of screens.
“You’re the Beast? What are you? A Werewolf or something?”
The Beast who was wearing a black AC/DC Tee shirt spoke. “I am not a Werewolf.”
“OK. So tell me. What are you?”
“Why are you here. I expected your Papa, or your sister Joy.”
“Joy is married and has two children. How do you know about Joy?”
“Joy is the most beautiful woman in the land. Everyone knows of Joy.”
“Whatever. I’m Beauty, the sister nobody ever sees. You know, Beast, or whatever your name is, this is really messed up. What are you? Some sort of weird geek who can’t get a girl. Do you have everyone because you’re different?”
Beast looked sad. “I am different. People fear me.”
“Welcome to the club Beast,” said Beauty.
“I am a prisoner of my own stupidity and selfishness.”
“Tell me about it.”
The beast held out his hand. “Let’s dance. There is a closet full of beautiful dresses. Go change.”
“I’m not going to be part of your weird fantasy. How’d you get here. You didn’t start out as a wolf man did you?”
“I was selfish. I was mean. I was everything a man should not be?”
“A politician.” said Beauty.
The Beast smiled, showing great white teeth. “No, not a politician. Anyway, to make a long story short, I was enchanted by a woman, a witch, I’d been dating. I’d been vain. I’d cheated on her. I lied to her in more than one way. She turned me into this.”
“I understand how bitter you are. Seriously, I went through something like that but then I accepted the fact that I was different. Just because you were a douch doesn’t mean you can’t change. It sounds to me like you have changed, at least a bit.”
“I have. Could you ever love me?”
“Seriously dude, I’m a Vampire. That’s why I left. I was glad to leave. I love my family and all but I don’t belong there. But I’m not sure I belong here either. The castle is nice and all but you know, this isn’t the Bachelor. I’m not waiting around for a rose from a guy I hardly know.”
“I get it. I’m sorry I was such a jerk. Tell your dad and sister that I’m sorry.”
And suddenly the room filled with magical sparks that didn’t burn and colored smoke, and when it cleared a good looking young man stood before Beauty.
“Wow, Beast. You’re hot. My only advice would be to stay cool. Be good. Keep your karma good.”
Beauty was suddenly hungry and sank her fangs into his arm. When she was done she kissed him, packed her bags, and left.
After a few minutes, she pulled over her car to the side of the road to send a text. “Papa. I’m ok. Don’t worry about the Beast. I’m taking off. Maybe to the beach. I’ll call you soon. xoxo.”
She didn’t know where the road leading out of the other side of the forest would lead, but she knew it couldn’t be as weird as where she had come from.
Thank you for reading this tangled tale. These stories are written on Sunday mornings while I drink my coffee, listen to the birds and my old calico cat purring. I never know what I will write about. Sometimes the stories I write are brilliant, sometimes not so much. If you write I encourage you to write every Sunday. It is sort of like going to church – a place where you can find your own inner whatever and find what is good, or funny, or just yours. I’m also listening to NPR. There is a great interview of Jack White talking about The Raconteurs. It has nothing to do with this story but it made me happy.
So read stories, write stories, listen to music, hug someone you love.
~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman