While I was unlocking them, I kept asking about Jorinda. I asked if they'd seen a new girl, someone brought there last week, and described her. One of the girls, a tall, blonde-headed chick, she told me she'd seen Jorinda come in a few nights ago.
“But she—she likes this new girl. She's keeping her somewhere else.”
“Where?” I asked, but the girl didn't know. I kept unchaining them, and the blonde-headed girl, she helped pick up the ones who were weak, who couldn't hardly stand on their own.
I was getting down to the last couple of girls, and I heard a scream upstairs. “It's her! It's her!”
I ran up those stairs—I don't think I've ever run so fast in my life. There was that little black figure, the one who stole my Jorinda, in the room upstairs, trying to tie the girls back up again. The figure saw me and screeched. It was inhuman, that shout, almost like an ambulance siren—high pitched and wailing. She left the girls in that room and ran off.
“Wait!” I shouted at her. “I want my girl back! You're gonna give her back to me!” I chased her through the house, up the stairs, and into a little side room I hadn't seen before. It led to the attic, where Jorinda lay on the floor, tied up. The attic was filled up with all these hoodoo things, candles, and symbols painted in blood, dusty old books, the whole bit. I thought I had walked into Satan's bedroom. The figure grabbed Jorinda, threw her over its head as easy as before, and started to run.
***
I believe I mentioned before that I'm a football player, detective. Lineman. So I did what came naturally. I jumped and tackled that figure, and it was one hell of a sack. She flew across the room, and Jorinda fell out of her hands. All that anger I had when that thing froze me came back up, and I starting beating the figure, just beating it and beating it until I felt something snap, and the figure stopped moving.
I unwrapped the figure, and there lay Jorinda's vocal teacher, the one who told me to have the picnic at that mansion. You wanted to know if I meant to kill her, right? This is supposed to be used for some sort of testimony at the trial?
The truth is, I'm not sure what I meant to do. She was all covered up in black. I had no idea who, or what, was under those clothes. I had half a mind it was some witch or a demon. But it wasn't a demon—it was a person, a really messed up person. I was so angry, not just about Jorinda, but about all of those girls. What kinda person would do something like that? What kinda person ...
I untied Jorinda and helped her back down the stairs. She was sort of sobbing the whole time, and just leaned into my shoulder. We came back down the steps into the house, but the mansion transformed. You know how I said it was all clean, with nice furniture and all? Not after I—not after the lady died. It was dusty, molding, the furniture all busted up like it had been there for a hundred years. Same story when we got outside—the grass was about a foot high, weeds everywhere, and I couldn't pick out a single flower in that garden. Bits of the roof of the house were caving in, and some of the windows were broken and shattered.
The ring ... you all still have the ring in evidence, right? You've seen what it looks like. I pulled it off of my pinky, and the thing went from white as the moon to black as night. I never took much stock in magic or miracles, but I think the ring absorbed all the evil in that place. I don't want it back. I'll find something else for my Jorinda.
The girls—well, you've interviewed them. They said that the lady was making them sing for her. Something about the magic in music. I always thought there was something special about a beautiful song, but that teacher lady must've been off her rocker. If you had seen those poor girls ...
I guess that's why she took Jorinda. If there's magic in a voice, it's in Jorinda's. She could make anything happen with a song.
***
That's it, that's the story right there, Detective. I know there were some wild bits, some things that are hard to believe. Talk to those girls again. Some of them might be scared of what they saw, but that blonde-headed girl, she'll tell it like it was. She'll tell you how weird and scary that house was, how evil that little professor lady was.
And then I guess I'll let God take judgment from there.
About the Author:
Nickie Anderson has her Bachelor's degree in Computer Science, which she's put to good use by writing, reading, and tutoring. She loves cooking (because the cook gets dibs on the food!) as well as jogging and biking (because she has to make up for all of the eating!)
She lives in North Carolina with her husband, where they perpetually renovate their home.
If you enjoyed Jorinda, be sure to check out Nickie Anderson's Bright Star, a YA science fiction novel. A list of her works is available on her website at: nickieanderson.blogspot.com
Not So Perfect
by Crystal Clifton
In his heart, he said I'd stay,
until I watched him walk away.
He tried to tell me the love was still there,
but with another one he would share.
Her name is Sleeping Beauty, so fair and sweet,
but she has such awful big feet.
I'm Cinderella, I'm petite and slim,
I'm the one that is supposed to be with him.
Sleeping Beauty had a man,
it's not my fault stuff hit the fan.
I will call my Fairy God Mother, that’s what I'll do,
she will come up with some bibbity bobbity boo.
She will fix everything for me today,
then he really won't know what to say.
Confusion will be a part of his life,
that's okay as long as I am his wife.
I'll do it now while the kids are at the mall.
They are so busy they won't know the difference at all.
So here I go, so quiet and slick,
"Oh Fairy God Mother, I need you quick."
A wind blows in so mighty and strong,
my fairy God mother was a man, his hair was so long.
"My name is Rumpelstiltskin, I have been hired to replace
your Fairy Godmother because she was tired of your face."
Oh how could she do this to me?
I mean, I only called on her ever day or two, or three.
"Oh I have heard awful things about you,
why did they send such a short little dude?"
He grumbled and griped and stepped to the side,
then he spread his smile far and wide.
"I can grant you a wish if you like,
what is it? A car, a book, oh maybe a bike?"
I stood looking stunned, but then it was there,
my idea popped up out of thin air.
"I want you to put someone to sleep,
because my husband she is trying to keep.”
He grins even wider and puts his hand on his chin.
"Well tell me who this person is then."
I whisper in his ear and he looks so surprised,
and looks at me as if he had been punched in the eye.
"Sleeping Beauty is so fair and sweet,
I don't know if I can do this little deed."
I got frightened with the look that he gave me,
he was pondering something this I could see.
"I want something in return, alas I do not work for free.
I want your eldest child, I believe her name is Amy."
I took in a deep breath and gasped so loud,
For Amy, my oldest, was very large and proud.
"Why do you ask for my child in return?
I mean, I have another, for them you must yearn."
He looks deep in my eye and can see my fear.
"Because she will be mine within the year."
I looked confused and sat hard upon the floor,
As my Amy came running in the door.
Their eyes met and I could see a love like no other.
I knew because I am her mother.
I stood back up and said, "It's a deal."
We shook hands and his magic I c
ould feel.
My Prince came a bounding in the door,
and grabbed and lifted me from the floor.
"Where have you been, love of mine?"
he said as if he were out of his mind.
"I found this glass slipper upon the stairs,
and everyone else tried to say it was theirs."
So to end this story to make it a not so happy ending,
Sleeping Beauty is happy and I am still bending.
Picking up clothes and washing dishes to boot.
Still getting dirty with ashes and soot.
Even my evil step sisters married poor,
and they are much happier than ever before.
So just remember there is no such thing,
as True Love and that ever Perfect Ring.
My daughter Amy left with Rumpelstiltskin,
I will never ever see her ever again.
THE END
About the Author:
This is Crystal Clifton’s first short, and a first for an anthology. Crystal lives in Georgia, but is currently residing in Michigan with her son, his wife, and their daughter. She is a mother of four, a grandmother of six, and loves life. She loves to write, promote other authors, and well as design book covers.
If you liked this poem, be sure to watch for Crystal’s children’s book, Thimble Kisses, releasing soon through Anchor Group Publishing.
Rumpelstiltskin’s Ghost
by Jennifer Bull
Chapter One
Once upon a time, there was a magical land where faeries lived. These faeries were not your usual kind of faeries; they didn't have wings, they weren't exceptionally small, and they were not all kind and gentle. They did, however, use magic. There were many different types of magic in the land, but the fae preferred to use magical potions which were easy to make and could be carried around or stored, ready for use. To make a magical potion, the fae had to use silk-lace, a delicate silvery substance that could only be found deep in mountain caves. Over many years, the fae had used up great quantities of the silk-lace, and now very little was left.
The fae king lived in a huge castle with his only son. He sent soldiers out, searching for more silk-lace, and called upon the most learned fae in the land to find a way to replace the magical substance. So far nothing had worked. The soldiers had returned with a small amount of silk-lace and reports that they could find no more. Disappointed, the king ordered the last of the silk-lace be placed in the secure store room and he retired to his bedroom. He stood on his balcony, looking out over his land, worry etching his wrinkles deeper still. The sun was setting over the forest to his right and shining deep red over a nearby village. The king sighed to himself; somehow he would have to find a replacement for the silk-lace, and quickly before the last supplies ran out. But how?
In a small village, not far from the castle, a young faerie lived with her father, a miller. She had not long ago finished school, and now worked with her father in the mill producing grain for the village. The young fae longed for the day when she would meet a handsome, rich husband who would whisk her away from her mundane life and take her into a world of luxury. Although the young fae worked for her father, deep down she was lazy and self-centered.
One day, at the back of the mill, three fathers stood together telling of their children's talents, as father's often do.
"My daughter has just mastered the complex 'tranquility' potion," one father said proudly.
"My son has just received top marks for all of his classes, and will be leaving soon to study as a wizard's apprentice," another boasted.
Not wanting to be outdone, the miller said, "Well, my daughter's magic is far beyond that of anyone I know. She can turn straw into silk-lace."
The other fathers stared at him, shocked. A fae who could turn straw into silk-lace? Surely this couldn't be true.
Within a week, the whole village was talking about the fae girl, the daughter of a miller who could turn straw into silk-lace. Each day people were gathering outside the mill, hoping to get a glimpse of the powerful fae. The miller's daughter basked in her newly found glory, and felt smug that everyone thought she was so powerful and magical. She loved attention, and she received plenty of it that week.
It didn't take long for the news of the fae girl to reach the king, and he didn't waste any time. He sent two of his best soldiers out to the village to invite the fae girl to the castle. If the rumor was true, and the girl could indeed turn straw into silk-lace, it was the answer to his problems. He would marry her to his son and the land would never be short of silk-lace again. But first, he had to be sure. He sent his other soldiers out to harvest as much straw as they could manage. The king had a plan.
The next day, the miller's daughter was awoken by a loud knocking on the door. Her father was already working in the mill, so she slipped on her dressing gown and went to answer the door. Two of the king's soldiers stood in front of her, and after confirming she was the daughter of the village miller, offered their invitation.
"The fae king would like to invite you to join him at the castle this evening, and he would like you to stay for a few days so that you may meet the young prince. Will you accept his invitation?" the soldier asked the young fae.
The miller had joined his daughter at the front door in time to hear the invitation. She turned around, her eyes shining, and questioningly looked at her father.
"Of course you can go," he said. "I will call some people in to help me with the mill whilst you are gone, don't worry about a thing." He mentally rubbed his hands with delight, picturing the looks on the other father's faces when he told them that his daughter had been invited to spend a few days at the castle with the king and prince!
The girl threw her arms around her father in a bear hug, and ran upstairs to freshen up and pack a small bag. She took the smartest clothes she owned out of her wardrobe and quickly folded them into the bag. Putting on her grey trousers and blue spotted blouse, which brought out the color of her eyes, she then ran back down the stairs, clutching her bag.
"Good-bye, Father," she said, kissing him on the cheek and hurrying out of the door after the soldiers, who were now waiting patiently at the end of the garden path.
"See you soon, my love," he called after his daughter proudly.
The young fae followed the two soldiers in silence as they made their way back to the castle, which was a good two hour walk away. She trailed behind them quietly, not wanting to speak without being spoken to first. She couldn't believe her luck, she was actually on her way to the castle to meet the king, and the fae prince!
As they neared the huge castle doors, she began to feel nervous. She ran her hands through her hair and smoothed down her clothes. She had never been this close to the castle before, not to mention near the fae king and prince. Gripping her bag tightly, she followed the two soldiers through the castle door and down a well-lit corridor. She stared in awe as they walked past doors that led into rooms bigger than her home. The soldiers led her through a solid oak door at the end of the corridor and down a long winding stairwell. When they finally reached the bottom of the stairs, the miller's daughter stopped abruptly as she realized the fae king was there. He was waiting, standing only a few feet in front of her.
"Hello, my dear, it is very nice to meet you," he said to her kindly, although his eyes did not extend the smile on his face. He held out his hand and she leaned forward to shake it. "I understand you have a very special gift; that you can turn straw into silk-lace?"
The miller's daughter had a bad case of nerves. She couldn't quite find any words to speak, but she managed to incline her head in acknowledgement.
The king smiled to himself. "My dear, you have undoubtedly heard that I am looking to find a wife for my only son. A worthy woman who will someday be queen to this fine land."
She had heard this, but to actually be standing in front of the king listening to him say it was quite another thing.
The king continued without pause, "I ne
ed to be sure that any woman I bring to my son is indeed worthy of this title. For this reason, I need you to prove your worth."
The excitement the young fae had felt quickly disappeared, and before she realized what was happening, one of the soldiers opened a door just behind the king and pushed her forward into a dark room. Dropping her bag on the floor, she turned around, shocked and confused. The king stood in the doorway to the room, the kind expression replaced with one of determination, and he continued as if nothing had happened. "I will return tomorrow morning, and I expect to see a room full of silk-lace. If I do not, I fear your father will disappear and you will not see nor hear of him again."
With that, the king abruptly turned around and walked off. One of the soldiers lingered at the door just long enough to flick a switch on the wall, and moments later the room lit up. Another soldier brought in a small plate of food and left it by the door. He slammed the door behind him, and a click of the lock echoed around the room.
Still shocked by what had just happened, and on the verge of tears, the miller's daughter turned around as her eyes adjusted to the bright light. To her horror, stacked against the wall in front of her were piles of straw, and to the right of these was a spinning wheel. Surely the king didn't expect her to actually turn straw into silk-lace?
She began to panic and turned to the door, frantically pulling on the handle to open it, but to no avail. Banging her fists on the door, she shouted for the soldiers to let her out. Unfortunately, it was no use. The door was locked and she was stuck in the room until morning. Why, oh why, had her father boasted about her? Conveniently she forgot that she too had boasted to her friends, and anyone who would listen, about her ability to turn straw into silk-lace. However, she had never expected she would be asked to prove herself. She could certainly spin the straw, but it would not turn into silk-lace.
Unhappily Ever After: Fairy Tales With a Twist Page 7
