The Story of Awkward

by R.K. Ryals

  ~Peregrine Storke~

  The tower was easily accessible. There were no soldiers guarding the entrance, no booby traps, or fire-breathing dragons. There was a door in the stone, yet there was nothing to keep us from entering. No need to conjure up a magic staircase or a long braid of hair. Stereotype was right; they had no intention of stopping us.

  Foster opened the pouch on his belt and gazed down into it. His face was hard when he closed it, and I felt the first tendrils of fear grip me.

  “Let’s go,” he ordered.

  Foster was the first to enter, his feet carrying him up a dark, winding staircase. We followed more slowly, our feet taking each step as if it were our last. Maybe it was. It was certainly our moment of truth. I inhaled through my nose, my heart beating wildly. I was afraid. I was afraid of the darkness. I was afraid of failing the people I’d helped create.

  The stairs ended at a simple arched door.

  “I’ll do it,” Elspeth insisted. She brushed past us, her face full of determination. Foster allowed her to take the lead.

  The princess inhaled, her chest expanding. She held it, her small, delicate hands pushing at the door. It creaked open, the wood swinging into a pitch black room; The Dungeon of Despair.

  Elspeth sighed. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  I gaped. “It’s dark!” I cried.

  Foster glanced down at me, his brows furrowed. “No,” he leaned closer. “it’s not dark, Perri.”

  Elspeth stepped into the room, Nimble, Weasel, and Herman behind her. All of their eyes were wide and full of wonder.

  I stared. There was nothing except a black hole.

  I took a step backward. “I can’t.”

  Foster looked from my face to the door and back again. “What do you see, Perri?”

  My breath came in spurts, my heart rate increasing. “It’s dark,” I repeated.

  Foster glanced at the door again. “We’ve got to go in.”

  I shook my head.

  Foster tugged me toward him, his arms wrapping around me. “I’ll carry you then, but we’re out of time, Perri. There’s no more time.”

  I kicked and screamed as he dragged me into the room. We were standing in the middle of nothing. There was no light. None. There was no ceiling, no floor, and no walls. There was only blackness.

  I curled into a ball inside of Foster’s arms. His grip was comforting, but I couldn’t see him.

  From the darkness, someone whispered, “Trick or treat.”

  There was no sound. I was too afraid to move, speak, or even breathe. I was in the middle of my living room, my father whispering about the dangers of the night, about the monsters that waited for me outside in the dark. There was the sound of pounding feet and children screaming.

  Foster’s arms tightened. “I don’t know what you’re seeing, Perri, but whatever it is, you aren’t there. You are inside of a tower and surrounded by the whitest walls you have ever seen. There are windows everywhere. Each of them look out over fields of trees blooming with gemstones.”

  “She won’t see it,” a voice said. It was a male voice, low and beautiful.

  “Dash!” Elspeth cried.

  The prince ignored her. “Perfection rules this tower.”

  Foster’s arms stiffened. “Why doesn’t she see what everyone else does?”

  The prince laughed. “Because she fears perfection. Only those who fear being perfect see it as something terrifying.”

  Darkness … there was so much darkness, the eerie whispers of trick or treat loud in the gloom. Did I fear being perfect?

  “No,” I mumbled.

  Foster knelt, his arms taking me down with him. We were sitting in the middle of nothing.

  “There’s no such thing as perfection,” Foster said, his voice hard.

  “Are you so sure?” the prince asked. “If there was no such thing as perfection, then why is she afraid of it?”

  I could feel Foster’s gaze on my face even if I couldn’t see it. I could hear everything they said, could feel their presence, but I was terrified to move. It was that illogical, childish fear that the darkness would find me and destroy me if I made any sound.

  “She isn’t afraid of perfection,” Foster said. “She’s afraid of what wanting it will turn her into.” He shook me. “You aren’t your father, Perri. You aren’t your mother. Don’t let the fear defeat you. Be you,” he said. “Be the creative, snorting, strong person I know you are.”

  I concentrated on his voice. He was right. I wasn’t afraid of perfection. I was afraid of what wanting it made people.

  There were other hands on me now. Familiar hands. “None of us want to be perfect,” Nimble whispered into my ear.

  There was a sudden light in the room, a small light that was beginning to grow larger and larger.

  Foster leaned closer. “You don’t have to be perfect to be better. You taught me that.”

  The tower was taking shape in front of my eyes, the windows and walls Foster had described coming into view. In the middle of it all stood a prince, a handsome prince with brown hair and blue eyes. His only imperfection was supposed to be a small scar on his face, but it was gone. Elspeth was standing across from him, her gaze on his face.

  I looked at Foster. “I see you now.”

  His thumb swept my cheek.

  The prince watched us all, his gaze full of indifference. “Why did you come here?” he asked.

  Elspeth took a step toward him. “We came to take you back home.”

  The prince smirked. “Home? I am home.”

  A tinkling laugh filled the room, the sound beautiful and terrible all at the same time. “You dare come here and attempt to change things?”

  A woman even more beautiful than Stereotype materialized, her lithe figure cloaked in gold. She was statuesque, her face smooth and her eyes large. She had long lashes, the kind people were always trying to imitate with fake eyelashes. There wasn’t a single wrinkle, scar, or blemish anywhere on her. Even her breasts were perfect, perky and full.

  She gazed at us. “You came here for nothing. Look at your prince. He’s perfect now. He doesn’t need your world.” She smiled. “But our world could use you. I could change you. I could protect you. Don’t you want that? There’d never be any reason for anyone to doubt you, to question you, or to think you are awkward. You would belong. You would be perfect.”

  I stared at her. “We would be unhappy,” I said.

  Her gaze found mine. “Would you? I could give you everything. You could be beautiful, smart, popular, and admired. You could be extraordinary. The sky’s the limit. There’d be no shame.”

  The sky outside of the tower windows began to change. It was growing darker, more concrete.

  Foster lifted the ball from the pouch in his belt. It was black.

  Perfection laughed. “You’re too late. Either you choose to be perfect, or you belong nowhere.”

  Elspeth stared at Prince Dash, something dawning in her eyes. She’d been struggling with herself since the beginning of our journey, but I didn’t see a struggle in her eyes anymore. I saw acceptance, and it scared me.

  “No,” Elspeth said.

  The word surprised everyone, especially Dash. He glanced at her, his eyes narrowing. Her gaze met his head on, her golden spectacles suddenly more beautiful than they’d ever been. “We rewrite our story,” she said. She looked at me, her gaze falling to my sketchbook.

  I inhaled, my fingers plucking it from my belt, the cover snapping open before I even had time to consider what all of this meant. Elspeth was right. Awkward was different now. It was changing, but it wasn’t gone.

  My pencil sped across the page.

  “You see,” Elspeth continued, “we’ve had this story wrong the whole time.” On the page, my fingers drew Elspeth as she looked now, tall and confident. The things that made her awkward were still the same, her love of birds and her spectacles, but they also made her more beautiful. They made her
unique. They made her stand out. They made her strong.

  Elspeth stepped toward the prince. “You broke my heart,” she said, her words stumbling, but no less brave. “I thank you for that.”

  He gaped at her, and I drew him that way, taking a grim sort of satisfaction out of his shock.

  Elspeth glanced at Foster. “In Awkward, a princess doesn’t always need a prince. She doesn’t always need saving.” She glanced back at Dash. “But when she does, it shouldn’t be by someone who is so easily seduced by a pretty face and beautiful words. Because in the end, those are always deceptive.” She stood tall, her gaze going to Perfection. “Do what you want to us and to this world. Drown us. Burn Awkward alive. Destroy us. We’ll rise again. We can be replaced. You can’t destroy what is indestructible. Everyone belongs somewhere, even if it’s not in your perfect world.” She gestured at Perfection and winked. “Embrace your awkward, Perfection. Embrace it. Because everyone, no matter how hidden it may seem, has something awkward about them. Our world will always outlast yours.”

  My fingers finally paused on the page, the sketch finished.

  Foster’s mouth was near my ear when he whispered, “It’s beautiful.”

  And it was.

  There, on the paper in front of me, was an awkward world full of beauty. There were sketches full of turmoil, sketches full of our journey to Perfection’s kingdom. It was supposed to be a trip to rescue a prince, but it changed. It became a journey that taught us to embrace ourselves, to love what was unique about each of us. It taught me that I wasn’t just awkward. I could make mistakes. I could love, and I could be me without feeling wrong for being that way.

  It taught me that I was beautiful. It taught me that princes, like princesses, came in all shapes and sizes. That no matter how much I loved the stories about white knights, sometimes the prince wasn’t the handsome guy with the deep dimple and charming personality. Sometimes, the prince was the guy you least expected.

  I glanced between Foster and Dash. How wrong I’d been. I’d drawn an awkward world with an awkward princess, but I’d still made my prince perfect.

  Perfection wasn’t laughing anymore. Her face was changing, her mouth open in horror.

  “Oh, my!” Nimble exclaimed.

  “Holy dingbats!” Herman swore.

  There were wrinkles on Perfection’s face now. Her eyelashes fell away to reveal shorter lashes beneath. Her hair grew duller, her boobs smaller.

  Dash stared in horror, his gaze taking it all in before a new understanding began to dawn on his face. He turned to Elspeth. “Princess …”

  She stiffened, her gaze regal, beautiful, but kind. “I’m not angry at the choices you made,” she said. “I was wrong, too. I cared about you once, but I didn’t really know you. This wouldn’t have happened if I had. Let’s start as friends,” she said. “Maybe someday that can change. Not now. Right now, I’m kind of happy being me.”

  She turned to me, a smile on her face.

  Her expression changed when she saw me, her smile slipping. “Perri!” she gasped.

  I felt light, my body no longer enfolded in Foster’s embrace. When I looked behind me, he was gone.

  “Foster!” I cried. Panic seized me. Foster was gone! He was gone!

  A sob escaped me, and I started to stand, my gaze falling to my feet. They weren’t there anymore. My gaze found the princess, my eyes wide, shock causing me to freeze. Awkward wasn’t disappearing but we were.

  “Perri!” Elspeth called out again.

  My gaze went to my hands. They were translucent, my skin vanishing.

  “Perri!” Nimble echoed. Weasel barreled toward me, his sweet, pockmarked face sad.

  It was last thing in Awkward I saw.

  Chapter 27

  “That awkward moment when the world as you once knew it changes forever.”