DEFYING MY MATES

A Tragic Fairytale

I don’t really like to cook, but it keeps stupid thoughts out of my head. It’s always fun to do it with mum; to listen to her talking animatedly about her childhood stories or how she and my dad met and they fell in love or anything she talks about. I had heard almost all her stories, but I still loved to listen to her soothing voice.

Back in time, whenever I had my outbursts, I would have serious blackouts and would vent out my anger at anything, including myself. Those were the dark days of my life. It was like a movie. I knew what I was doing, but couldn’t control my actions.

Her voice was like an anchor which pulled me out of my confines each and every time. If it weren’t for her, I can’t even imagine where I would be. Maybe an asylum or something similar to that.

“What? Is there something on my face?” She asked, confused , wiping the non-existing dirt off her face a few times. I didn’t even realize I was staring at her until she pointed it out.

“Yeah…on your nose. Let me clean it for you.” I lied through my teeth and smeared the flour on her face. After my little stunt, I ran out of the kitchen laughing.

“You…you….” She knew right away what I did and chased me as long as her body could take it. Slowing down a bit, she huffed while she stamped on the floor with a scowl on her face.

I was busy eyeing her next move when I bumped into my dad as he walked in the kitchen while I was running away from her.

“What is going on here?” Dad asked as he held my shoulders tight.

“Dad, save me.” I pleaded and hid behind him as I peeked a little to see the smeared face of my mum. She looked funny with white on her nose and reddened cheeks.

“Look, what did your lovely daughter do?” Mum said, annoyed, as she pointed to her nose even when one could clearly see it. Her hands rested on her hips as if to let us know she was serious.

“Marie?” Dad said in a no-bullshit tone.

“Dad?” I prolonged the word with an innocent look on my face.

“Is this what I have taught you?” He said in a stern voice and went to my mum who stood behind the countertop of the kitchen. Mum gave me a smug look when she saw that dad took her side and I knew I was cornered with no way out of it.

Standing beside her, he took the flour container and dropped its contents on her head, to my shock.

Dad was amused and proud of his work, “You should have done it in the right way.”

For a few minutes, mum didn’t even react, as she was so baffled. By the way, she looked hilarious while dad and I laughed like lunatics. Her nose flared and cheeks reddened by the minute when she opened the fridge and grabbed a few eggs.

And, the war began. We threw flour, eggs, tomatoes, and even a few potatoes at each other as I was on the opposite side. I could only get my hands on the tap water. So, I did the best I could do at that moment.

We played till we were out of breath and famished from all the exercise we had done. Looking at each other, we laughed heartily. The kitchen was a huge mess along with the dining room. The floor was sticky and slippery while the cupboards were repainted with flour and that too was not wholly done.

Dad looked like a huge omelet, while my mum’s hair looked like spaghetti. I didn’t know what I looked like, but I did smell funny.

After we played our hearts out, we dumped the waste and wiped our floor clean. Then, we showered and had our breakfast for lunch.

Filling our bellies with food, we decided to watch a movie for the rest of noon. My dad and mum slumped on the couch while I played ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’ on TV and placed my head on my mum’s lap as she combed through my hair. We watched different movies, like horror, romance, and comedy, back to back till the evening.

At night, we were too lazy to cook, so we ordered pizza and coke. After the tiring day we had, we retired to our rooms.

I was lying on my bed with a book that I picked up randomly. I thought I would read for an hour or so before I went to sleep. But, I couldn’t even read a paragraph when a memory flashed, a memory from my nightmare.

Thanks to mum and dad, I forgot the horrible dream I had, but now that I was alone I couldn’t stop thinking about my blood-stained face from that dream. I tried to sleep it off, but I kept tossing and turning on my bed. Nothing worked at all.

Giving up the idea of having a good night's sleep, I carried a pillow and duvet to my parent’s room. I knocked on the door as I didn’t want my virgin eyes to see something that I shouldn’t have. I heard approaching footsteps as the door opened.

“Marie?” Dad asked, squinting his eyes as he held his study glasses in one hand and a book in the other.

“Dad.” I sighed tiredly as I hugged him tight. Nudging him out of my way, I walked to my mum and laid comfortably right beside her.

“Are you okay? Is everything alright?” Dad was worried as he walked towards me and checked my forehead for any signs of illness, which wasn’t the case.

“I can’t sleep. Can I sleep with you guys for today?” I asked while I played with my fingers unconsciously.

“You didn’t even need to ask for it, you know.” Dad said as he shut the door and laid beside me staring at my face weirdly.

“Nightmares?” He asked and when I didn’t reply he knew he was right.

“Would you like to share it with us?” He added it again while he kept the book in the side drawer.

“You know it. I won’t. Can we talk about something else?” I tried to dodge the topic. I didn’t even want to think about it or why I was in my parent’s room at midnight.

“Like what?” He said confusedly while mum combed my hair with her fingers.

“Anything. You have read so many books, maybe you can tell me one you have read recently.” I suggested. I didn't even know what I wanted to talk about.

“Okay. Let me think….” He made a thoughtful face while he tapped his finger on her chin.

“What about the trapped prince? One grandpa told me once and I liked it so much that I forced you to listen to it with me.” Suddenly, I recalled my favorite fairy-tale that I used to listen to every night before I went to sleep. It’s been years since I heard that story.

“Oh, that. You still remember it.” He was shocked, as if he didn’t believe that I recalled something when I was about 9 or 10. I don't know, but we don't really talk about him after his disappearance. When my mother was informed, she was devastated and went into depression. We were all shaken by the news that he hadn't been home for god knows how many days. We only knew that he went into the forest and poofed!

A campaign was started to search for him and we continued looking for him for days in the humongous forest, but all in vain. We didn't find anything; no clues, no body, nothing at all. We lost all hope and thought something bad happened to him in the forest. Some claimed the forest witch took him, while some said he was probably mauled by wild animals. Eventually, we buried all the memories we had along with him when he didn't return home.

“Don’t you think you’re too old for a fairy-tale?” He asked amusedly, but I could see the hesitation in his eyes for some reason.

“Hey, I’m just 24. I’m not old, but you definitely are.” I was offended as I pointed at him with my index finger.

“Fine, milady.” Dad gave in and got in a comfortable position.

“Okay so, where should I start from?” Making a thoughtful face, he scratched his head.

“From the beginning,” I said excitedly, and gave him my full attention.

“Aren’t you smart?” He chuckled as he bopped my nose.

“Thanks, dad.” I rolled my eyes at his question.

I was all ears when he started the story, “Okay!! There was a far away kingdom with three clans in it. All of the clans were equally powerful. They got along well on the outside, but on the inside they held knives at each other’s throats. A kingdom needed a king and queen, but they didn’t want the other clans to hold any power over them. So, they chose 3 old and wise people from each clan, and made a council. The council had the right to overrule any decision or proposal if it was not beneficial for the kingdom or was harmful for other clans.”

“All of the three clans choose their own king and queen. The one who was the most powerful among the clan became the king. The clans might have been wary of each other, but they lived in peace. The council came to a crucial decision that a person would not marry or have a child with a different clan, and whoever did it so far was killed in public to, make an example, as they thought it might disturb the balance of power.” He continued with distaste as he too didn’t like the idea of bloodshed.

“That’s preposterous, and they didn’t even rebel against it. Pathetic”, I butted in as I huffed and was annoyed.

Dad smiled and pursued the story further, “People followed the rules without any question as they were afraid for their lives until the king himself fell in love with a princess of another clan. The princess was banished from her clan for a serious allegation and took refuge in another clan where she met the king.

Later, the council got wind of their relationship and they tried to negotiate with the king, but the king didn’t agree to it. The council tried to separate the couple in barbaric ways, but the king protected his queen with his life as he loved her dearly and, mostly, because the queen was pregnant with the heir. When the other clans got to know about it, they felt threatened as the child was claimed to be the most powerful person in the whole kingdom. So, the council and the other clans joined forces for the same cause; to kill the heir and maintain the balance of power.

But, the king protected his son and queen for 20 years when war broke out. The clan lost their king and queen, and his son was taken hostage. The council couldn’t kill the heir for some reason, so they trapped him in a cave while the people of the clan without their leader were taken slaves or killed.”

“Now, it is said that his people are waiting for their prince to liberate them from the torture and miseries of their life, they are going through while the prince is waiting for his savior to rescue him from his wretched prison.” My eyes were drooping by the end of the story while mum continually caressed my hair, but I wanted to hear my favorite part, that the prince was waiting for his savior.

When I was a kid, I asked my father whether I could be his savior or not, to which my father replied, “You have to be brave and smart. You can’t cry like you do now. Can you do it?”

I would nod eagerly to it and cry the next moment.

I remember that beautiful memory as clearly as a day. With that thought in my mind. I drifted into a peaceful slumber.