In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Once Upon a Time.”
Once upon a time there was a fairy warrior called Annabelle. She was a tiny,fiercely independent fairy with pale pink wings and a waterfall of brown luscious locks. There was also the arch angel Asriel, whom advised the treasury on trade and industry.
Annabelle and Asriel had met on a random day in a quiet meadow when both had gone there to enjoy a summer afternoon and ponder on life’s silent, yet pressing questions. It seemed that fate had conspired against them, because as they bumped into each other between the sunflowers, they started talking like they were old friends.
It soon became apparent that this chance encounter had the potential to blossom into something truly spectacular. They were like Anam Cara’s – Stars created by the sparks of God’s heart as he watched the love between beings. They were intertwined into each other’s hearts and souls, thoughts and the very essence of being.
There was one problem with Annabelle and Asriel’s happy ending – Kalen. The age old tradition of families who married off their children to each other. Kalen and Annabelle had been friends from an early age and it was only natural that their friendship turned into an innocent romance. Kalen and Annabelle’s parents thought this romance to be the next wedding to add to the family empire and the plans were quickly put in place. Annabelle and Kalen were to be married as soon as their training for their guilds were completed.
Annabelle had been content with this arrangement as she and Kalen got along well and could laugh togeteher, though she often wondered whether the love she had read of in old fairy literature was just a myth. Every now and again when her fears and questions seemed to become too real she would admonish herself and look over at Kallen, thinking about his caring nature and how she was just being silly.
Until she bumped into Asriel in the meadow and everything changed. A few weeks down the line and Annabelle was headlocked into a personal hell. She had never know that one’s very own heartbeat could beat so in tune in exact time with another. Yet, she had been promised to Kalen, a good man. A man who cared for her and with whom she could laugh.
Asriel had become distant lately. He had shown and promised Annabelle everything he could should she jump… Annabelle had wanted to jump, but she was on the edge of the cliff, still looking over her shoulder every now and again. Asriel felt like he was starting to resent Annabelle for making him love her by looking at him like he was her sun, by loving her and she had shown and said it back and yet she had still been with Kalen as if all were right with them.
Annabelle realised Asriel was starting to push her away, and it pained her to the extent where she felt paralyzed. She wanted so much to bask in the rays of his affection but she was also scared of her family’s wrath…and what if she threw it all away for something not meant to last.
Annabelle had a training assignment in the Kingdom of Brazil, in a place called Rio De Janeiro. As her training wore on, she would stand and watch the sunset drop away in the ocean at twilight and she soon realized it was only of Asriel that she thought when she wanted to share news from Rio, and alas the wonderful truth set itself free in a letter composed by Annabelle.
The ink on the parchment was a copy of Annabelle’s heart sent to Asriel to tell him that she loved him, and to wait for her at the portal of entry as she returned from her training assignment so that they could start afresh – A real chance to let their passion come alive.
On the day of her return, Annabelle jumped through the portal excitedly only to find a short letter on the other side. Asriel hadn’t waited as Annabelle had asked but had instead written that the time it had taken Annabelle to make a decision, had been the grave where all his affection and love had been buried in, and now all that remained was to mourn at its tombstone every now and again for an opportunity never lived.
Annabelle’s soul then turned off it’s lights and on it’s walls, blazing with might were these written words:
“These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder
Which, as they kiss, consume”
You’re sitting at a café when a stranger approaches you. The person asks what your name is; and for some reason you reply. The stranger nods “I’ve been looking for you”.
What happens next?
I search the stranger’s face for any conspicuous mark or line that sparks a memory flint into flame….. I find none. He sits down in the opposite chair and sends a lazy smile across the table, waiting expectedly. I search his face again and I’m accosted by his eyes. Brown hazel nut pools flecked with tiny emeralds and in the margins of his eyes I read the side note he’s scribbling: Come away with me.
I don’t know him, but boy with those eyes I’d like to know him. I give myself a stern talk: “You’re not a 16 year old teen who’s never been kissed. You’re a successful lawyer. Pull it together”. So I paint the “I’m-in-control-and-cool-about-it” expression on my face with a slow confident smile like a woman who’s seen this scene play out too many times. “If you’ve been looking for the person who can put you in your place, then yes I am who you’ve been looking for” I say with a smug smile.
A wild laugh trickles from his left dimple, “Yes indeed you are who I’ve been looking for. I don’t believe in wasting opportunities and we I saw you here today, I could just tell by the way you ordered your coffee that I have been bored by mundane girls for far too long.”
I want to smirk and arch an eyebrow, but the blatant honesty of the statement awakes long forgotten butterflies. I am not too old for this? I want to say something clever but he eyes linger on my mouth and I wonder have I woken-up in wonderland?
“You wear expensive shoes. Your hair looks amazing. You’re not a lady. You’re a full red hot blooded woman who doesn’t jump but leaps. You are structure and you are order. But I could also tell by the way you looked off distantly into the street daydreaming that in your head you’re not some boss. You’re barefoot and singing, giving in to a passion too great for your control. You’re burn with desire. You take chances and you’re longing for that one thing or one person to run wild with you. Two completely different people in one soul and heart – Fascinating”
Is this a book, has he read my diary? Has he climbed into my very soul? I left that girl behind long ago…. There is no time or space for freedom in success. Yet his words has slam-dunked into my heart, and I feel like I could take his hand and run away or maybe more like just running away 100 miles in the opposite direction…… but suddenly I’m scared someone will never look at me like that again, while I’m sitting at a café drinking coffee, wondering if I’ll ever experience the mad hatter’s party again? I’m afraid suddenly, so afraid that I call the waiter and ask for the bill. So afraid that my eyes linger on his lips and my hand writes poetry on his wrist…….
He sees her smile, the naked longing for freedom trapped in her hands playing along his wrist and he knows “I got her”. Everyone is trapped nowadays, and wants to believe that movies come true. So he plays whoever they look for, and in return he gets his named splashed upon the front page of the newspaper tomorrow, he wonders what it will read this time?
“Scarf killer sentences lawyer to death in San Francisco”