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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2113532-Confessions-of-a-Damsel-in-Distress
by Rmkv
Rated: E · Short Story · Satire · #2113532
Revised older story. It's the musings of a princess locked up in a tower, with POV change.
The birds were chirping. The squirrels were scuttering around, swishing their bushy little tails. The bunnies hopped around, looking happy and busy. And the bees buzzed around the riot of flowers.

How much Viola hated them all.

Now, now. There is no need to judge Viola for loathing this unfettered display of nature's beauty. If you were in her place, I'm sure you'd be no better off.

You see, Viola was a princess. Yes, I see that this is no grounds for any sympathy. But sympathy you must give, as she was locked up inside an impressively high tower, in the middle of the woods.

When Viola had been a baby, a drunken witch had cursed her to die beyond the age of 5, if she were ever to step out into the world. Her distraught parents begged for the curse to be lifted but in vain. However, upon being promised the Royal family's secret hangover cure recipe, the wicked witch relented. Viola would be safe if she were to ever meet her one true love and marry him.

Thus, the King and the Queen prepared Viola for a life of waiting. They did everything they could to make their little girl happy till the age of five. When it was finally time, the Queen explained to the child that she had to be locked away. Away from all the dangers of the world they lived in.

"But, Mother", questioned the innocent girl, her grey eyes swimming in confusion. "Why didn't Brother get cursed? Or any of the boys I know? Do witches not like girls? Like me and Cousin Mae?"

The Queen sighed.

"Hush now, child. One does not question these things. Mother and Father have done everything we can to keep you happy and safe in that tower. Aunty Jesebele has conjured up a magic pantry. You can eat anything you wish to, darling! Isn't that grand? No more begging the cook for some chocolate cake in secret. And you will be getting letters from us every month, thanks to the Mystic Birds. You will not be able to write back for your own safety. But we will always be here for you. Father, Brother, Aunty and I. You'll remember everything Mother has taught you, won't you?"

Hence, with a forged smile and a lead heart, the Queen watched the Knights whisk her baby away to be locked up in a magically sealed location .



That was thirteen years ago.

Viola was now a fair, young maiden..no, I won't lie to you... Viola was now a grumpy and bored maiden of eighteen. Sure, she lived a life charmed in it's own way. She had a library with an ocean of books, a pantry to procure the finest food, and an art room filled with every shade of color possible. But the only shade of color Viola could see was the dull grey of the stone walls surrounding her. How could she possibly fill a canvas when all she could see of the world was confined to the tiny window? Her parents had clearly thought of everything but nothing.

Viola let out a deep sigh as she leaned back from the window.

Some days were good, full of promises to extract the most from her limited quarters. Some days were filled with sugared pastries and roasted delicacies; for what was a better way to fill the mind than by filling the stomach?

Today was filled with a different kind of craving.

A craving for Freedom.

"F for freedom. F for flight. F for .....F*$# off, you dumb little bird", she sang, jarring him with her shrill, nasal notes and making him fly away.

How she wished she could walk out of this forsaken tower and dive into the moat surrounding it.

"Well, I'm sure the dragon will make a kebab out of me", she told herself. "I don't think this one is particularly bright. She would just smoke the skin out of anything, protector or not. I suppose she's just as bored as I am. Imagine, signing up for a job that sounds so fancy on paper- protecting a princess from unknown perils in a top secret location. A job opportunity like no other. Then, discovering that it entails nothing but sitting around all day blowing smoke rings up your nose."

If I may, this is the narrator here. I would like to interrupt to say that the Princess was, sometimes, likely to talk and sing to herself. Once again, I must remind you of her terrible circumstance, and ask you to not call her loco.

Now, where were we?

Viola made her way into the library to read the month's letters. There was Mother's. She opened it first because they were the most boring anyways. Always telling her about how to behave like a respected woman. She usually just skipped through most of it, down to the 'I hope you are taking care of yourself. Freedom might be knocking any day now.' at the very bottom.

"Freeeeeedom, you elusive chickeeeeeen", she burst into song, causing something of an alarmed stampede amongst the animals outside.

Mother had once written saying a princess had been rescued by a prince who had been so enchanted by the sound of her singing, that he hadn't rested until he had reached to the source. Viola had decided she should try it, having nothing to lose. Sound reasoning, one might argue, except several animals were getting traumatised in her surrounding.

She opened Brother's with a bit more anticipation. Brother's letters usually detailed his heady love affair with the stable boy. Ho, ho. If Mother knew! Viola was flattered that Brother trusted her with the massive secret. Of course, it had nothing to do with the fact that she couldn't have told anyone even if she wanted to. He just trusted her! Also entertaining were stories of his fiance, who she suspected was also in love with the same stable boy. She waited every month to see if that little bubble had popped.

Father's letter's were mildly better than Mother's, with a sprinkling of his infamous puns. But they always ended with him urging her to exercise and 'stay fit'. A pretty princess always stands out in the Locked Up Princess Market, as Viola liked to called it. It seemed to have become a raging phenomena these days - locking up princesses in towers. And something of a lucrative market had sprung up around it, with youth training to get the girl and old knights offering to train the youth.

She supposed she could understand Father's pleas. Which self respecting prince would want to go back home with a plump little toad after going through all that trouble, eh?

It's not like Viola didn't try to stay fit. On one of those days she wasn't eating away her feelings , she had tried to build herself an exercise regime using all the books she had on the subject . That was when she discovered the Curers' books . Books that detailed information of what ailments were upon her and what she could do to ease them. It was a Holy Miracle that she'd stumbled upon these books, because without them, she'd never have known she was suffering from arthritis, GERD and possibly an aneurysm waiting to explode in her brains. Oh, and a massive dandruff problem.

In view of such complications, exercise could wait, she had decided. She needed to rest herself so she could be alive for her day of Freedom.

There was nothing interesting in any of her letters today. Aunty J had written about how the Princess of Valakour had been broken out of her boulder palace by a charming prince. The wedding was apparently very cheap, because her parents had used up that money to redecorate the castle, having given up all hopes of their daughter ever seeing the world. It was strange, Viola thought, that her Mother hadn't mentioned this. She loved sending her updates of all marooned princesses in the vicinity. If she was trying to give Viola some hope, or herself, she never could tell.

One more day, besieged with boredom, passed. Viola settled herself down with some supper. Today, she was dressed up for the occasion. She had thrown something on top of her petticoat.

She used to get dressed up everyday, waiting for The One. In the last year or two, Viola had come to realize that if it, indeed, was her one true love, he would love her even if she wore a skunk for a hat and coconuts for a bra. If anything, being inappropriately dressed would serve as a test for her to gauge his true-loveness.

"Years with all these books have made you so smart!", she chuckled.

Ermm...ok. Moving on.

Viola slurped on her soup as she thought about Freedom. She tried hard to understand how these other princesses did it. From what Mother was telling her, they were all always rosy-cheeked, as pretty as peaches and as graceful as swans when they were rescued.

"Graceful swannnsss", she sang, spitting out some of her soup on the tablecloth.

There were some nights she hoped she wouldn't get rescued at all. Because the thought of riding into the sunset with a random stranger didn't really appeal to her. Sure, such a foolproof plan of matrimony sounded marvelous on paper, but would it work in real life? What if he turns out to be a narcissistic ass? Or worse, he thinks he owns her just because he gave her Freedom?

Supposing, on a more positive note, he did turn out to be her soulmate? Did she really want to start a committed relationship with the perfect man, after having zero practice of even being in the same room as another human being? She had this strong feeling that in the course of a few months of living as husband and wife, he would come and lock himself up in this same tower to stay away from her.

There was also this mild issue of wanting to live her life before settling down to the inevitable. She wanted to experience the world and make her own mistakes. If this meant that the aneurysm bursts before she could settle down with her love, so be it.

"Princess Viola. Decided to seize her life, tragically ended by a seizure." she declared in a very serious tone.

Who was she kidding? Viola was almost sure that she was destined to stay in this tower for eternity. She was going to die an old maiden, having never met Lady Freedom. All that she will leave behind in this world will be her mind-numbingly boring journals and a generation of deaf animals.

It was getting quite late in the night now.

The wolves were howling again. God damn it, will she ever get used to these infernal animals? She had tried to howl back at them once, just to see if that would shut them up. It had resulted in many other animals making noises she had never even heard before. Nobody in the forest had slept that night.

"Oh, screw it!", Voila stood up. "I'm going to the pantry for a midnight snack. These stomach cramps are killing me, anyways. Stupid, stupid, stupid...."

We will move past the next few minutes of Viola wishing the wolves were on their period. As was her Mother. And Brother. And Father. And the stupid princess who got rescued the month before.

It was during that second chicken leg that Viola thought she had heard something out of the ordinary. It sounded like metal cutting through metal. Viola noted to herself that she should hit the Curers' books the next day and went back to searching for some mayonnaise to accompany the leg.

That's when she heard it again. This time, she was sure it was the sound of swords.

Oh. My. God.

She could hear footsteps. The sound of someone running. The sound of things breaking. The sound of something zapping.

Wait a minute. Why couldn't she hear the sound of the dragon at all? Was she actually sleeping through Viola's rescue? Worst. Dragon. Ever.

Oh my God! Was she being rescued?

Viola watched as the wall in front of her started being broken down. She started eating her chicken as fast as possible, staring at the wall, mesmerized. Thank goodness she had put on a dress.

This was intense. She was going to meet her True Love. She was going to taste Freedom. She didn't know what she was feeling. Where did that mayonnaise go?

A cluster of dust and smoke filled the room as she heard one final explosion.

Once the smoke settled, Viola could make out a faint figure. Viola froze, her heart froze, her bladder froze.



"MOTHER?!", yelled Viola, waving the half eaten chicken around hysterically.

"Enough is enough, Viola. I am sick and tired of waiting for the men around us to do something. It's time we take life back into our own hands. You are getting your Freedom", replied Mother, looking more calmer and much older than the last time Viola had seen her.

Viola gaped at her Mother, an unflattering piece of meat stuck to her teeth.

"So, we're going back home?", she finally managed to ask, deciding to reserve the whole barrage of questions for later.

"No, we are going to rescue Cousin Mae", replied the Queen, swinging her sword over her shoulder. "And a real lady never stares with her mouth open, Viola. And manages to chew up on all her meat..."



This is where we, my friends, we leave this tale. A tear jerking reunion of a mother and a daughter. Of two women, each trapped in their own worlds, starting their own journeys to Freedom. Together, but separately. Bravely, but broken. You get the gist.

Don't you love fairytales with a fairly happy ending?

© Copyright 2017 Rmkv (rmkv at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2113532-Confessions-of-a-Damsel-in-Distress