The witch wasn't lying when she said the little girl would become a beauty. Even at the age of 8, she was already catching the eyes of many. Little boys her age were swooning over her. Edgar, being one of them, the son of the King's right-hand man, was of them.
"Crush" is such an infantile word, one that must have been invented by older folks, the ones with the interest of belittling young love. So when Edgar sneaked to her and told her that he indeed liked her, Kandice was the happiest little girl.
The witch had made it her mission to fill the young princess' mind with tales about the princesses and prince charming. Every night, she would humour herself by taking a role of a good grandmother and reading her a bedtime story.
Little Kandice loved her grandmother the most. She was strict but always there to protect and defend her from the demon King.
With the stories that piqued her curiosity, the young princess began to wonder if she could also have a prince charming.
Now, you can imagine the joy she felt when young Edgar told her that he liked her.
She was finally getting her prince charming.
Of course, it was just an innocent affection, but the curse didn't differentiate what kind of feeling she reciprocated.
"I like you too, Edgar," she said, giggling with excitement. Seeing how she readily accepted and even chuckled, the young boy was thrilled but, at the same time, blushed out of shyness.
The witch was watching from a distance, paying closer attention, waiting for something to happen. She had waited for a long. She waited for the young infant to grow.
When nothing happened, and the witch saw the two of them continuing to giggle like mindless kids, which they were, her hand turned into a fist.
Impossible! She thought, anger surging at the thought of failing in her spell. It has never happened before, then how?
She was about to chant a spell when the little boy froze in his spot and looked like he was struggling to breathe.
"Edgar, are you alright?" Asked the little princess placing her small hand on his forehead worriedly.
But her hand stuck, and the atmosphere changed. They were at the staircase playing. The wind started blowing, and dark clouds gathered around them. The two children panicked, especially the little princess whose hand was still sticking to Edgar's forehead.
Princess Kandice tried to pull her hand away, whereas Edgar could not breathe properly. It was painful, and even the little princess could feel it.
Theodore, the witch, only watched in fascination. How could she think that she failed? Everything that was happening was all her doing. All her all hard work was paying off.
Theodore let out a peal of maniacal laughter as she basked in the feeling of victory. Seeing the little boy suffering, struggling to breathe and ease the pain, gave her a thrill.
More so because her little pet princess was the cause of it.
"See my work, Elizabeth. That is your daughter. The curse has finally been activated. Now watch as she suffers. Watch as she would dance to my tune." She continued with her laugh. Evilness was her aura. A deadly aura.
Princess Kandice could not take it anymore. Especially when things like veins started bulging from Edgar's face, making him look scary. His face reminded her of horror stories her grandmother would force her to hear when she did something wrong.
The little princess struggled to free her hand, which finally happened, but Edgar lost his footing, causing him to fall down the stairs.
Strange it may seem. The fall wasn't great, but he broke his neck. He even breathed his last before landing on the floor.
Looking back, Kandice screamed at the sight that was before her. She was disturbed, horrified and shaken even by what happened.
What happened? Where did the green veins come from when he only fell one staircase behind? The sight was horrible and gruesome for the innocent little princess, and all she could do was scream.
Eyes, the colour of amber, snapped open as the sound of someone screaming was heard. She abruptly sat down on the bed, heaving as a thin layer of sweat could be seen on her forehead.
She was not awoken by someone's scream. She was awoken by her own cry. Not crying does not mean she was used to the mental torture. She felt every ounce of pain. She even began to wonder if she was sane.
Another night, another price she had to pay for seeking rest. Nightmares and demons of the darkness reminded her of who she really was.
No matter how much she ran or hid from it. They were always there, waiting for her to close her eyes so that they could shove the painful truth.
She wanted to cry at the memory but had long out of them. Crying had brought her nothing but pain and more misery.
Lethargically dragging herself from the bed, she strode towards the window in her cream, satin nightdress, outlining her womanly figure.
She pushed open the window wide before leaning on its frame, taking a deep breath. She appreciated the freshness that came with cold air assaulting her skin.
It always did wonder in calming her raging nerves after a trip from the past. Judging from the darkness outside, she could only assume that it was not dawn yet.
But even in the blackness of the night, beauty can be found.
Especially when the endless stars adorned the sky like pale corn on the freshly turned ground. It was a promise to her of life in the darkness, a sense of warmth springing from the cold.
It was a vastness to bring humbleness and boundless space to bring gratitude for the cosines of home - that is - if she considered it that, more of prison it was.
In the years that had gone by, Princess Kandice saw each night sky as a fresh gift.
If one has been given no choice to choose, what you have is what you make your safe haven.
A sigh eluded her lips as she turned to look at the room while leaning against the wall. The room was big. A princess likes her room in the tower.
There was a brown queen size bed in the middle, one couch on the side and bookshelves on its right.
The bathroom was at the far end of the room, and so was her wardrobe. The room looked fancy but lonely at the same time. Nine long years had gone by, but the little princess, who was now a grown woman, had never stepped out of this confinement.
Another sigh escaped her lips as Princess Kandice pushed herself off the wall and walked toward the bookshelves. Running her fingers through the fairy books, she wondered if she should read, but then, her hand stopped at the edge of the shelve.
Reading would have to wait. She thought. After all, she had a lifetime to read all the books in the world.
Her hand reached for the canvas and picked one that was new. Untainted. She then took a container filled with different sizes of paintbrushes from one of the shelve.
Princess Kandice carefully placed the brushes down and unrolled the canvas, setting it in a standing position supported by a stand.
She walked to the shelves and bent down, pulling a can of paint. She also placed it and sat down on the wooden chair facing the window, which was opened, allowing wind to blow in the room.
Knowing that dawn was ready beckoning, she decided to draw the sky. Something to pass on time in the tower that she was locked in. Not that she was complaining or something, she loved being in there.
At least no more innocent lives would be lost because of her, but then, she wondered how it felt to be standard. How it felt to be free.
All were only wishes. That's all the princess could do.
Wish.