Beautiful Beast
Beast dreams about complicated buildings that punch through the clouds. She flies between the spires with precise control, hovering to inspect gargoyles with whom she feels a close kinship. Really, she envies them. They are made of stone, and so they cannot feel.
Something tugs at her, pulling her out of the sky. She opens her eyes, and her field of vision is entirely occupied by two pale faces, as beautiful as they are menacing.
Rowena, the eldest sister, smiles like she has a secret. “Good morning, Beast.”
Marlena, the middle sister, titters, “We have a surprise for you, little sister. A very special surprise.”
Fear burns the last residue of sleep from Beast’s brain, and she thrashes under the covers. She tries to squirm away from her sisters, but she is not quick enough. Rowena easily drags her out of bed and towards the balcony; Marlena throws open the doors. Beast wishes she had fangs and claws and the strength of a bear.
Outside, the lawn is a dazzling carpet of sunlight and dew. Servants are sweeping cobblestone paths, herding geese, and trimming hedges. Marlena pulls up Beast’s thin, sleeping shift, exposing her shrinking flesh to the chilly morning air. The sun is an indifferent witness, but the servants are not.
“Behold, our sister, the hideous Beast! She is a princess in name only. Look at her!”
As every living creature except the geese turns to stare, Beast prays to die. The servants don’t laugh as she thought they would, but their pained, uncertain faces may be worse.
“Why aren’t they laughing?” whispers Marlena.
Rowena shrugs, bored already. “Because they’re stupid, fucking peasants. I’m chilly. Let’s go back inside.”
Beast, left alone on the balcony, doesn’t bother to pound on the locked doors. She curls herself into a shivery ball and wraps her arms around her knees. Someone will find her, eventually.
To be continued.
