{"id":33,"date":"2011-10-14T23:19:52","date_gmt":"2011-10-14T23:19:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.silly-sara.com\/blog\/2011\/10\/14\/the-currently-untitled-fairy-tale-story-3\/"},"modified":"2011-10-14T23:19:52","modified_gmt":"2011-10-14T23:19:52","slug":"the-currently-untitled-fairy-tale-story-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.silly-sara.com\/blog\/2011\/10\/14\/the-currently-untitled-fairy-tale-story-3\/","title":{"rendered":"The Currently Untitled Fairy Tale Story 3"},"content":{"rendered":"

Hazel, One.<\/strong><\/p>\n

In retrospect, Hazel had to admit: she was lucky. She had so much.<\/p>\n

She had grown up surrounded by love, with a mother and two wonderful aunts in a house that smelled always of cookies and sweets. She had been given an extraordinary education in the forest that surrounded her home on all sides, learning from her family and from the woodland creatures in equal measure, and eating up every morsel of knowledge they had to offer. <\/p>\n

She had never wanted for food, or friends, or fun.<\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

The two children had been trudging through the forest all night and were exhausted. They had begun their journey in high spirits, but in the waning light of the setting sun, with empty stomachs aching, and weary feet smarting painfully, both had to admit that running away from home did not, any longer, seem like such a clever idea.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Jane, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m tired.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d The little boy tugged at his sister\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s skirt and cast glassy eyes too big for his head at her, hoping for some sympathy.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I know, Albert.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She tried not to look at his puppy-dog eyes, knowing they would be her downfall.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Jane, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m hungry.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Somehow, Jane was sure, his eyes had gotten even bigger.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Albie, I know.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d If he started crying, she was done.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Jane, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m scared.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d And now that his lip was quivering, it was all she could do to keep her heart from breaking.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh Albie, we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll find somewhere soon, I promise!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She knew she shouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t promise, because she had no way of knowing if she could keep it, but if he kept looking at her like that\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6<\/p>\n

Blessedly, Albert didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t say anything, and Jane had a moment to gather her thoughts. When her little brother spoke again, though, she finally did break down into tears herself.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m still glad we left, Jane.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh Albie, you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re so terribly brave,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jane wept, great wet tears rolling down her pink cheeks in waves as she threw her arms around her brother and squeezed him tight. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I<\/em> wish we were at home, even with horrible old Gertrude. At least she was better than our last stepmother. She\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s only a little ugly, and she only beats us every other Thursday.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d In hindsight, it didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t seem so bad at all.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153And she made lovely lemon tarts for her desserts, and even blueberry treacle sometimes, and every so often she would make the most wonderful gingerbread, why I can smell it even now\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u009d And she could.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153So can I!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Albert cried excitedly, charging off towards the scent before Jane could say another word.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Albie, no!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jane cried as she dashed after her brother, crashing headlong through a bush before stopping dead in her tracks, right next to little Albie. For before them was the most wondrous sight either of them had ever laid their little eyes on.<\/p>\n

It was certainly the most splendid house that had ever been built, all made from gingerbread, with marzipan shingles and pulled sugar windows, and a little door made of pink shortbread. Gumdrops lined the sugar windows, and jellybeans dotted the gingerbread walls with bursts of colour. Best of all, tiny candied birds alighted on the powder pink branches of cotton candy trees, too tiny and darling to be real. And yet, there they were.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Is it real, Jane?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Albie asked, his eyes as wide as the peppermint doorknob.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh, it couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t possibly be,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jane breathed, her voice thick with delight.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Do you think it belongs to anyone?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Albert asked, glancing this way and that before taking a hesitant step towards the delicious little cottage.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Like who, a witch?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jane asked incredulously. Everyone knew there was no such thing\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Probably,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d a voice posited behind them, and it was a testament to the house that it was a full ten seconds before either child was able to tear their eyes from it and turn around.<\/p>\n

Behind them was a girl only a little older than Jane, but certainly much taller, and much willowier. Jane had to admit that with her long raven black hair and her large violet eyes, she was beautiful. Or, well, she would have been if not for the gargantuan hairy mole on the end of her nose. But she was still beautiful enough that it nettled Jane, who was only a little pretty.<\/p>\n

So she snorted. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Witches aren\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t real,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she told the older girl, crossing her arms over her chest in what she hoped was a superior gesture.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh no?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the girl asked, smiling softly at the pair of them in a way that almost made her lovely enough to forget the mole, and which consequently nettled Jane further. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153This is the Black Forest, you know.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Do witches like the Black Forest?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Albert asked, hiding behind his sister and clutching at her skirt.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Haven\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t you heard of Hansel and Gretel?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the girl asked him curiously.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Of course we have,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jane nudged her brother. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And everyone knows that after Hansel and Gretel came home, the word was spread to all the kingdoms, and all the witches in the forest were killed during the Great Gingerbread Purge, and now they\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re all dead.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jane smiled smugly at the girl, feeling much better knowing that she was at least much better educated than her.<\/p>\n

The girl smiled prettily and shrugged, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153well, then I suppose you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d best come inside and have something to eat. You both look positively famished.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d With that, she beckoned them towards the house as she started towards it herself.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s your house?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jane asked uncertainly, glancing back at the wonderful little house and hoping her stomach wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t growling too audibly.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mmhmm,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the girl agreed, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I live here with my mother and my aunts. They found this lovely little house in the woods before I was born. I suppose it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a relic from the Gingerbread Purge, but it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s stood up quite nicely.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d The girl smiled so warmly that Jane almost forgot how much she disliked her, and when she held open the door for them, she almost went straight in.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh, please Jane! I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m so hungry!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Albert said when she hesitated.<\/p>\n

His eyes had once again doubled in size and his lip was already quivering, so all Jane could do was swallow a little sob and guide him through the door.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Are you sure your family won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t mind if we stay for a little food?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jane asked, belatedly remembering her manners as the girl closed the door behind them.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh no,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Hazel smiled, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153they won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t mind at all.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

Hazel was certainly lucky to have all she did. But just as lucky, her mother and her aunts would have said, were the things that Hazel didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have. <\/p>\n

Growing up, she didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have any mirrors, so she had never really noticed the huge, hairy mole that dominated the end of her nose. She had never quite gotten the hang of telling time, so she didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t wonder why her mother and her aunts never seemed to get any older. And she had been kept far away from the nearby village, so she didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know that plump village children weren\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t part of every growing girl\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s diet.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Hazel, One. In retrospect, Hazel had to admit: she was lucky. She had so much. She had grown up surrounded by love, with a mother and two wonderful aunts in a house that smelled always of cookies and sweets. She had been given an extraordinary education in the forest that surrounded her home on all […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6,5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-33","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fantasy","category-writing"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.silly-sara.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/33","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.silly-sara.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.silly-sara.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.silly-sara.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.silly-sara.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=33"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.silly-sara.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/33\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.silly-sara.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=33"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.silly-sara.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=33"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.silly-sara.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=33"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}