The Fairytale of Prince Charming

These days it just feels like I am in a fairytale. But people seem to forget the bad part about the fairytale. What we remember of Cinderella is that her prince looked for her with only one shoe and he found her. Romantic, right? Then when we think of Snow White, we think of the nice dwarfs that gave her a home until her prince saved her. Unbelievably sweet. And all we remember of The Sleeping Beauty is that she slept until she had her happy ending. Why do people forget that Cinderella was treated like a slave for years and years? Why do they ignore the fact that Snow White had to run away from home and get lost in the jungles? And why, just why do they forget that the sleeping beauty was actually sleeping for who knows how many years? Fairytales aren’t fun. The only good thing about them is the ending. Yet we always hear people of wisdom say that there are no endings. That’s scary, isn’t it?
These days it just feels like I am in a fairytale, without an ending. I’m just sitting here, waiting to be rescued. But will he show up? Will I find my savior and happy ending?

Nancy Konkar, the author of "If it is meant to be", everytime amazes us with her incredible writings, so we at JustPost are delighted to share with you her latest work. Enjoy!

Prince Charming Nancy Konkar

Prince Charming

My wife died today, and all I could do about it is just sit here and read the first words that I read by her a few years ago. For a while, I really thought that she did find her happy ending. Maybe it is true; there are no endings, just miserable beginnings.

She was my fairytale, my everything. If I were to be Romeo, she would be my Juliet. If I had been Jack, she would have definitely been my Rose. Then when she was Bella, I was always her Edward. But then again, Juliet killed herself. Rose left jack to die. And Bella? She almost died in Edward’s arms a couple of times. No maybe she isn’t any of those girls. No, she was a fairytale without all the evil and bad parts. She was my dream and my reality. She was truly my everything. And now she is gone. Just like that. I... I don’t even know how to deal with it. I don’t know what I could possibly do now that I have lost my other half. I lost her for good and that is my new reality.

We met online like most couples do nowadays. However, I always liked to think that we were somehow special. I thought we lived a fairytale and I thought that we found our happy ending. But it was far from over. We had barely started. I met her through her blog and her words just pulled me towards her every day even more than the day before. We talked for years but I never saw her, never knew anything about her. Then, one day, she just showed up at my doorstep. I was surprised, but in love.

Soon after, we got married, and the phrase “They lived happily ever after” was bound to be said. Still, I knew nothing about my wife’s past. All that I knew was that I loved her and that she was my only future. Even though everyday she told me that I was her prince charming, I always felt that it was her that saved me.

One lovely evening, I decided to ask her to tell me something about her. I knew it was risky. It was a ticking bomb as a matter of fact. But my curiosity was killing me. She said that there was nothing to be said. When I insisted, she just told me how meeting me has changed her life. She told me how, by talking to her, I allowed her to see the word. That was all.

A few days later, I came home from work only to find my Rachel in the kitchen with a woman that I had never seen before. They were talking, but as I got closer, I realized that they were fighting. The woman seemed to be older. She was skinny and tall. She wasn’t standing straight, but something about her was familiar. It was her hair, just like Rachel’s golden hair. Not only were they fighting, but I also noticed something in Rachel’s hand; scissors. One second they were talking and the next my wife was cutting her golden long hair as the woman was yelling,

“You’ve betrayed me! After all I’ve done for your sake…” and then she just pulled her by the hand and ran out the door. I tried to run after them. My heart was pounding, my hands were sweating, and my feet were shaking.

“Rachel!” I yelled after her and the woman looked at me. She looked back at my wife and hissed,

“You’ve betrayed me for this?”

The next minute, they were gone. All that I could see from their trace were the golden threads left behind by Rachel’s recently cut hair. That was when I knew exactly who the woman was; my mother in law. I asked her about her mother only twice in our years together. The first time I asked her if she looked like her, and her answer was that she was nothing like her. Then she said, as if she had forgotten, or tried to forget, “The only thing that we have in common is our golden hair.”

The second time I asked her to tell me what her mother was like. Her only answer was that she was just “crazily over-protective.” When she realized I was still waiting for her to go on, she said, “It just gets suffocating.” She choked on that last word and buried her head in my neck and we just sat there.

I was wandering the streets looking for a sign of her. I knew nothing about her and that did not help me find her, but I found her in my heart. I allowed my heart to be my eyes and guide me. For a moment there, I almost gave up. Then, I saw it. Her golden hair was shining through a high window in an alley. I just knew it was her. No woman ever born had that kind of hair, that beautiful color. It was unmistakable.

I ran towards the building and ran up the stairs. The closer I got, the louder their sounds became.

“How could you abandon me like this, you ungrateful cunning girl?”

“You can’t keep doing this to me, mother.”

“Do what? Protect you?”

“I don’t need you!”

“Oh, is that skinny boy protecting you well enough?”

“Just leave me alone!”

I heard the woman’s footsteps as she walked out of the room and into another apartment. I seized the chance and ran towards the room where my love was. Before I was stupid enough to walk in, I saw a man standing at the door. He walked towards Rachel as she walked away from him. He was laughing hysterically.

Rachel got to the window and she seemed to not have noticed. She tripped and tried to hold onto the drapes but she failed. I ran towards her as fast as I can. She saw me. Her eyes met mine. I wish I had been fast enough to grab her hand and hold her close to me. Her hand was an inch away from mine when she fell out the window. I was too slow. I couldn’t save her.

I kneeled down next to the window and let my tears flow down my face like a river. I might have been yelling too but I couldn’t even hear myself. She was gone. That was it. It was over.

As I came to my senses, I started to hear the voices of people around me. The man called her mother from the other apartment. But on her way there, I could hear that she has met some people.

“YOU!” a man’s voice said.

“After all these years, we just bump into you in a hallway?” a squeaky woman’s voice yelled.

Then I just heard someone being pushed against a wall. It was silent for a while except for the whimpers of my mother in law.

“Call the police, honey.” The man said calmly even though his voice was shaking.

“She’s MINE!” yelled Rachel’s mother, and that was when I heard it all. The darkest of all dark secrets were being yelled over my wife’s dead body. A part of me was glad that she didn’t hear it. A part of me was happy that she never knew.

They said that I was in shock. The cops told me that sometimes when people experience a trauma as such, reality is shaken. Nothing is real and nothing is certain. You see, by the time the cops arrived, everyone but me has vanished. However, I know exactly what I heard. I know my reality and I know the reality that my wife never got to have.

Many years ago, 25 years to be exact, Rachel’s mother helped those couple. They were unable to bear children, and that woman was kind enough to lend them her womb. But later on, when the baby was born with golden hair, the woman could not let go of her. She ran away with her. She kept her locked up in her room most of the time. She claimed that she had her hair and therefore she must be hers. They ran from one city to another, from one state to the other, until Rachel finally broke down and came to me. What a cruel life to be lived.

My wife died today. She wasn’t just another woman that came and went. She was a princess. Most of all, she was my princess. I may have saved her from her mother, but if I were her prince charming, would an inch stop me from saving her from breaking her neck? I wish I could have protected her from life. I couldn’t. That’s my reality.

Now I’m just left sitting here and wondering, will this fairytale have a happy ending? Or will it be just another miserable beginning?

This is only a fairytale and we at JustPost believe in the happy endings.

Do not share the story unless have the permission of its author.

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