Broken Fairy Tales--The Way I Remember It.

The more I think about it, the more I realize there were a lot of us up in that tower. It just felt so lonely. We all truly believed we were alone.

We each had our wishes, our dreams, our cross-stitch ideals and needlepoint fabrications. We hid our faces from ourselves and, unknowingly, from each other, the veils disguising what only one would ever see. The way I remember it, I was alone. One small bed in the center of the room, shrouded with sheer drapes. A vanity, with a small stool. A dresser and an end table with a vase of daisies. But there is only one such tower, so there must have been many more of us there, all believing, all alone.

I dreamt of the day I would escape the tower. That day would come and I would climb down, mount the Prince's horse, and ride into the sunset.

A few Princes came and they would start to help me out the window, but then run off and leave me dangling to pull myself back in.

Then HE came. With a ladder. He propped it up against my tower and climbed in, brushing the nonexistant dust off his broad shoulders. He was everything I had dreamed of. He was well-dressed, well-mannered, bold, honest, with his firm set of beliefs. He charmed me and I could not help but believe that he would rescue me and take me away to be his princess.

It was all going to plan- he even had a white horse waiting at the bottom. So I took his proffered hand and climbed down from my tall tower into his waiting arms. I wanted to give him a token, so I removed my veil and offered it to him. He took it graciously and helped me onto the glorious steed.

But as we rode off together, he elbowed me off callously and I fell into a spiny thicket. The thorns dug into my skin and tore my gown as I fought to free myself. I called after him. I cried his name. I wept bitterly.

My exposed and brazen face felt so naked now. I had given this to him, and he'd so harshly tossed me aside. If only I had my veil!

I picked up my skirt and let the torn pieces slide through my hands, seeing the jagged shards of my dreams slip through as well. My tear-stained eyes looked briefly in the direction he had gone and saw my veil caught on a branch. He'd let it go. But his horse had trampled it and the cloth was shredded and filthy. Still, it was my dignity.

I picked up the discarded veil and tried my best to cover my facing, knowing that I'd never be clean or beautiful enough for any other Prince that would come along. I yearned to be back in my ivory tower, but that was impossible now.

But as I gazed up into the window from which I had once looked down, I saw now the faces of so many others, peering across the plains, hoping for their Prince to come. What good could I do them? What comfort could I bring? I had lost all that would endear me to any other Prince. And now I couldn't even be rescued.