Braided

"Rapunzel. So that is the name that once belonged to the troubled being that is me? The name that once lead me to greatness, but kept me locked up in a twisted tower for exactly sixteen years? Can any of it be true? Are fairytales a reality?" Emily was found unconscious in a forest near England on the first morning of Spring, 2013, with no idea who she was or where she came from. The only memory she possessed was an old photograph of a little girl up in a tower, staring at the stars. She was left to deal with her problems and fight in the name of good, but with a terrible price. One that could not be easily paid. It was either that, or let everything and nothing to be destroyed, letting evil win.

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1. Chapter 1

I awoke, my heavy head and legs in an uncomfortable position on the spiky, sharp rocks. A group of people was standing near me, their heads just above me, their faces lined with worry. They shouted at me, asking me things, but all I could hear were my own thoughts, rushing mentally around in my head. The truth was, I had no idea who I was, or where I came from. It was as if I had just been born, and didn't have a clue about what was happening to me, and not remembering what had happened before.

I let the man's arms grab hold of me, pulling me upwards and into his arms. It felt familiar . . . As if it had all happened before. I heard laughter in my head and saw dancing before my eyes, but the vision disappeared soon enough, when I was taken into something white, with flashing lights that hurt my eyes, causing them to close momentarily. I knew nothing, only that I was there, my blonde hair fluttering behind me and my apple green eyes open wide again, occasionally blinking in the harsh light.

Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion, with the volume turned down and the screen blurred. Was that what it felt like to live for the first time, to let your lungs breath in the strange air plugged into you? I knew how to speak, I knew a few languages, I knew that the creatures trying to save me were humans, but not much beyond that. I let my fingers trace over my silky, soft, blonde hair, taking in it's real beauty. It was so pretty, and I felt truly devastated knowing that I didn't even know something that beautiful belonged to me before that cold, Spring morning.

They had found me next to a river, suspecting it had carried me somewhere else, where I bashed my head and my memory disappeared. I didn't believe that though. Because the baby I was carrying in my womb couldn't possibly survive if that had happened. And she had.

 

I closed the diary with a snap, remembering it all so clearly. Even though it had happened almost a year ago, the memory still haunted me at night, piercing through my dreams and staying there until sunrise. My therapist told me that the dreams would slowly pass, and that I cannot let them get to me, but I felt like they were a part of me, and without them, I would be no where. I already was close enough to that, anyway, I couldn't lose the only memories I had.

I was on my seventh month of pregnancy. Somehow I knew it was a girl, though I hadn't had any scans. I longed for a child, it would be my only escape from the chaos, my happily ever after.

My mobile rang in the kitchen, and I rushed over to get it, and looked at the caller ID. My only and best friend Alyssa. I met her in the hospital, and funnily, she had been found not far from me, just a few metres away. It was thought that someone may have purposefully pushed us in, but like I said, I didn't believe a word of it. I answered the phone, smiling at my bump again. She was getting pretty big.

"Alyssa?" I asked. "How is she, Emz? How do you look? Darling, I haven't seen you and that adorable little bump in forever! You have to come round! Ooh, or actually . . . Emily, get yourself to Starbucks in exactly half an hour! I'm dying to see you!" came the loud reply. "Al-" I started, but she had already hung up.

I sighed. "I guess you and me are going to have a girls night out tonight," I said, looking down. "I think we both deserve it, after all we've been through." I pulled on a strapless pastel dress and a pair of lime green leggings, complete with matching pink ballet flats and green handbag, ready to set off. I also grabbed my purse and a sketch book, just in case I felt like doodling, which I felt like a lot. It was my only escape, and everything I painted or drew seemed to mysterious, so magical . . . I couldn't resist the temptation to take a paintbrush as well. And then I stepped out of my apartment on the very top of the tower of blocks I lived in, hurried down the stairs and out into the fresh morning air.

Most woman would gain a lot of weight during pregnancy, due to cravings and less excersise, but hadn't gained any, apart from the baby in my womb, if that even counted as weight and maybe an extra . I was still a skinny, small breasted young woman, and I looked about sixteen. Older ladies would give me "the glare" as I walked down the streets, and everyone would say "You're pregnant? Dear, you look far too young!" But I just smirked at the ladies and told the others "This is the right decision for me. I am prepared to be a mother." and walked away, swinging my hair behind me.

I braided my golden locks as I wandered along, in the direction of my local Starbucks. Me and Alyssa met there a lot, sometimes to discuss normal things like clothes and bills, sometimes to discuss more personal things like hospitals and my baby and how we were found. I looked at my phone. 5:28. Drat. I had to get there in two minutes, or Alyssa would kill me! She was mega punctual and a bit of a perfectionist, or just had undiagnosed O.C.D. One of the two.

I ran into the store, gasping and panting, just in time. Alyssa was already there, of course.

She was wearing a gorgeous red tank top and black skinny jeans, with her favorite item, her black leather jacket. As soon as she saw me, she ran towards me in her bright red heels, and hugged me, telling me how much she missed me.

"Dahling, my flat is looking awful. Awful! You have to help me, future interior designer and mother!" she laughed. "Well, "dahling," I shall help you sort this perfect disaster in your humble home, if you buy me a juice blend!" I replied. "Well of course! And an apple spice latte for me, too! You know how much I love apples!"

We walked out of Starbucks soon after, our handbags swinging, over to Alyssa's car, which was a gift she had received from a secret admirer. Or the hospital, who I knew felt incredibly sorry for her. It was her favorite color, apple red. We put our seat belts on, and drove off. My eyes focused on her apple charm hanging below the mirror in the car, and felt inside my bag for my sketch book. I started drawing it. Even though I had never gone to any art school as far as I could remember, I knew exactly what to to to make the apple look exactly like Alyssa's, almost like a photo. The car jerked sideways and I started feeling sick, so I put the book back into my bag and relaxed.

We arrived at Alyssa's soon after, and I got to work. Her living room really needed a few . . . Improvements, I would say, so  I grabbed a can of red spray paint and got started. Her tenant wouldn't let her paint the walls, so I just spray painted her photo frames instead. Her furniture was wooden, so we couldn't do anything to that either. I decided to bring in a red fruit bowl filled with apples and place it on her green table cloth. We were just about finished, when the doorbell rang.

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