The Tale of the Beautifully Broken Maiden. {fiction}
{source}
In a land far, far away, lived a beautifully broken Maiden.
With locks as gold as the morning sunrise, and a heart as pure as white, she dreamed of a day when her tears would turn into laughter.
Much like the battle between good and evil, the fair Maiden went through troubling times, which left holes and scars in places where no one could see. Her skin was fair, and her lips as rosy as morning blossoms.
She had hands as soft as the cotton she lay her head upon at night. Much like the broken soul she so innocently possessed. She thought she’d filled those holes with daisies and covered those scars with honey, until the day that her Knight in shining armor appeared like mist in a valley.
She’d not searched for him, nor did she by any means want to be found.
The fair Maiden had bowed down gracefully to the idea of becoming a Princess, and was content with her friends in the form of kind souls and wet snouts. They made her feel safe and cozy amidst all the evil she could hear lurking within the woods.
However, her Knight in shining armor made his appearance slowly, so as not to scare her away. He knew she was frightful of sudden movements, and like a snowflake rabbit, she would disappear as quickly as the laughter she once possessed.
Little did she know, he would expose those holes and scars in order to cleanse them properly of all the mold that was left behind. Mold that was lurking in the darkness, hiding away, ready to make their appearance when she least expected it.
Once she felt she could trust this kind stranger to see all of her broken pieces she so magnificently hid, the beautifully broken fair Maiden fought hard against that which caused her great discomfort, knowing full well that in order to feel the laughter, she had to endure the storms.
Storms which raged through her soul like the howling of wind between tall standing trees.
She did not enjoy frightful noises and largely engrossed giants. They made her soul weep and her tears feel like oversized rain drops.
Drops so heavy, it made the life in her eyes disappear. The life she thought she had, covered in the idea that she was fine, when all it covered was the mold lurking in the dark. For some magical reason, the Knight in shining armor knew exactly how heavy her tears felt.
He could empathize with every broken piece she possessed and every scar she beautifully hid from everyone around her. He could see the mold. Little by little did he help the beautiful Maiden become less broken and more colorful, like a glowing rainbow symbolizing new life.
As much as the fair Maiden stumbled and pushed and fought her way against the discomfort, the Knight would wait ever so patiently for her to surrender to the warmth he could, and wanted to, provide.
She feared that kind of love, for she had never experienced such pureness. Such patience, coming from a being much like herself. She was frightful of losing her own self, not realizing that the being she thought she knew was far less than the being she was destined to become.
You see, she wasn’t destined to live as a broken but kind soul within herself. The Knight in shining armor appeared out of the woods as calm and gentle as mist within a valley, not to fill the holes and cover the scars of her soul, but to enlighten the beautifully fair Maiden that she was a Princess after all.
To help her realize how, in spite of having initially had the difficult and contrary experience of being down on her knees and washing the floors in her past life, and perhaps because of that, it was time to fulfill her destiny of becoming Cinderella.
The End.
***
Zenka Hattingh originated from a classic romance novel, grew up in a small coastal town, and decided to venture out into the world, which led her to discover a passion for putting words together in a way that offers a little inspiration, an equal amount of laughter, and a whole lot of gumption.
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