Here is my entry for Rutvi’s contest! Go team Gazelle!

The roses were burnt, the wedding forgotten. The queen was nothing, the king’s heart was rotten.

This little rhyme I read each night. I thought it was a fairytale. Until I saw a tower. Her hair hung down low, golden with a few streak of gray, just like the prince-but his hair had no gray.  The tower, tall and made of stone, was a prison. I had known something wasn’t right- the magic had felt different. Yes, the magic. Our town is full of it. Trolls, unicorns, everything.  But my mother says one day the magic went wrong.

The tower was impossible to climb. And falling from it meant certain death. But did it mean we had no queen? No, she was there. I saw her. I heard her voice, like honey. And the magic told me.



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