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Blood Red
[size=3][size=5][size=6]A long time ago in the century of clichéd fairytales, a baby girl was born to the king and queen who was christened Blood Red. Sadly the queen died of severe lung cancer and the king, like Hamlet's mother, remarried within a month. Now Blood Red wasn't your typical, picture-perfect princess, in fact she was the exact opposite! She was an aggressive tomboy who had a passion for wresting and was a shameful disgrace for her parent's good looks. Her father was an ignorant aged man, who liked to squander his time in smoking and drinking compared to her stepmother who was a graceful and elegant woman who always radiated an aura of warmth in shiny, curly hair ,only existed in advertisements, and bright red lipstick. Red detested her with unparalleled loathing.
Now fate had decided Red's name because when she was born her skin was an unattractive blotchy red colour, similar to blood clots so she was named Blood Red. Joining the lengthy list of ridiculous names such as 'Snow White' and 'Sleeping Beauty', Red often enjoyed to scorn, although her own name wasn't much of an improvement.
Her stepmother's most beloved mirror was a priceless antique given to her by the king for one of their anniversaries, but to Red it was a symbol of utmost betrayal of her father. One night, when the moon was particularly pallid, and the wind had settled in for sleep, Red crept into her stepmother's powder room and vandalised her mirror, which sat accusingly in the dark corner of the room, spray-painted with colourful expletives.
"Let me be your ruler, ruler..." she hummed, contented with her 'work' and scurried into the manipulative arms of darkness.
The king was furious, the next morning at breakfast, absolutely livid to the point where you could almost see thin wisps of steam trickling out of his ears. The silence at the table grew pregnant apart from the dainty clattering of their knives and forks, like a calm sea before a storm.
"How dare you! Doing such a thing to your mother! When has she ever offended you Red? We brought you up better than that!" the king exploded, loosening the tie around his neck to a more comfortable fit.
"What do you mean how dare me? You don't even know if it was me and she's not my mother, and she never will be!" hissed Red indignantly and glared maliciously at her stepmother who was calmly inspecting her recently done French manicure.
"That's enough, you will not insult my wife like that! Pack some things because I'm sending you to a cabin in the woods!" huffed the king, the worst of his temper had yet to pass, and sent for one of the dry cleaning ladies to take her to her punishment.
Upon arriving at their destination, the lady handed Red the key to the cabin, then left hastily like a thief in a Gucci store. Listlessly, Red slumped onto the coarse blankets of her bed and sighed, feeling unwanted, unloved and unhappy. She wished her mom was still alive, and closed her eyes, desperately grasping at the few, fragile and fading moments of the better times. A few moments later, a smart rapping on the door sent her crashing back down to the harsh world of reality. Who could it be? A thief? A hobo? Red peered through the peep hole and was shocked to see an old, wrinkly granny on the other side of the door and immediately flung open the door and pasted a goody-two-shoes smile on her face in spite of her shock.
"Hello there dear, couldn't help noticing the lights on in this thing," the granny gestured towards the cabin with her wooden cane while Red nodded, too stunned to comprehend what she had just remarked. The granny smirked evilly, because she was secretly a witch in disguise, and Red was her next target which she would turn into a maid. Granny witch knew she couldn't afford to hire one of those expert cleaning ladies who went by 'Prompt, Professional Service' so she put spells on people to turn them into her personal maids.
Craftily, she pulled out her first edition 'Harry Potter' wand out of her copy Chanel bag, while distracting Red with a light-hearted conversation about the weather. One... Two... Three...
"Abracadabra!" she shrieked in her best imitation of Gargamel and instantly Red was enveloped in a whirlwind of dust, which swirled on and on and on until it finally settled to reveal a very unexpected sight - a tabby cat.
"Well that certainly was not what I wished for!" cried the granny witch obstinately but nonetheless scooped up the cat and hobbled into her AS380 -AIR helicopter and whizzed out of sight with the unfortunate cat mewling miserably.
To this day you might be able to catch a glimpse of a witch with her cat in a helicopter - but that's only once in a blue moon.
Moral: Everyone is more or less master of their own fate.
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