Rapunzel Retold

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Let down your hair!” Came my mother’s voice from the ground.

I sighed and threw down my 70 feet of blonde hair. Why on Earth did she not install a door! How did she get up here when I was younger? I felt her climbing up my hair, and, yes, it really hurt. I gave up on screaming out in pain a long time ago.

“Rapunzel! Why haven’t you cleaned up?” She demanded as she stepped up.

I stared at her. A ladder would work as well. “I’m sorry mother. I really didn’t feel like it.” My mother had black hair and baby blue eyes like mine. That was the only way I knew she was my real mother. Our eyes look alike.

“Didn’t feel like it?! Nothing ever get’s done while I’m not here!” She exclaimed.

Stairs would be excellent. “You’re here for like, an hour every day, mother.”

“Yes and that’s long enough to clean the kitchen and make you dinner!” She retorted.

“I’m sorry mother. I was wondering if we could go outside today.” I asked her. I wonder how I would get down…

“Now Rapunzel, you know you are never to go outside. There are people who would attempt to kill you for being a witch.” She said, trying to reason with me.

“You’re a witch and nobody has ever tried to kill you!” I challenged. And so went another visit with my mother.

The next day, I was sitting in one of the many rooms in my tower that defied the laws of physics. As I sat, I was weaving and singing, just doing what I always do. When was the last time I had any fun? Oh right. I’ve never had any fun. At all.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Let down your hair!” Called a voice that was clearly not my mother’s. This is new! Something exciting! I quickly threw my hair out the window, and gasped as somebody who was obviously much heavier than my mother began climbing.

Oh...I really want those stairs. I also really hate my mother for not giving me stairs when I asked for them on my birthday. Or that ladder that rolls up. Up through my window came the most handsome man I had ever seen. Or, rather the only man I had ever seen.

He was much bigger than I was. Like...big. From the books I’ve read, I think it would be called fat.

I didn’t waste much more time gazing at him when I felt another person climbing my hair. After a moment, I decided that this man took the cake for the most handsome, hands down. He had a sturdy build, but not like the other guy. He wasn’t fat.

He had blonde hair and sharp green eyes. I pulled my hair up as I felt another person grappling at my hair.

“What do you call yourself.” The blonde man asked.

“I am called Rapunzel by all but myself, since I do not speak in the third person.” I replied. My mom taught me about the dynamics of writing. I may not get out much, but I am quite learned indeed!

“Don’t try to get cute, witch.” The fat one stated.

Well that was rude. “Witch? I am no witch.”

The blonde man laughed. “You’re such a liar, my dear.” I found this amusing, as opposed to frightening.

“Oh, a liar I am, but an insignificant, rude, arrogant conceited fool I am not.” I retorted.

The blonde guy got red in the face. “I’ll have you know I am a prince!”

I snickered. “Pardon me for not bowing, your rudeness.”

“Now you listen here, witch. You’re going to come with me to my kingdom, and you will protect it from invaders.” Blondie stated.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I have no ladder, no stairs, and no door. Now then, I suggest you leave.” I replied.

“Just fly, witch.” Fatty fatty two by four demanded.

“That’s a popular misconception. If I could fly, I would be gone by now. Perhaps you should come tomorrow and bring me some fabric. I might be tempted to sew a ladder. Oh, and leave the fat one at home.” I snapped.

“Fine!” He snapped right back. I used a bit of magic and tossed him out of the window with it. I made sure they landed softly though.

The blonde man continued to visit in the afternoons, and I found out his name was Alexander. I like to call him Alexander the unfortunate. Eventually, we fell in love.

I stalled as best I could, always weaving the ladder slowly. It was made of silk. I didn’t want to leave the mother who had always taken care of me. Until I found out she wasn’t my real mother.

Apparently, I was taken from my mother who had eaten  my fake mother’s rampart while she was pregnant with me. It gave me magical abilities, and my fake mother stole away with me in the night.

I left the day after I found out, rubbing my belly. I could tell I was going to have twins. Alexander and I got married, and we all  lived happily ever after. Even my fake mother, as we got her a job as the castle’s witch. Even if she wasn’t my real mother, she did raise me.