I don’t know where or when this story begins, and I don’t think it really matters,
Because no one ever cares about how a story begins, as long as the end is good.
Little did they know; only a few stories end happily—simply because they’re not real;
The others, the ones that really happen, have no ending, let alone happy endings.
No one knows when or where it all started; and when they noticed, it was already too late;
They thought people wouldn’t change, and that we could gamble and always win;
First they tried to ignore it, then they tried to deny it, and finally they tried to fix it—but all to no avail;
They forgot that sometimes, people do not really change; they simply reveal what they really are.
He thinks that raising voice and increasing volume will make him more logical,
And that hurting people with words and screaming at them will make him right.
Had they known, that some people would only bring others pain and despair;
Had they known, that sometimes we just have to give up instead of holding on to hope.
She grew up, learning that life isn’t as beautiful as Cinderella and Ariel and Goldilocks;
That not every villain is as easy to spot as the Grandma Wolf and the Wicked Witch—she giggled when she thought of this.
She doesn’t even want to wish for a Prince Charming anymore; no one to sweep her off her feet or kiss her while she’s asleep,
She doesn’t believe anymore; she just simply wants to run away, run away from her fairy tale, because it has no end.
She avoids everyone like a plague, and everyone thinks she’s contented being alone;
Perhaps she is contented being alone—it is hard to tell when everyone reminds her of her fairy tale.
At certain point, she finally wonders; is it in her blood, or is it him who made her like this?
But, alas, does it really matter? The damage is already done; there is no turning back.
She just wants to cut the line, to stop the cycle, to end the story—her story;
She wants to run away, to a place where no one knows her and the other way around.
Perhaps, perhaps, then, she will begin to believe again, and she will learn how to write a new story;
Because no one will remind her of her story anymore, and she will finally be free.
She will learn that the Beast isn’t always a beast, and people don’t always change to be worse;
She will learn that Esmeralda and Quasimodo are just as happy as Shrek and Fiona;
And she will learn that even though a story does not end happily, she can still be happy along the journey;
And when that happens, she will let her story write itself, to wherever the wind blows and carries her…