Fucked Up Fairytales - An Unofficial Challenge

The new year brought more than second chances, this year, it brought miracles.

Though it would be a while before she would realize it.

After a long cold night of trying to sell her matches, Ella made her way home. Fearful of the beating she was sure to receive from her pappa, she prayed in her head, asking for help and strength to calm him easily.

“Oh grandmother, I know you are busy in heaven keeping everyone safe and warm. Could you please help me to be strong as I tell pappa I was unable to sell my matches? I just want to be a good girl and make him happy.”

As she approached their little shack, she noticed the front door was slightly ajar. Slowly she peeked into the dark room expecting to hear her pappa screaming at her. Instead, she found him asleep in his chair, barely an ember still smoking from the bit of heat still holding on.

Pappa reeked of ale, his jug, bone dry, empty; his face was red as a fresh apple, his hair as orange as the clementine. Ella realized, once again, her only Christmas wishes were never met. It didn’t take long for her to see that he had sold her beloved grandmother's jewelry and spent every crown on more ale. She never got to hold her silver hairbrush and mirror that she brushed her shiny silver locks with. He even sold her old shoes. They would have been much too big; but could have been stuffed with the wool she kept hidden under the bed along with her knitting needles.

For the first time in her little life, Ella was filled with rage. She grabbed the bundle of matches from her satchel and lit it. The flame danced in her eyes as she approached his limp body. Timidly at first, she held the match to his arm, as he rumbled and tossed a bit, she jumped back, blowing out the match and dropping it on the floor. Then, she lit another, this time holding it to his bristly chin.

The long chill was finally gone.

She was awakened from her dream, to grandmother calling her to breakfast.