Roland and the Rose Princess:

Once, I had a family with a sister, her heart was ugly, and a stepmother whose heart dreadfully wicked. Once upon a time, I fell in love with a prince of blood. He and I planned to run away together. Us riding upon his horse chasing the sunset into a happier tomorrow. We were as happy as prince.

However, a night I never saw coming foiled everything. My stepmother is a nightmare, a real witch. She is never satisfied with anything I do for her. I am old enough now to know better. All I do is whistle a cheery tempo and hum a tune to pass the time.

To her, all I am is a spare hand. Someone to scrub the floors, and help with meal prep. While my sister, Matilda never lifts a finger. She tells me, “Gisela, cold enough for you? I am mother’s princess, and a princess is weighted on.”

My stepmother spends her days thinking of nearly impossible task. Secretly, I feel she gets a thrill, seeing my tears fall like a flood. The more work she laid on my shoulders, the less homey the awfully miserable household felt.

I had lost my mother young, and the only thing she left behind was a half lace apron. My “sister” fancied my apron. She was insanely jealous of my single possession. Deep down, I knew my stepmother never loved us equally, treatment of us was not the same. I was just part of the deal, as useful as a luggage trunk. When she married my father, with all the deceptive I do’s. She moved in, and memories of my mother disappeared.

Now, I don’t blame him. He thought he was doing the right thing a motherly presence, help me be a stronger woman. Though, what he did not realize is I liked us, how we were just the two of us.

In the heat of the summer, my stepmother called up, “Gisela come downstairs, be quick child.” I hurried down to meet her. In front of me she poured out a large sack of feathers like a fox in a hen house. The white down blanketed the floor like granules of sugar. “You must pick up all the down, by tonight. If I am asleep by the time you are done. I will lock the door and you child, will have to sleep outside, under the stars. Do not daydream the whole day away.” She smiled, as if rooting for me to fail, and left the room. I could hear Matilda giggle at my expense as if in my face. Her laugh was cheap.

I, sat down to tidy the room, “This is impossible, to finish all in a day!” I cried like cry for help. I let out a sigh as I gathered the feathers in piles. My breath caused the feathers to flutter around the room. In anguish, I started the task over. Sick to death, I laid on my stomach resting on my elbows, hanging my head. In a pitiful tone, I asked rhetorically, “Is there no one who will take pity on a girl like me?” The empty room echoed in silence.

“Be at ease, take comfort in this my child, I am here to help.” A voice behind me, answered my plea.

As looked up at the womanly stranger, like looking through blue glasses. “No one has offered ever before-” I eyed her suspiciously, waiting for the backhanded comments.

“Only tell me what troubles you? “The woman just smiled grabbing my hand comfortingly. Her hand felt cold as a shower.

I vented to the woman, about my misery like I could talk underwater, “My stepmother, well she, I paused to gather my thoughts. She places, one burden on my shoulders after the other. I can never finish the work by tonight like she demands. If I do not my stepmother will make me sleep under the stars!” I replied overly excitedly.

“I am sure her threats are empty my dear.” The woman spoke kindly without judgement.

“No, her threats, are real. I know her, stepmother always keeps her word.” I choked up at the realization.

“Do not be afraid of your stepmother, my child, it is not work that kills, but worry. Go rest awhile, I will take over the workload.” The woman assured me, as she waved me away like a fly.

“Thank you, kind lady,” I nodded as I went upstairs to bed.

When the woman heard the door close in a groan she got to work. Nimbly she cleared up the feather disaster in haste. I awoke to see feathers neatly stacked in piles. Thank god! The task is done, but the kind woman has vanished strangely enough. I wonder where she went?”

I sat and waited for evening to come around. This was the first time in years, I had time on my hands to just sit and decompress. My stepmother came in and did not marvel at the work I had done. Instead, she said, “Oh Gisela, you awkward girl. See what can be done when you put your mind to something? You are quite industrious she sneered. You sit there with your hands crossed, just listening to my words, when you could have been doing something else productive.” She scolded.

Again, my stepmother had to have the last word. I could hear her mumble, “Gisela gah that, that lowly creature! She might be worth more than a grain of salt after all. I must give her a more difficult task. She will surely fail next time.”