The Citrus Princess
So the title was good enough for you?
Once upon a time, there was a Princess. Original. Agrume was her name, and she was tall with rangy long limbs. That’s a disgusting name. Agrume was a young princess, only about twelve years old, with wavy brown hair and green eyes. No freckles though. She didn’t get out much. Do readers care about the reasons for freckles? No. Her favorite thing to do was indoors, in the quiet of the dungeon. That’s far too frightening. Tortures happen in dungeons. It’s no place for a little girl. She chose the dungeon for it’s secrecy, because she liked to make orange juice. In her kingdom and time, making orange juice just wasn’t acceptable for royalty. Juicing was something done by commoners, or the royal juicers. You know, servants. I feel as though I’ve seen this storyline before. In every story ever told. But is was just so much fun. She never got to do anything that got her hands dirty. So she was forced to juice in secret.. The poor little rich girl. Couldn’t she be juicing for gifts? For a surprise for a friend? The dungeon was perfect because it had one window next to an orange tree. The fruit literally fell into Agrume’s lap. No one had to know. I suppose that’s a decent background. For a beginner.
The scent was a definite problem though. Agrume solved that one by telling everyone that she had some perfume made from orange zest. Clever. I don’t completely hate that. Zest is much more socially acceptable than juice. Now I hate it. One problem that was harder to solve was what to do with all the juice. She liked to make it, but didn’t like drinking it. I hope you don’t make up a stupid reason for this detail. Let it be. Apple juice tasted much better. You just couldn’t do it, could you? And even if she did like to drink it, she made much more than she could ever drink herself. Good save. She stored what she could in recyclable bottles, but finding somewhere to put all the bottles was constantly on her mind. It’s not like she could give them away. She could give it away. To the underprivileged. She wasn’t supposed to be juicing. How many times are you going to tell us?
One day, she was scouring the forest for caves or boulders to hide the bottles. She was so concentrated on her search that she tripped over an exposed root and fell flat on her face. Oh, the poor child! Instead of feeling pain, she felt soft moss on her cheek. There might still be slight pain. She looked around, and realized that she had fallen on a mossy path. Even if the path was soft, the force of impact could have hurt her. Since she was on a search anyway, which is kind of like an adventure, Agrume decided to follow the path. I’m not certain how concerned you are about the health and welfare of your character. It led to a meadow that looked just like every other beautiful meadow that had ever been found by a wandering princess. They can’t all have been the same. That’s not fair. But this one was different. There was a giant solar powered refrigerator in the middle of it. A little beyond suspension of disbelief, I think. Or that’s what Agrume would have thought, had she lived in an age that had electricity and refrigeration. Not everything has to go green, you know. To her, it was just an enchanted, icy cellar.
Immediately, Agrume was thrilled. Enthusiastic language. Is this some kind of foreshadowing? She unloaded all of her orange juice bottles and turned to run back to the castle for more. But then her thoughts caught up with her. Here it comes. It wasn’t her cellar. It had to belong to someone. The logic here is simply overwhelming. That meant someone else had to know about it, so someone would know about her orange juicing if she left the bottles. How long do you plan to drag out that idea? And on top of that, this wasn’t really an end to the problem. Keeping the orange juice hidden in a meadow was just a way to continue the lies. And therein lies the problem. You found it. She fell to her knees in tears, desperate for a way out of this mess. That’s unexpected.
Agrume’s tears were so numerous that the ground grew muddy and she was stuck fast. Hang on, what’s this? So absorbed she was by her sorrow, she didn’t notice that the grass around her knees grew thicker and longer. Oh, no. It formed into branches and ropy vines that held Agrume tight to the earth. Oh goodness, no. By the time she noticed her bonds, her tears were still damp on her cheeks, and the vines were up to her shoulders. This is bad. She began to scream, but she was so far from the castle, no one could hear. Are you sure? It was too late. No it’s not. It’ll be okay! The vines grew into a tree around her and swallowed her up. For the love of all things holy.
The End
It can’t be. Wasn’t this supposed to be a children’s story?
It is.
It’s a little dark for a fairy tale, don’t you think? Where’s the happily ever after?
Haven’t you ever heard of the Brothers Grimm?
Just stop. This story simply isn’t working out. We may as well give up.
What? No! We can’t give up
It’s over. There’s no point anymore. We aren’t good enough. We just can’t do this.
Yes, we can. I believe in us. Do you believe?
No.
I said, do you believe?
I said no.
I SAID, DO YOU BELIEVE!?
…yes. I believe.
All righty then. Let’s do this.
