To Be Young

Victoria played with the chain around her doll’s neck. She twisted it back and forth with her fingers and stared at herself in the mirror. The doll in her lap sagged against her chest. One eye was missing and patches of its curly black hair were long ago torn out. Its once white dress was stained yellow, rips marring the hem. The doll stared back at Victoria in the mirror, watching her stroke the golden bell, on its golden chain. 

    “If you ring it,” she remembered him say, “I will come.”

    A trail of sparkles floating in the air and sticking to her hair caught Victoria’s attention, followed by the buzzing of fluttering wings. A golden pixie appeared in her sight. The pixie colored each of Victoria’s blonde curls black with her little wooden comb. The darkness bled into her light hair until not a single blonde strand remained.

    The pixie fluttered near Victoria’s eyes, so close her image became a golden blur blocking the mirror. The comb swiftly morphed into a wand. She propped an eyelid open with it, which made the eye as wide as possible. The pixie blew on her hands, covering them with a blue paste that she used to color Victoria’s brown iris. After covering each iris with blue, and allowing the paste enough time to dry. She zapped the eyes with her wand, making them sparkle.

    Victoria stared at herself in the mirror. Her pale hands stroked her black hair, pulling it up and then letting it fall. The curls returned to their place. She admired her eyes, touching the dark lashes that shaded the blue. Her fingers moved to her lips, stroking the upper and then the lower.

    “Flora,” Victoria called.

    The golden pixie fluttered into sight and bowed.

    “My lower lip needs to be plumper.”

    Flora tapped the lip with her wand and motioned towards herself. It followed the motion of her hands until Flora tapped it again, making it stop in place.

    Victoria leaned towards the mirror, stroking her lower lip with a critical eye. She rubbed them together before puckering them and blowing a kiss at herself in the mirror; giggling in a high pitch tone. Her legs kicked back and forth several inches above the floor.

         “Don’t I look dashing, Flora?”

    “Careful not to use too much magic, Miss Victoria,” warned a young man striding into the room. His cane clicked on the glossy wooden floor and white rose petals fell from the bouquet in his arms, making a trail behind him. Throwing both his black top hat and cane into a cushioned chair, he swept a low bow to Victoria while smiling charmingly.

    Victoria held out her hand, laughing at his elegant show. He took it and pecked a quick kiss on her knuckles before

standing. “And why is that, Bennet?” Victoria asked, blushing.

    Victoria craned her neck, trying to see Bennet as he moved behind her. “Do you recall Lady Manchester’s daughter, Mary Elizabeth?”

    Victoria groaned while rolling her eyes. “Pig-Nose?”

    “Indeed, that would be the one,” said Bennet said, crouching and looking up at Victoria from her side. “Apparently, as rumor has it, her father brought her a witch for her tenth birthday.”

    “Oh, bother,” Victoria said, rolling her eyes once more. “What happened?”

    “Cursed.”

    Victoria gasped, her hand quickly covering her open mouth. She giggled before asking, “How did this happen, my dear?”

    Bennet jumped to his full height. He straightened his black jacket and fixed his bowtie, an overly serious expression masking his amusement. “The poor dear couldn’t decide if she wanted to be a fairy, a unicorn, or a mermaid,” he said. He closed his mouth tightly, giggles escaping. “Kept switching back and forth between them all!” he said, laughing. “In the end she became all three. Now the poor dear has a horn protruding from her head, wings on her back, and her feet! My god! Don’t even ask!”

    Victoria laughed and clapped her hands. Her black heels kicked back and forth while she wiggled in her pink cushioned chair. Flora, sitting on the vanity, laughed as well. Sparkles floated in the air and landed on Victoria’s frilly dress.

    “And that, my dear, is why you need to be more careful,” said Bennet, handing her the bouquet.

    Victoria took the roses gently and laid them in her lap, her smile falling. Pale fingers stroked the soft petals, her eyes examining each one. Not a single petal was marred by a brown spot. Victoria was careful not to prick her finger as she brought one to her nose. She inhaled deeply.

      “Aren’t they beautiful, Victoria?”

    The rose dropped from her hand and quickly she threw the bouquet onto the vanity, Flora scrambling to get out of the way. The petals slowly dripped to the floor, landing soundlessly. Flora flew down and began lifting each one off the floor.

    “Aren’t they beautiful, Victoria?”

    Victoria, smiling thinly, redirected her attention back to Bennet. “I don’t think I’m as stupid and brash as Mary Elizabeth, Bennet,” she said, stroking the golden bell. “I only use magic here and there, like any other girl my age. Nothing that extreme.”

    Victoria’s and Bennet’s eyes locked. Flora’s buzzing wings and the faint sound of violins coming from the ballroom below them could be heard. Victoria could see Flora pass with a pile of white petals out of the corner of her eye. The pixie threw the white pile out the window and then returned to the remaining petals.

    “Do you not like the roses?” asked Bennet. “They reminded me of you.”

    Victoria blushed, shifting her eyes away from his gaze. Her finger lifted from the bell. “They do?” she mumbled, smiling.

    Bennet smiled and nodded. “You’re very pretty. Sometimes I see my little sister in you,” he sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “God rest her soul.”

    Victoria frowned and scowled at the floor, her eyes watering while her face flushed. She twisted the bell’s chain around in her fingers violently. I remind him of his sister? That’s just great! Just wonderful!

    A knock rapped at the door.

    “Enter,” Victoria called.

    “My lady,” the servant began, “the guests are growing restless.”

    Victoria nodded and leapt down from her chair. She walked out of her room. Her head barely reached Bennet’s waist as she passed him, ignoring his gaze. She held her doll tightly, her white gloved hand grasped the banister.

    “Be careful,” Bennet warned, taking her other hand.

“I’ll be fine,” Victoria muttered, her visage growing darker.

Slowly, she took a step down, her grip on the banister tightened. Her legs wobbled.

“I could carry you,” Bennet offered.

Victoria’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushing dark red. “How dare you offer such an indecent-!” She stopped upon seeing Bennet’s teasing smile. She smiled. “Aren’t you in a mood?”

“Aren’t I always?”

Victoria didn’t answer. She arrived on the platform and stared at the hundreds of people waiting in the ballroom. The crowd quieted upon seeing her white-clad form and stared back at her with curious eyes. She smiled brightly, her dimpled and rosy cheeks charming the audience.

    “Thank you so much for attending my tenth birthday,” she said, curtsying.

    After a low curtsy, Victoria stepped down the stairs carefully on her own, grasping the railing tightly. She reached a foot down one stair, then another, until finally a young man came to help her. “Thank you so much!” she said with a smile.

    Victoria walked into the crowd. “Happy Birthday,” said the ladies and lords she passed.

    “Thank you.” Her voice was even higher than before with a lisp she never used with Bennet.

    “…her mother,” she heard someone whisper.

    Victoria held her smile, walking faster.

    “…birthday…”

    Her smile strained, pushing her away through the crowd.

    “…want…” a child whined.

    “…she died…”

         Victoria’s shaking hands tightened into fists.

         “…this day, sixty years…”

    Victoria collapsed into a chair by a present-covered table. She grabbed one present, looking around to see if anyone was watching while tugging on the red ribbon. Slowly she peeled away the gold wrapping paper and opened the box. Inside was a porcelain doll. It resembled her old doll once when it was new: black curly hair, bright blue eyes, a white frilly dress. It was beautiful, a doll any girl would want.

    Wonderful, another doll, she thought to herself, frowning. Just what I wanted.

    Victoria set the doll back in the box and sat back. She held her own doll closer and stroked the bell once more. Her eyes scanned the crowd, eyes darkening upon seeing Bennet dancing with a pretty redhead. Her fingers wrapped around the bell.

    “If you ring it, I will come.”

    Victoria flicked the bell, making it ring once. It was enough. She saw the eyeless holes staring back at her through the crowd, the white mask laughing at her. The man behind the mask twisted his black cloak around himself.

    “Don’t worry,” he said, “it’ll be alright. Don’t cry!”

    “I don’t want to be old!” Victoria shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks, covering her face with her hands.

    “I can fix that.”

    He was out of sight within a blink of an eye. Victoria abruptly stood. “Wait,” she whispered. She looked back where Bennet was dancing, but he was no longer there. Neither was the masked man.

    He was sitting in a chair, staring straight at Victoria.

    Victoria blinked her eyes. He was gone again. Her eyes scanned the room once more, but she couldn’t find him. She caught a glimpse of a black cloak. “Wait!” she shouted, running through the crowd, pushing and shoving people to the side.

    Victoria ran down the stairs and burst through the doors leading to the outside. She ran down the street, searching the dark shadows until she found the cloaked man. Victoria ran after him, her short legs making it hard for her to catch up. She grabbed his cloak and pulled him toward her. “Please, help-”

    Victoria stopped when the man turned around. He wasn’t wearing a mask. The man had graying hair and a thick beard. It wasn’t him. “Sorry,” Victoria muttered, letting go of the garment.

    The man mumbled something before leaving. Victoria turned around, gasping and shivering. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Where am I? she asked herself, looking around at the unfamiliar townhouses.

    “Victoria!” shouted Bennet. She turned, seeing him running toward her. His handsome face a mix of worry, joy, and anger.  It made her laugh. “Victoria, where do you think you’re going?” he asked, stopping in front of her. His hands on his knees, back hunched down, gasping; trying to regain his breath. He ran a hand through his blonde hair.

    Victoria sighed. “Nowhere.”

    Bennet grabbed her shoulders roughly and stared straight into her eyes, his gaze dark. His hands shook and his jaw clenched before pulling her into a hug. He squeezed her hard and cradled her head. Victoria blushed, her body tense. “Don’t do that ever again,” he whispered. “Be happy for once.”

    Victoria smiled and allowed herself to relax in his arms, resting her cheek against his. “I am,” she said.

    “If you ring it, I will come.”



********

    The explosion was what smacked Victoria awake and out of her bed. Glimpses of light in the darkness were seen through the window, followed by another roar that shook the house. The wind blew violently against the curtains, rain blowing into her room. Victoria rushed to the window, her feet slipping in the puddles on the floor. The drenched curtains wrapped around her scrawny form. The droplets smacked her in the face as she closed the window. Victoria let out a breath after locking them shut. Her gaze focused on the outside. Darkness leered back at her. I can’t see the trees, she thought, walking closer.

         A glimpse of light-

         The laughing mask was there-

    Staring back at her. Victoria jumped back, her shriek caught in her throat. His gloved hands pawed at the window. His head cocked to the side. Victoria inched away, squeaks escaping from her open mouth. The light struck once more.

He was gone.

    Victoria ran to the window, searching through the black storm until she found a cloaked figure jumping over the gate surrounding the garden. She stumbled towards her boots and coat and threw them on. Opening the door, she winced upon hearing its creaking. She walked down the stairs slowly and carefully. Upon reaching the foyer she opened the door and ran into the storm and down the street. She ran faster than she had before, looking for a glimpse of a mask or cloak; looking to see foot prints in the mud.

         Nothing.

         Victoria stopped and looked around. The storm was dying. The rain became mist. No one was nearby. She was alone. A door slammed shut. Victoria whirled around, noticing someone on the porch of a house behind her. Quickly she hid behind a gargoyle by the house, while she heard the person lock the door. The figure wore a cloak.

         Victoria’s breath quickened. Her eyes watched the person. Is this him, she wondered. I didn’t know he lived so close. The person turned around.

         It was a woman.

         Victoria felt her heart drop at the sight of the woman. Her interest was piqued, however, when the woman took something pink and placed it on her face.

         Victoria’s eyes widened. The thing was narrow, covering the woman’s entire face. There were two holes for black eyes, a pale blue color shading the holes like eye shadow. A pink nose with two holes to breathe poked out. And a hole for a mouth shaped in an “o” with red paint surrounding the hole like lipstick.

         It was a mask.

         “Witch,” Victoria whispered.

         The woman walked down the stairs and across the street into an ally. Victoria followed her down the ally, keeping enough distance between them. The woman stopped under a sign. It was dangling on its last chain. Most of the words were washed out. Yet, the last remaining word was what caught Victoria’s attention.

         “House,” she read, her hands shaking. Where witches gather to sell…

         The woman entered the building. Victoria walked toward the door. He has to be here. She licked her lips, reaching out her trembling hand to open the door. What if you never come out? Victoria quickly pulled back. She looked down the way she had come and back at the door. A sigh escaped her lips and her foot slid back.

         The door slammed open, revealing a green mask; a mask that look as if it were rotting. Warts covered the mask’s nose. The cheeks were sunken in. The black eyes were mournful while the mouth was shaped into a scream.

         Victoria screamed.

         The witch threw back his head and laughed. “You’ll do!” he shouted, grabbing her hand and dragging her inside.

         Victoria stumbled in her attempt to keep up with the man. She tried tugging her hand out of his grip, but it was too tight. Her eyes widened upon entering the brightly lit room.

         Inside were witches and normal people. She saw the woman with the pink mask. She was not wearing a cloak. Instead she was wearing a rather revealing red top that only covered her breasts and a red shawl for her bottom, which exposed her ankles.

         Victoria blushed as she passed by her.

         “Please,” she heard the woman beg a smug aristocrat. Victoria recognized Lord Manchester. “Please let me cast one spell. Just one,” she pleaded.

         Victoria ran into the witch’s back, who had stopped suddenly. Her gaze drew to the culprit that stopped them, eyes widening. A white mask laughed at her.

    “I can make you young forever.”

    His promise rung in her ears, distracting her from the witches’ heated argument. “I can make you young forever,” she whispered to herself, tears streaming down her face. Her lower lip quivered, her face twisted. A hiccup began to escape her throat. She slapped the green witch’s hand away and ran towards the white mask, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

         “Obviously she doesn’t want you,” said the white masked witch to the other. “Find someone else, Charles.”

         Charles, the green-masked witch, stomped his foot. “I found her first, Edwin,” he whined. “I haven’t had a fix in so long!”

         Edwin wrapped his cloak around Victoria. “She’s an old client. You can’t touch her.”

         Charles chuckled. “As old as the one woman you accidently cursed?” Victoria felt Edwin tense. “Wasn’t she your lover once? Sometimes I wonder how long it’s been since your last fix.” Victoria looked up, noticing that Charles was very close. “Since you last cast a spell.”

         “She was my sister. Get your facts straight, goblin-face.”

         Charles backed off. “Well,” he huffed. “You may have the child. You need her more than I do.”

         Charles left and Edwin drug Victoria to a relatively quiet, empty booth. He threw her into the cushioned chair and sat down quickly, his cloak shielding the events around them.

         Tears dribbled down Victoria’s cheeks, her eyes entranced by the white mask.

         “Why did you ring it?” Edwin hissed.

         The tears fell faster.

         “Why are you here?”

         Victoria choked back a sob.

         Edwin grabbed her chin and pulled her closer. “Still you cry,” he whispered. “Even after I granted your wish.”

    Victoria shook her head. “I was stupid back then. So stupid!” she shouted. Her hands pulled at her hair. “I don’t want to be young forever! I want to grow up! I want to be normal! I want to be older…”

    Edwin cocked his head. “Old?”

Victoria simply nodded. “Why such a change of heart?”

    Victoria shook her head, her face flushing. “I’ve fallen in love.”

    “With who?”

    Victoria hesitated before answering, “Bennet. My caretaker.”

    Edwin laughed. “Your caretaker?” he asked. “I’m sure this Bennet likes you the way you are. Why else would he take care of a brat like you for so many years?”

    Victoria shook her head. “He only sees me as a sister!” she shouted. “A cute little baby sister. Nothing more.”

    “You want him to see you as a woman?”

    Victoria blushed even more. “Please,” she whispered. “Please make me older.”

    Edwin shook his head. “What’s done is done. I no longer cast spells. I’m an entertainer now.” He reached behind her ear and pulled out a flower. “See?” he said, handing her the flower. “Besides, you could get cursed.”

    “That won’t happen to me.”

    “I said no.”

    Victoria grabbed his cloak, staring up at the masked man with tear filled eyes. “Please,” she sobbed. “Please! I can’t stand it! He flirts with every girl he sees. Right in front of me!”

    “I’m sure he doesn’t mean to hurt you,” he said, taking her hands in his. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

    “You won’t,” Victoria said. “I promise. You won’t hurt me.”

    Edwin stood abruptly. The world behind him once again revealed.

Charles was with another “non-magic user”, speaking in a different tongue and moving his arms slowly back and forth over a rock. The rock turned into gold. Charles collapsed, his body relaxed and slumped while handing the gold over to his master. The man ogled the gold, a smile on his face. Charles layed on the ground moaning in bliss.

“Do you not see what’s happening?” Edwin scolded. “It’s addictive!”

Victoria looked away upon seeing the woman.

“Have you even considered the price?” Edwin hissed. “Have you even considered what you have to give up to have your wish?”

    Victoria sniffled, her jaw clenching, stopping a sob that threatened to tear at her throat. Don’t you dare cry, she told herself. Don’t you dare! “Everyday I live with the shame,” she gasped. “Everyday I remember the sin I committed… and the guilt.” Victoria stopped and closed her eyes.

    “You look beautiful, Victoria,” said her mother. “My little birthday girl.”

    Victoria took a deep breath before letting it out and opened her eyes. “The guilt eats away at me. I can’t forget what I’ve done, no matter how hard I try.”

    Edwin shook his head. “Yet you still ask for this?” he asked.

    Victoria nodded. Her eyes focused on the dirty floor, grasping his hands. “Yes,” she whispered. “I still ask for this.”

    Edwin stood from the booth, grabbing Victoria’s hand and hauling her up, too. He tugged her back to the entrance and into the alley. Victoria watched him pace back and forth, mumbling words in another tongue. Finally he stopped and took out a vial from a pocket in his cloak. Her eyes widened.

*****************

    He held out the vial. “Do you know what this contains?”

    Victoria shook her head. “No.”

    His black gloved hand motioned her forward.

She complied.

He opened his cloak for her and she sat nearer to him, his warm coat protecting her from the outside. Victoria’s gaze focused on the vial.

    “It’s poison.”

*********************

    “Conditions are different,” Edwin said. “There’s nothing inside.”

    Victoria nodded and took the vial.

    “Fill it with pixie blood.”

    Victoria’s gaze immediately lifted, looking at the laughing mask.

Flora.

“What?” she shouted. “After I’ve already given up so much? You want that?”

    “Taking away something meaningful grants any wish,” he explained. “Unless… you’d rather drink Bennet’s blood?”

    Victoria shook her head. “But I still can’t do that!” she yelled, grasping his cloak by the collar. “I can’t do that! I can’t do that!”

    Edwin pushed her away and adjusted his cloak. “I advise you don’t,” he said. “Be happy, Victoria. Be happy with the things you have for once.” Edwin turned and walked away.

    “Wait!” shouted Victoria. “When will I see you again? Where should I meet you?”

    “Eleven thirty in the gardens tomorrow night.”

********

    Victoria awoke the next day with Bennet sitting next to her, holding her hand. He was sound asleep. She shifted in the bed. The movement woke him, making him sit up. Dark circles colored the skin under his eyes. Victoria smiled at him. “Good morning,” she greeted.

    Bennet let go of her hand, frowning. “Good morning, Miss Victoria.” He stood, walking away.

    Victoria’s smile fell. “Are you all right?”

    Bennet stopped, his shoulders slumping. “You’re scaring me, Miss Victoria. Please don’t do that anymore.”

    “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

    Bennet turned back to Victoria. His smile revealed his fatigue. “Promise me, you’ll stay with me tonight.”

    Victoria nodded. “I promise.”

    Bennet let out a breath. “Good,” he whispered. “You are happy, aren’t you, Victoria?”

    Victoria nodded, smiling. “I am.”

    “Good,” Bennet said before leaving the room.

    Flora fluttered inside and hovered over Victoria with a wet rag. “Victoria!” Flora cried. She hugged Victoria, snuggling her head into her neck.

    “I want you to fill it with pixie blood.”

    “Bennet found you outside in the rain!” Flora explained. “Why were you outside in the rain?”

    Victoria stared past her. “I was seeing an old friend.”

    “Why?” Flora asked.

    Victoria turned toward the pixie. Maybe I can get the same affects with another pixie. “Flora, could you help me with something?”

    Flora nodded her head quickly. “I’d help you with anything, Victoria. Anything!”

    Victoria smiled. “Do you know of any other pixies in the vicinity? Where I could find them?”

    Flora thought briefly. “Mary Elizabeth has a pixie. She’s so stuck up!”

    “Good,” Victoria said, getting out of bed. “After you’ve finished helping me, call the carriage to the front.”

      “But Mary Elizabeth hasn’t been taking calls lately,” said Flora. “Not since the incident.”

    Victoria stood and took off her nightgown. “Call the carriage to the front.”

********

    Victoria sat in a cushioned chair in the parlor. Flora sat on her shoulder. “She won’t come,” she whispered in Victoria’s ear. “She won’t come.”

    Victoria stood upon seeing the door across from her open. Flora fluttered off of her shoulder. Two servants carrying a couch entered. Sitting on the couch was Mary Elizabeth, fanning herself. The first thing Victoria noticed was the white horn protruding from Mary Elizabeth’s forehead. The wings weren’t seen. They were hidden underneath the floral cloth wrapped around her body. But Victoria could not hide her gasp when she saw Mary Elizabeth’s long, blue scaled tail hanging over the edge of the couch.

    The servants set the couch in front of Victoria. They bowed their heads and waited for further orders. “Leave,” ordered Mary Elizabeth. Victoria watched the servants leave, trying to ignore the horn.

    “What do you want?” asked Mary Elizabeth. “Come to laugh at me?”

    “No,” said Victoria, her gaze shifting to the floor. “I mourned for you when I first heard what happened.”

    Mary Elizabeth snorted. “What do you want?” she asked.

    “I heard you had a pixie.”

    Mary Elizabeth laughed. “You want my pixie? What about that one?” Mary Elizabeth motioned to Flora, who hovered near Victoria’s ear.

    Victoria shook her head. “I need two.”

    “Why?” Mary Elizabeth asked. She eyed Victoria up and down. “You use too much magic. I can smell it on you.”

    Victoria’s hands fisted while she smirked. “I won’t end up like you.”

    Mary Elizabeth giggled. “Most likely worse.”

    Victoria scowled. “Where’s your pixie?” she asked.

    Mary Elizabeth yawned. “I’m so tired,” she groaned. “I think I’ll have a nap.”

    Victoria smacked her. “Where’s your pixie, Mary Elizabeth?” she shouted.

    Victoria’s fists shook as she stared down at Mary Elizabeth, whose eyes were wide and watering. Mary Elizabeth touched her injured cheek. She burst into tears and sobbed, “I sold it!”

    Victoria sighed, the tension in her fists relaxing. “This was pointless,” she said before leaving.

********

    Victoria paced in her room. She was alone. Bennet was meeting with some nobles. Flora was making flower crowns in the garden.

“Think,” she whispered to herself. “Think.” She stopped and looked at herself in the mirror, fixing a curl that dropped in her eyes. “I need Flora,” she told herself.

    The father clock in her room chimed seven. Victoria’s breath quickened. What am I doing? She asked herself. I

have less than five hours to find a pixie. Who sells pixies? How did I even get Flora? Victoria grasped her hands together, keeping them from shaking. Flora does everything for me. She does my hair, helps me dress, cheers me up, tells me jokes, makes flower crowns for me…

Victoria stared at herself in the mirror, hearing Flora’s humming from outside the window. She walked toward the window and watched the golden orb flutter from flower to flower.

Is this something I really want? She asked, looking out the window briefly before turning away and walking out of her room. “Where is Bennet?” she asked a maid, who was dusting.

The maid smiled. “He is meeting with a young lady right now,” she said softly.

Victoria’s breath caught in her throat. “With whom?”

“I’m afraid I didn’t catch her name,” said the maid. “But she’s a very pretty lady. She had red hair-”

“Red hair?” Victoria interrupted, her gaze growing dark.

“Yes, my lady,” said the maid nervously.

“Why is she here?”

The maid cringed. “Well… it’s just a rumor but… she may be Bennet’s fiancé.”

Victoria gazed past the maid. “Oh,” she said distantly, her eyes filling with tears. “I see.” She walked away from the maid and down the stairs.



******************



    Victoria met her grandmother on her tenth birthday. The woman was old, wrinkled, and crippled. Her legs had stopped working a long time ago. She got around by a wheelchair, which was pushed by her witch servant. The sight of her made Victoria cry.

    “There, there,” whispered Victoria’s mother, rubbing her back. Victoria smelled the white roses in her mother’s hair. “She was cursed. You’ll never look like her.”

    “Is the princess all right?” asked her grandmother’s witch- a cloaked man wearing a white laughing mask.

    “Here,” her Mother said, putting Victoria’s hand in his. “Take her to her room. Show her some tricks. That’ll make her feel better.”

    It didn’t work. Nothing worked. Victoria could still see her grandmother’s wrinkled, crippled form in her mind’s eye. He tried so hard. He made jokes, did dances, changed himself into so many different animals. Yet, the harder he tried the more she cried.

    “What’s making you so sad?” he asked, handing her a porcelain doll with a bell around the neck. “I hate seeing such a pretty girl cry.”

    Victoria’s sobs dwindled upon seeing the doll. Her fingers stroked the bell. “If you ring it, I will come. Whenever and wherever, I’ll be there to help you when you’re down.”

    Victoria sniffled, tears streaming down her cheeks. She felt another sob bubbling in her throat.

    “Don’t worry,” he said hastily, “it’ll be all right. Don’t cry!”

    “I don’t want to be old!” Victoria shouted.

    “I can fix that.”

    Her tears stopped. “You can fix it?” she asked.

    “I can make you young forever.”

    “How?”

    “What’s the most important thing to you?” he asked, crouching down to her short height.

    “Mother,” she said, staring into the darkness meant to be his eyes.

    He held out a vial. “Do you know what this contains?”

    Victoria shook her head. “No.”

    His black gloved hand motioned her forward. She complied. He opened his cloak for her and she sat nearer to him, his warm cloak stifling her shivers. Victoria’s gaze focused on the vial.

    “It’s poison.”

    “Poison?”

    “Give it to your mother and you’ll be young forever.”

    Victoria grabbed Flora by her wings. Flora dropped the flowers she held. “What?” Flora stuttered, beating her tiny fists on Victoria’s hand. Tears streamed down Victoria’s cheeks, tipping Flora upside down and holding the vial underneath the pixie. Her hand slowly squeezed.

    “It hurts!” Flora screamed. “It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!” She coughed, her wings trying in vain to free her. Her fists punched Victoria’s hand.

    A sob escaped Victoria’s throat. She clamped her lips shut and bit her lower lip, squeezing harder. Flora coughed and gasped for breath. Golden blood poured from her open mouth. Victoria squeezed harder.

    Flora’s punches lessened and her wings twitched briefly before the pixie became limp. Victoria opened her hand, not watching Flora fall. She sealed the vial, then left to wash her hands.



                                                          ********

    Victoria sat on the edge of the fountain, staring at her reflection in the water. The vial sat in her lap. She heard the crickets and saw the fireflies’ light in the garden. “This is for the best,” she whispered. “And then we’ll live happily ever after.”

    “So you actually did it,” she heard Edwin’s voice say from behind.

    Victoria didn’t turn around. “Don’t judge me, Witch,” she whispered. “It was for the best. She would have complied if I asked her.”

    “Selfish,” he said, sounding hurt, even betrayed.

    Victoria stood up, turning toward him. Her face lacking emotion, but her eyes were still swollen. “Are you going to do it or not?”

    Edwin held out both hands and from one hand a silver goblet grew. Victoria’s eyes widened. “That… that cup-,” she stuttered.

    “…Is the same cup your mother drank from,” Edwin finished. “The vial, please.”

    Victoria walked forward and set the vial in the palm of his hand. Edwin dumped the contents of the vial into the cup. He mumbled a few words in an unknown language while waving a hand over the goblet. Afterwards he spit in the cup, making the liquid hiss and boil. He handed the goblet to her, his hand shaking. “Drink it and you’ll be older,” he gasped.

    Victoria took the goblet and stared down at the bubbling liquid. Drink it, she told herself. Drink it. She put her lips to the rim, but she didn’t take a sip. Her lips withdrew from the goblet, the image of her mother drinking from the same cup haunted her mind. This is Flora’s blood, Victoria thought, staring down at the gold liquid. Tears filled her eyes.

         “She may be Bennet’s fiancé.”

         Victoria gripped the goblet and quickly brought it to her lips. She drank the contents.

    Victoria felt the effects immediately. She dropped the goblet, her knees falling with it. Her sight blurred, her bones and head ached. She groaned, grasping her ears, trying to stop the ringing in her head. Her eyes clamped shut. The ringing and pain stopped with that motion.

    Victoria felt her hair sticking to her face and pushed it back before opening her eyes. She smiled at Edwin. He stared back at her quietly. “Am I old?” Victoria asked.

    “Yes,” he said.

    Victoria ran her hands through her hair. It felt thin. And it felt dry. Drier and thinner than it had ever been throughout the sixty years she remained a child. She pushed herself up, trying to stand. Yet, suddenly she felt weak. Her gaze shifted down to her hand.

    It was wrinkled. It was boney. Green and blue veins showed underneath the skin, which hung loosely on her body. Victoria brought this hand and the other into sight, studying each wrinkle marring them. Her hair fell from the top of her head. It was white. She looked back at Edwin.

    “What?” Victoria whispered. Her voice sounded scratchy to her ears. “What did you do to me?”

    Edwin walked toward Victoria and fell on his knees in front of her. He took off his gloves and gently touched her cheek, catching a tear that dripped from her eye. Victoria’s hands touched his white mask briefly before lifting it from his face.

    Tears streamed down his cheeks. His handsome face twisted in order to stop a sob. His gaze was caring and sad. Blonde hair hung limply in his blue eyes. Those blue eyes she loved.

    “Bennet,” she whispered.

    Bennet took off his cloak and wrapped it around her body. “Too much magic,” he whispered.

    Victoria moved away from his touch. “No!” she shouted. “No! I’m not cursed! I’m not!” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “No,” she sobbed.

    Bennet grabbed her chin. Victoria stared back at him through watery eyes. She sniffed and wiped the tears away from her eyes.

“Have you ever been happy?”

    Victoria shook her head. “I don’t want to be old,” she said.

    Bennet stared back at her. His tongue licked his lips and, for a moment, his gaze turned to the ground. “Victoria,” he started, his gaze returning to her. His hands trembled. “I wish I could make you happy. Why can’t I make you happy?” he sobbed.

    “Bennet,” Victoria started.

    “I’m important to you, aren’t I, Victoria?” Bennet asked.

    Victoria nodded. “Very much.”

    Bennet took the goblet and morphed it into a knife. “Choose,” he whispered. “Which will make you happy? Beauty or my love?” He handed the knife to Victoria. “You may have been cursed, but my life is important to me. I’m important to you. My wish is to make you happy. Whatever you choose will come true,” he explained.

    Victoria stared down at the knife. Her reflection greeted her, the wrinkles staring back at her. She looked at Bennet, who sat in front of her, waiting for her to choose. The image of the red-head invaded her mind.

         She may be Bennet’s fiancé.”

    Victoria slowly leaned forward, her grip on the knife tight. Her lips touched Bennet’s lightly, then pressed firmly against them.

“I knew you would choose love,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “I knew you would choose-”

    Victoria held him tightly against her in a hug. The knife plunged deep into his body. Her hair went dripped black, her wrinkles smoothed. She let go of the knife and gazed into his eyes, her lips brushing his once more.

    Bennet held her tightly and smiled. “Are you happy?” he gasped.