The Fairtytale Five

I breathed in the misty air of the gracefully falling snow, trembling with nervousness but confident with sheen. It shook, barely, but it seemed disastrous, then again barely though; it was like looking at water drop upon a crystal surface. The snow looked so beautiful, but it was to touch the ground. Everything looks beautiful until it falls down.

My scarlet lips were losing its hue: the careful articulation of design was set upon my face, but too soon did it not last. I could hear the chiming of the clock nearby, only to signal a minute until twelve. It was dark. The dusk dawned upon me, but the street light above succeeded to glare the road ahead. No, this was not at all of significance to my own near yet potential future, but the act of its description seemed so beautiful at the time: leading its path for one who takes the road. No one else was in my presence. I was alone.

If only I had a dollar. If only I had one. Then I could regain my stability and venture into the world again.

As if it would make a difference; in reality, it wouldn’t. But as to grasp on the single slip – indeed, money – with all of my existing hope was urging me to stay afloat upon a racketing ship, to encourage wishful thinking upon turbulence, and to steady my tremulous fingers onto the jagged cliff, what is, hope.

I could wait no longer. He wasn’t coming. I pulled my wool coat over my body to ensure my mental health and weather protection awareness and stumbled on the rocky stone steps up to the clinic, pushed my way inside, only to meet the fresh rush of the blasted heater and the hearty sound of bells as I entered. The worker was pale-faced yet well-built, only to mask his face with an unenthusiastic smirk and an extremely voracious grunt.

“C...

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...n’t you use your pixie dust to explode up this chamber?”

Bell shook her head in disagreement, “No, that won’t work. I don’t have that much left to get out, and that fat receptionist will probably hear us.”

“How about I use my curls to pull down the icicles?” Glory posed, ready to untie her bonnet and whip out her unruly locks of blonde hair.

I shook my head. “It’ll take too long. How about Aurora uses her anti-spindle serum to melt them while you pull them down? It’ll be faster.”

And we agreed on that. In twenty minutes time, the ice chamber was icicle-free, with the only exception of physical ice encumbering the cavern and no possible way to escape with the ice burdening us inside. After another five minutes of brainstorming, we agreed to have Peter douse the hall with his aging deferment medicine, which would turn the ice back into water.

Then we were out.