Monday 5 December 2011
5
Symudiad can't be a cat. Why would Symudiad be a cat if he's in my head. Maybe I'm hallucinating. But I can't be Hallucinating he knows too much. Maybe Caesara was right when she said I was like a God out of one of the stories. But then that doesn't make sense, if I was a God surely I'd remember it.
You're not a God.
Good Good. At least I got that right.
You're taking this well.
I think I'm in a state of shock. I can only take this if you're part of my subconcious.
We can deal with that. I can only hint anyway, I can't blatantly tell you what to do. It sucks but we need to work around it.
Why?
Orders.
Wha...?
Don't worry, you don't need to know, and even if you did I can't tell you. I think it's fairly obvious what we need to do, the question is how...
We need to get away from the thugs?
Correct. It's interfering...
What with?
Never Mind.
You're useless! What good is it having a cat inside your head if he can't tell you anything.
That's exactly what I said but would they listen...
Alright Mr Cryptogram. We're going to wake Caesara up, I don't want her near them much longer. Then we're going to get out of here, which means you need to start working now.
Who said I was taking orders?
You!
Well... Yes... But not from you.
Well now you are!
That was when the spluttering started.
Am I right in thinking that you need me more than I need you seeing as how you can't actually help me through your own volition?
I suppose...
In that case, from this point on you will be taking orders and you will be taking them from me.
Symudiad walked off. Silo began to think he wasn't going to help.
Fine!
There was a squeal from the front seat.
"I got BIT!"
Now then smartypants. What're we doing?
You're not a God.
Good Good. At least I got that right.
You're taking this well.
I think I'm in a state of shock. I can only take this if you're part of my subconcious.
We can deal with that. I can only hint anyway, I can't blatantly tell you what to do. It sucks but we need to work around it.
Why?
Orders.
Wha...?
Don't worry, you don't need to know, and even if you did I can't tell you. I think it's fairly obvious what we need to do, the question is how...
We need to get away from the thugs?
Correct. It's interfering...
What with?
Never Mind.
You're useless! What good is it having a cat inside your head if he can't tell you anything.
That's exactly what I said but would they listen...
Alright Mr Cryptogram. We're going to wake Caesara up, I don't want her near them much longer. Then we're going to get out of here, which means you need to start working now.
Who said I was taking orders?
You!
Well... Yes... But not from you.
Well now you are!
That was when the spluttering started.
Am I right in thinking that you need me more than I need you seeing as how you can't actually help me through your own volition?
I suppose...
In that case, from this point on you will be taking orders and you will be taking them from me.
Symudiad walked off. Silo began to think he wasn't going to help.
Fine!
There was a squeal from the front seat.
"I got BIT!"
Now then smartypants. What're we doing?
A Note From the Team
Issue 6 is finally here!
We'd like to apologise to you all for the delays in it's arrival, however there is a good reason behind it as approximately 80% of us moved to University this September and were simply unable to keep up with the demand of writing on a weekly basis. With that in mind some alterations are coming to Dickens Periodical, from this point on we will be posting on a calendar monthly basis, with an issue appearing on the first monday of every month. It'll keep the same basic format, but hopefully with more people getting involved as we go along. Hopefully this is a pace we'll all be able to maintain on top of studying and other commitments we have.
With that in mind We'd like to welcome not two new contributors. So Welcome on board Clarissa bringing us 'The Unusual Fairytales Chronicles: Bad Timing' and Joscelyn with '
Tourniquet'.
Also in this months issues are updates from some of our previous tales.
Here's to hoping you enjoy.
The Team at Dickens Periodical
We'd like to apologise to you all for the delays in it's arrival, however there is a good reason behind it as approximately 80% of us moved to University this September and were simply unable to keep up with the demand of writing on a weekly basis. With that in mind some alterations are coming to Dickens Periodical, from this point on we will be posting on a calendar monthly basis, with an issue appearing on the first monday of every month. It'll keep the same basic format, but hopefully with more people getting involved as we go along. Hopefully this is a pace we'll all be able to maintain on top of studying and other commitments we have.
With that in mind We'd like to welcome not two new contributors. So Welcome on board Clarissa bringing us 'The Unusual Fairytales Chronicles: Bad Timing' and Joscelyn with '
Tourniquet'.
Also in this months issues are updates from some of our previous tales.
Here's to hoping you enjoy.
The Team at Dickens Periodical
Tip 4
Creating a Character
It doesn’t matter what genre of fiction you’re writing; you’re going to have to create a large number of characters. These will be the major protagonists and antagonists as well as minor characters that may only appear in one scene. Here are a few tips on how to create those characters.
Don’t start a character with a name or physical appearance. Start with their backstory. You need to know how these characters will react to certain situations and delving into their past is the best way of doing this. That said, don’t waste your time writing every detail of their past. Only write the basics and anything else relevant to the story; you don’t need to know every single detail about their life, just the important bits.
Give your characters problems. The main character in your book must have the biggest problem but the other major characters should also have problems, whether they are the same as the main character, or something else entirely. Start by thinking about this question; “What does this character want more than anything else in the world?”. When you’ve worked their main aim out, start creating problems that will get in the way of that aim.
Empathize with your characters, do not sympathise with them. Understand what makes them tick and understand what causes them to act the way they do, but don’t let that understanding change tempt you to go easy on a character. If they’ve done something bad, don’t let them off the hook if they had a good reason for doing what they did; they need to face the consequences of their actions
Write from your life. If you’ve had a particular experience you want to put in your story, use what you remember to write it. Emotions, feelings, hopes and fears are all a lot easier to write about when you know exactly what it’s like from past experiences.
It doesn’t matter what genre of fiction you’re writing; you’re going to have to create a large number of characters. These will be the major protagonists and antagonists as well as minor characters that may only appear in one scene. Here are a few tips on how to create those characters.
Don’t start a character with a name or physical appearance. Start with their backstory. You need to know how these characters will react to certain situations and delving into their past is the best way of doing this. That said, don’t waste your time writing every detail of their past. Only write the basics and anything else relevant to the story; you don’t need to know every single detail about their life, just the important bits.
Give your characters problems. The main character in your book must have the biggest problem but the other major characters should also have problems, whether they are the same as the main character, or something else entirely. Start by thinking about this question; “What does this character want more than anything else in the world?”. When you’ve worked their main aim out, start creating problems that will get in the way of that aim.
Empathize with your characters, do not sympathise with them. Understand what makes them tick and understand what causes them to act the way they do, but don’t let that understanding change tempt you to go easy on a character. If they’ve done something bad, don’t let them off the hook if they had a good reason for doing what they did; they need to face the consequences of their actions
Write from your life. If you’ve had a particular experience you want to put in your story, use what you remember to write it. Emotions, feelings, hopes and fears are all a lot easier to write about when you know exactly what it’s like from past experiences.
Prologue
Tristan leaned against the wall, his bare arms hugging his chest. Despite his defensive posture Tristan's hazel eyes were alight with defiance. “I told you, I’m leaving” he whispered, his voice somehow calm despite the raging maelstrom of half-formed thoughts and warnings that swirled through his mind “I’m not afraid of you anymore”
“Oh?” Michael asked, his fists were clenched so hard that this knuckles were white “Tristan...”he began before he was abruptly cut off
“No! Don’t you dare!” Tristan jabbed at his father’s chest “Don’t! You can’t stop me. I will not let you stop me!” he spat, and he wouldn’t let Michael stop him. Not when they’ve finally reached this point; when Tristan could stand before him and not tremble, for once not caring about nor fearing the violence that shone in Michaels frost-grey eyes. Michael smiled laughingly “Where will you go? You’re nothing but a poor naive child” he mocked, then began slowly walking towards his son with the carful deliberate tread of a predator. He placed his hands on the wall either side of Tristan, blocking him in, invading Tristan's personal space, stopping when their faces where no more than an inch apart “Your mine” he growled “To use as I see fit...and I won’t let you go” he hissed
"I told you already" Tristan snapped "I’m leaving and you WONT STOP ME!” He wouldn't, just couldn't stand there and let Michael break him again, he would not stand there and listen to it anymore "Can't I?" Michael asked his voice dangerously low “And I told you before I won’t tolerate your defiance, didn’t I?” He snapped as he struck Tristan across his face who cried out, cupping his nose and mouth trying to stem the blood that poured through his fingers. Michael smirked as he wiped his bloody fist down Tristan's t-shirt "I'd clean that up if I were you, after all you wouldn’t want to go out all bloody” he said “Gives the wrong impression kid”
“I. Hate. You” Tristan ground out through ragged breaths, he coughed as the blood trickled down the back of his throat. He cast another defiant glare at his father who had retreated slightly. Tristan smiled a humourless, bloody smile as he pushed Michael further away and calmly left the room.
Michael stood there for a moment seething but seemingly unable to move. How dare he! Michael thought shocked “How dare he!” Michael repeated aloud. He watched as Tristan gathered his few treasured possessions and head towards the door.
Perhaps if Michael had really thought about it, he’d of realised that Tristan had finally been pushed too far and that he just might not come home again. But then again Michael never truly believed that Tristan would leave him in the first place, he’d made sure to break Tristan just enough, enough to make him totally dependent and submissive, which was, if Michael was honest, was the reason why he remained stupefied, stock still and silent. It was why Michael could never let Tristan go...because he needed Tristan just as much if not more than Tristan needed him.
Several hours later...
It was dark when Tristan arrived at his Grandfather’s house. He tentatively knocked upon the blue door. Tristan absently noted that his Grandfather would probably not recognise him due to the ugly bruising that graced his face.
The door opened slightly “Hello?” The sliver of the man that was visible revealed deep green eyes that crinkled at the edges and dark hair.
“Grandfather...Please can I come in?” he asked forlornly, staring at his feet awkwardly. The old man’s eyes widened in surprise as Tristan looked up with such pain and sadness in this eyes that the older man’s breath caught in his throat for second. Tristan’s normally soft hazel eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying, his thick reddish-brown hair was in disarray and the bluish-black bruises stood out starkly against his pale skin.
“Trist? What the hell?” He exclaimed in a shocked gravelly voice “You look awful!” He shut the door a moment unlinking the chain before throwing it open and hugging Tristan forcefully. “I’ll make some tea and then you have to tell me everything...” He whispered softly to Tristan, who was currently clinging to him like he never wanted to let go, Tristan’s grasp was almost desperate. “I mean it Trist. Now c’mon” he extrapolated himself and pulled Tristan in to the warmth of the house.
“Oh?” Michael asked, his fists were clenched so hard that this knuckles were white “Tristan...”he began before he was abruptly cut off
“No! Don’t you dare!” Tristan jabbed at his father’s chest “Don’t! You can’t stop me. I will not let you stop me!” he spat, and he wouldn’t let Michael stop him. Not when they’ve finally reached this point; when Tristan could stand before him and not tremble, for once not caring about nor fearing the violence that shone in Michaels frost-grey eyes. Michael smiled laughingly “Where will you go? You’re nothing but a poor naive child” he mocked, then began slowly walking towards his son with the carful deliberate tread of a predator. He placed his hands on the wall either side of Tristan, blocking him in, invading Tristan's personal space, stopping when their faces where no more than an inch apart “Your mine” he growled “To use as I see fit...and I won’t let you go” he hissed
"I told you already" Tristan snapped "I’m leaving and you WONT STOP ME!” He wouldn't, just couldn't stand there and let Michael break him again, he would not stand there and listen to it anymore "Can't I?" Michael asked his voice dangerously low “And I told you before I won’t tolerate your defiance, didn’t I?” He snapped as he struck Tristan across his face who cried out, cupping his nose and mouth trying to stem the blood that poured through his fingers. Michael smirked as he wiped his bloody fist down Tristan's t-shirt "I'd clean that up if I were you, after all you wouldn’t want to go out all bloody” he said “Gives the wrong impression kid”
“I. Hate. You” Tristan ground out through ragged breaths, he coughed as the blood trickled down the back of his throat. He cast another defiant glare at his father who had retreated slightly. Tristan smiled a humourless, bloody smile as he pushed Michael further away and calmly left the room.
Michael stood there for a moment seething but seemingly unable to move. How dare he! Michael thought shocked “How dare he!” Michael repeated aloud. He watched as Tristan gathered his few treasured possessions and head towards the door.
Perhaps if Michael had really thought about it, he’d of realised that Tristan had finally been pushed too far and that he just might not come home again. But then again Michael never truly believed that Tristan would leave him in the first place, he’d made sure to break Tristan just enough, enough to make him totally dependent and submissive, which was, if Michael was honest, was the reason why he remained stupefied, stock still and silent. It was why Michael could never let Tristan go...because he needed Tristan just as much if not more than Tristan needed him.
Several hours later...
It was dark when Tristan arrived at his Grandfather’s house. He tentatively knocked upon the blue door. Tristan absently noted that his Grandfather would probably not recognise him due to the ugly bruising that graced his face.
The door opened slightly “Hello?” The sliver of the man that was visible revealed deep green eyes that crinkled at the edges and dark hair.
“Grandfather...Please can I come in?” he asked forlornly, staring at his feet awkwardly. The old man’s eyes widened in surprise as Tristan looked up with such pain and sadness in this eyes that the older man’s breath caught in his throat for second. Tristan’s normally soft hazel eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying, his thick reddish-brown hair was in disarray and the bluish-black bruises stood out starkly against his pale skin.
“Trist? What the hell?” He exclaimed in a shocked gravelly voice “You look awful!” He shut the door a moment unlinking the chain before throwing it open and hugging Tristan forcefully. “I’ll make some tea and then you have to tell me everything...” He whispered softly to Tristan, who was currently clinging to him like he never wanted to let go, Tristan’s grasp was almost desperate. “I mean it Trist. Now c’mon” he extrapolated himself and pulled Tristan in to the warmth of the house.
Prologue
“Stella, will you pass us those books please?” Eddie Books call was muffled; he was on top of a ladder with a pile of books stacked up in front of his face, he was having difficulty holding them. He looked at his daughter Stella, who was underneath dreaming, doodling in her notepad.
“Stella!” He yelled as books fell from his hand onto the floor.
CRASH!
“What is that noise?” A female voice screeched, seconds later a face matching the voice appeared. She could have been an attractive woman, yet she wore far too much make-up, her clothes were tight, exuding her curves to the point that she may burst. She had evil eyes and wore an evil smile, extended by the fact she had only had her fillers put in that morning.
To Stella this was her daily nightmare, her stepmother Millie.
Stella looked up, as if she had only heard him for the first time. “Sorry.” she mumbled.
Standing up she reached for the pile of books labelled ‘children’s’. She pulled one out and smiled, Cinderella, her favourite fairytale.
Millie snatched the book out of her hand. “You should be helping your father.”
Stella looked her in the eye, then bowed. She was not brave enough to answer back.
Eddie sighed from above; she was always in her own little world, and Millie and her daughters Carmel and Baker were always picking on her.
Climbing down the ladder to pick up the fallen books, he clasped Stella’s shoulder reassuringly and said; “Stella love please can you stop dreaming for once and help me get the books out, the shop opens in a few hours.”
She smiled and closed her notebook “of course dad.” She bent to the floor and cleaned up.
Millie put a possessive hand on Eddie, “Me and the girls are getting our things unpacked then are going shopping.”
Eddie; “Ah excellent idea, we will need some food.”
Millie made a dramatic sigh, “No you idiot, clothes shopping, the girls need to get ready for their first day at sixth form. I can’t have them going in last seasons wear.”
Eddie shook his head; “But Millie, I just spent lots of money buying the shop, can’t your shopping trip wait until we see how business is doing.”
He knew it was a useless plea, Millie Books nee Witchan seemed to put a spell on him the first time he saw her and had done ever since. Ever since his wife had died, he wanted a figure for
Stella, his quiet and beautiful Stella who didn’t know what a wonder she was.
Millie patted his shoulder patronisingly; “Well then you will just have to work harder to make profit first time.”
She turned on her heel and left, she never spent too much time with them unless it worth her while. However that was the way Stella liked it, just her and her dad.
He sighed and shook his head, “We better get a move on then.”
“Stella!” He yelled as books fell from his hand onto the floor.
CRASH!
“What is that noise?” A female voice screeched, seconds later a face matching the voice appeared. She could have been an attractive woman, yet she wore far too much make-up, her clothes were tight, exuding her curves to the point that she may burst. She had evil eyes and wore an evil smile, extended by the fact she had only had her fillers put in that morning.
To Stella this was her daily nightmare, her stepmother Millie.
Stella looked up, as if she had only heard him for the first time. “Sorry.” she mumbled.
Standing up she reached for the pile of books labelled ‘children’s’. She pulled one out and smiled, Cinderella, her favourite fairytale.
Millie snatched the book out of her hand. “You should be helping your father.”
Stella looked her in the eye, then bowed. She was not brave enough to answer back.
Eddie sighed from above; she was always in her own little world, and Millie and her daughters Carmel and Baker were always picking on her.
Climbing down the ladder to pick up the fallen books, he clasped Stella’s shoulder reassuringly and said; “Stella love please can you stop dreaming for once and help me get the books out, the shop opens in a few hours.”
She smiled and closed her notebook “of course dad.” She bent to the floor and cleaned up.
Millie put a possessive hand on Eddie, “Me and the girls are getting our things unpacked then are going shopping.”
Eddie; “Ah excellent idea, we will need some food.”
Millie made a dramatic sigh, “No you idiot, clothes shopping, the girls need to get ready for their first day at sixth form. I can’t have them going in last seasons wear.”
Eddie shook his head; “But Millie, I just spent lots of money buying the shop, can’t your shopping trip wait until we see how business is doing.”
He knew it was a useless plea, Millie Books nee Witchan seemed to put a spell on him the first time he saw her and had done ever since. Ever since his wife had died, he wanted a figure for
Stella, his quiet and beautiful Stella who didn’t know what a wonder she was.
Millie patted his shoulder patronisingly; “Well then you will just have to work harder to make profit first time.”
She turned on her heel and left, she never spent too much time with them unless it worth her while. However that was the way Stella liked it, just her and her dad.
He sighed and shook his head, “We better get a move on then.”
Chapter 1
Stella was humming as she dusted down some books. She liked the fact her stepsisters were at school and she was not. She had always been home schooled by her father due to her agoraphobia, she could not step outside into the real world, so she made up her own.
The opening had been a great success, so many of the locals had come to have a look. She watched and smiled at her father as he shared his knowledge with the kind old Mrs Goodfair.
She was the very first customer, and was particularly interested in magical stories; she had sat and chatted to Stella, who had listened politely, she was shy around strangers. Yet when they went, Stella liked to note them down in her notepad; she would turn them into characters in her little fairytales.
She sat down and opened her notebook. She wrote the title The Unusual Fairytale Chronicles. In her head she planned to turn real life into a fairytale. She was Cinderella, Millie was the wicked stepmother, Carmel and Baker the ugly stepsisters, Mrs Goodfair she decided would be the fairy godmother. She seemed the type for the fairy godmother, kind and dotting. Stella sighed, she needed her Prince Charming, but at this moment in time he was unavailable.
“Hello Stella.” A voice said.
Stella jumped and snapped shut her notebook. She looked round to see Mrs Goodfair.
Mrs Goodfair; “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Stella smiled; “It’s ok, I was off in my own little world again.”
Mrs Goodfair nodded to the notepad in her hand. “Do you write?”
Stella held the notepad protectively against her chest. “Sometimes, but they’re just nothings, I just make them up inside my head.”
Mrs Goodfair smiled, “Well maybe I could look some time, I do like a good story.”
Stella nodded, “Did you find what you were looking for?”
Mrs Goodfair grinned; “Yes your father seems to have everything in this place. I needed another fantasy novel; I can’t get enough of those.”
Stella smiled; “They are the best.”
Mrs Goodfair smiled, surprised, it was the first time she had had a proper conversation with the girl. She continued; “Oh, what is your favourite?”
Stella blushed. She never had conversations unless it was with her dad. “Um. Nothing really, uh.
Well I suppose I like the fairytales, which I know are for kids.”
“Oh no dear, fairytales are for everyone, they are the ideal life we wish we could have. Even an old codger like me still believes in them.” Mrs Goodfair said reassuringly. “And don’t let anyone tell you different.”
Stella smiled back, she admitted to herself she liked the old lady and enjoyed her company. She didn’t have any friends; Carmel and Baker’s friends all thought she was weird. Her sisters didn’t deny it; they said; “Oh that’s our stepsister Stella, she doesn’t go to school.” Their friends asked why, and they would reply “She has some condition.” Then their friends would look at Stella funnily and turn their back, she was not one of them.
“Hey stuffy, how are you?” Carmel clipped Stella round the head as she sat in the kitchen reading a textbook eating her cereal.
Stella rubbed her head, “I’m fine.” She mumbled. She stared from under her golden fringe at her stepsister; Carmel was small and large all at the same. Her hair was short in a bob, but it didn’t fit her long pointed face, her body was bulky due to her shortness, causing her clothes to crease round the curves. Carmel said it ‘hugged’ Stella thought the clothes seemed to scream for air.
Carmel grabbed an apple for breakfast, she liked to make out she ate nothing. Yet Stella knew there was a secret stash of fatty food in her bedroom cupboard, after all she cleaned her bedroom to get her off her back. Millie had made Carmel and Baker go on a diet, it seems the trip to the shops was not successful as designer clothes are not forgiving.
It didn’t bode well for Stella as it meant they would be grouchy and their favourite punchbag, her.
Baker waddled in. Her designer handbag almost as big as her. She opened the clutch with a furious snap and dropped bar after bar of chocolate in. She looked at her sister. “Screw it I’m not dieting.”
Carmel looked; “Well if you don’t then I’m telling mummy.”
Baker’s eyes narrowed; “How old are you, stupid.”
Carmel’s face creased to think of a comeback; “Don’t call me stupid, stupid” She pushed
Baker.
Stella stood up to avoid the confrontation, but it was a bad move, as Carmel pushed Baker she flew straight into Stella’s hands, taking the plate out and falling to the floor.
CRASH!
“What is going on in there?” Millie appeared suddenly at the doorway. “Baker what on earth are you doing?”
Baker looked at her stained top, drenched in milk. Her lip started to shake. She screamed; “Stella poured her breakfast on me!”
Stella stared; she couldn’t believe she was going to get the blame.
Millie looked at Stella coldly “Is this true?” Her expression read I’m not going to believe you.
Stella shook her head. Baker got up and shook herself down. “Look at my top mummy, it’s ruined.”
Millie grabbed Stella and forced her into the wall. “Do you know how much this cost me you stupid girl? A lot of money.”
Stella looked at her in the eye. “You mean a lot of my father’s money.” She wanted to say. She didn’t have the guts, so continued to take the barrage of abuse.
Millie; “Well I will ask your father to take the money out your wages. Now, go tidy this place up its disgusting. We have lives to lead.”
Millie turned, ending the conversation yet stopped when she saw the open handbag. She marched over and screamed tipping it of its contents. She turned to the girls who had retreated towards the doorway.
“If I find any chocolate in this household, it is not going to be very nice for that person.” She hissed, staring straight at Stella.
“Yes mummy.” Carmel and Baker chimed.
“Is that clear Stella.” Millie said.
“Yes Millie” Stella said quietly.
Millie smiled, “Run along and be a good girl and get to work Stella. Baker go change your top.”
Baker and Stella left the room. Baker huffed up the stairs while Stella followed watching her movements and feeling anger build with every step.
Why did you do that Baker? Why do you like to get me into trouble? Stella wanted to scream.
Baker turned, “What you looking at freak? I can’t believe you ruined that top, I was going to impress Marcus today and you ruined it.”
Stella recoiled at the venom, “Who is Marcus?” She muttered trying to make conversation.
Baker stopped, either shocked that Stella had spoken or that she could be so stupid. “Well Marcus Charms is the best looking guy in school, not that you would know, and anyway he wouldn’t look twice at you. He would be like everyone else and acknowledge that you don’t exist.”
Baker grabbed a top out the cupboard; she smiled “No offence.” She slammed the door in Stella’s face.
Stella turned round and sighed. Marcus Charms, I think you may be my Prince Charming.
Her dad appeared “Stella” he said and beckoned her to come down, he gave her a hug,
something he only did when Millie was not about; “I heard what happened. I know it wasn’t you.”
Stella smiled into his shoulder, she missed their closeness. Everything had changed since he married Millie, she couldn’t blame him but she knew she had to break Millie’s spell before she lost him forever.
Stella smiled and said; “Thanks dad.”
Eddie smiled, “You’re my favourite girl, you know that don’t you?”
Stella’s heart warmed, “Yes dad.”
Eddie smiled, yet Stella saw a twinkle appear in his eye as reached into his pocket, “Well as we seem to have a chocolate ban, I think we can risk it.” He lifted two sachets of hot chocolate mixture. “Cream and marshmallows?”
Stella nodded in excitement. Eddie smiled “Our little secret eh? Just hold the fort while I make this.”
Stella sat herself on the counter humming. She picked up the copy of Cinderella on display and flicked through to her favourite part, where Cinderella met the prince. She looked at the illustration; his cloak exposed his macho, lean arms, his face was handsome and bore a smile that rivalled the sun. She read the caption underneath and smiled. “Prince Charming” She was too enthralled to hear the door open.
“Hello?” a warm voice said; Stella looked up and jump falling from the counter backwards, yet the fall never came, a heroic hand saved her. Confused she looked up.
“Are you alright? I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said, she nodded, jumping off the counter and colliding with his chest. She pulled back and took a closer look at his face, smooth and smiling, his grin was perfection as his lips formed a circle of infinite possibilities.
“Hi” she said; “Welcome to Stella Books.” She pulled herself together and smiled.
“Hi.” He replied, “And you are?”
“I’m Stella,” she replied, she raised her eyebrow, your turn.
“I’m Marcus by the way,” He said stepping forward towards her.
She manoeuvred herself out of his grasp; the closeness was creating too much heat. “Were you looking for anything?”
Marcus stared at her curiously “I…” He stared forward, mouth open, Stella followed his gaze, he muttered “Oh no.”
Baker and Carmel came bounded in and chimed together. “Marcus there you are we wondered where you got to!” They restrained themselves from pushing each other but they managed to crowd round Marcus, who became physically uncomfortable.
Marcus “I thought I would come and look at the shop. You talked a little about it and I was just talking to Stella.”
The sister’s eyebrows rose in sync. “Were you?” said Baker, her smile forced; Stella knew she was in for it later. “Well we do love our Stella.” She pulled Stella into a tight hug, but there was no warmth and she let go as quickly pushing Stella to the side.
“Why don’t we give you a tour of the house?” She took Marcus’ arm possessively.
Marcus grimaced, yet the sisters did not notice. “I really have to be going, you know lots of work.”
They pouted and whinged; “Oh Marcus do you really have to go?”
Marcus pulled away; “Sorry ladies, maybe another time.” He looked directly at Stella, their eyes holding, her heart stopped, “I’ll pop by another time.” He said slowly.
He turned and left through the door.
Baker turned on Stella “What did you say to him?” She pushed Stella against the bookshelf.
Stella felt the pain go up her back, “Just hi.”
Baker face flushed with anger; “Well next time, keep your mouth shut.” Baker looked at Carmel.
Carmel mimicked; “Oh, yeah, keep your mouth shut.”
They turned and left as Eddie appeared in the doorway with the hot chocolate.
Baker looked and snapped as she smelt the chocolate; “What’s that?”
Eddie replied “My drink. Now get gone.”
Eddie turned to see Stella had slipped down the bookshelf; he came and sat down next to her. She turned to him and took the drink, they sat in silence. He knew she would put this in her notebook, but what he didn’t know was what damages would happen next.
The opening had been a great success, so many of the locals had come to have a look. She watched and smiled at her father as he shared his knowledge with the kind old Mrs Goodfair.
She was the very first customer, and was particularly interested in magical stories; she had sat and chatted to Stella, who had listened politely, she was shy around strangers. Yet when they went, Stella liked to note them down in her notepad; she would turn them into characters in her little fairytales.
She sat down and opened her notebook. She wrote the title The Unusual Fairytale Chronicles. In her head she planned to turn real life into a fairytale. She was Cinderella, Millie was the wicked stepmother, Carmel and Baker the ugly stepsisters, Mrs Goodfair she decided would be the fairy godmother. She seemed the type for the fairy godmother, kind and dotting. Stella sighed, she needed her Prince Charming, but at this moment in time he was unavailable.
“Hello Stella.” A voice said.
Stella jumped and snapped shut her notebook. She looked round to see Mrs Goodfair.
Mrs Goodfair; “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Stella smiled; “It’s ok, I was off in my own little world again.”
Mrs Goodfair nodded to the notepad in her hand. “Do you write?”
Stella held the notepad protectively against her chest. “Sometimes, but they’re just nothings, I just make them up inside my head.”
Mrs Goodfair smiled, “Well maybe I could look some time, I do like a good story.”
Stella nodded, “Did you find what you were looking for?”
Mrs Goodfair grinned; “Yes your father seems to have everything in this place. I needed another fantasy novel; I can’t get enough of those.”
Stella smiled; “They are the best.”
Mrs Goodfair smiled, surprised, it was the first time she had had a proper conversation with the girl. She continued; “Oh, what is your favourite?”
Stella blushed. She never had conversations unless it was with her dad. “Um. Nothing really, uh.
Well I suppose I like the fairytales, which I know are for kids.”
“Oh no dear, fairytales are for everyone, they are the ideal life we wish we could have. Even an old codger like me still believes in them.” Mrs Goodfair said reassuringly. “And don’t let anyone tell you different.”
Stella smiled back, she admitted to herself she liked the old lady and enjoyed her company. She didn’t have any friends; Carmel and Baker’s friends all thought she was weird. Her sisters didn’t deny it; they said; “Oh that’s our stepsister Stella, she doesn’t go to school.” Their friends asked why, and they would reply “She has some condition.” Then their friends would look at Stella funnily and turn their back, she was not one of them.
* * *
Stella rubbed her head, “I’m fine.” She mumbled. She stared from under her golden fringe at her stepsister; Carmel was small and large all at the same. Her hair was short in a bob, but it didn’t fit her long pointed face, her body was bulky due to her shortness, causing her clothes to crease round the curves. Carmel said it ‘hugged’ Stella thought the clothes seemed to scream for air.
Carmel grabbed an apple for breakfast, she liked to make out she ate nothing. Yet Stella knew there was a secret stash of fatty food in her bedroom cupboard, after all she cleaned her bedroom to get her off her back. Millie had made Carmel and Baker go on a diet, it seems the trip to the shops was not successful as designer clothes are not forgiving.
It didn’t bode well for Stella as it meant they would be grouchy and their favourite punchbag, her.
Baker waddled in. Her designer handbag almost as big as her. She opened the clutch with a furious snap and dropped bar after bar of chocolate in. She looked at her sister. “Screw it I’m not dieting.”
Carmel looked; “Well if you don’t then I’m telling mummy.”
Baker’s eyes narrowed; “How old are you, stupid.”
Carmel’s face creased to think of a comeback; “Don’t call me stupid, stupid” She pushed
Baker.
Stella stood up to avoid the confrontation, but it was a bad move, as Carmel pushed Baker she flew straight into Stella’s hands, taking the plate out and falling to the floor.
CRASH!
“What is going on in there?” Millie appeared suddenly at the doorway. “Baker what on earth are you doing?”
Baker looked at her stained top, drenched in milk. Her lip started to shake. She screamed; “Stella poured her breakfast on me!”
Stella stared; she couldn’t believe she was going to get the blame.
Millie looked at Stella coldly “Is this true?” Her expression read I’m not going to believe you.
Stella shook her head. Baker got up and shook herself down. “Look at my top mummy, it’s ruined.”
Millie grabbed Stella and forced her into the wall. “Do you know how much this cost me you stupid girl? A lot of money.”
Stella looked at her in the eye. “You mean a lot of my father’s money.” She wanted to say. She didn’t have the guts, so continued to take the barrage of abuse.
Millie; “Well I will ask your father to take the money out your wages. Now, go tidy this place up its disgusting. We have lives to lead.”
Millie turned, ending the conversation yet stopped when she saw the open handbag. She marched over and screamed tipping it of its contents. She turned to the girls who had retreated towards the doorway.
“If I find any chocolate in this household, it is not going to be very nice for that person.” She hissed, staring straight at Stella.
“Yes mummy.” Carmel and Baker chimed.
“Is that clear Stella.” Millie said.
“Yes Millie” Stella said quietly.
Millie smiled, “Run along and be a good girl and get to work Stella. Baker go change your top.”
Baker and Stella left the room. Baker huffed up the stairs while Stella followed watching her movements and feeling anger build with every step.
Why did you do that Baker? Why do you like to get me into trouble? Stella wanted to scream.
Baker turned, “What you looking at freak? I can’t believe you ruined that top, I was going to impress Marcus today and you ruined it.”
Stella recoiled at the venom, “Who is Marcus?” She muttered trying to make conversation.
Baker stopped, either shocked that Stella had spoken or that she could be so stupid. “Well Marcus Charms is the best looking guy in school, not that you would know, and anyway he wouldn’t look twice at you. He would be like everyone else and acknowledge that you don’t exist.”
Baker grabbed a top out the cupboard; she smiled “No offence.” She slammed the door in Stella’s face.
Stella turned round and sighed. Marcus Charms, I think you may be my Prince Charming.
* * *
Stella was tidying the bookshelves as the shop approached closing time. Mrs Goodfair had been in, looking rather concerned asking if everything was ok at home. Stella had shaken it off, but she couldn’t help feel it was like she’d known, because she left straight afterwards without saying goodbye.Her dad appeared “Stella” he said and beckoned her to come down, he gave her a hug,
something he only did when Millie was not about; “I heard what happened. I know it wasn’t you.”
Stella smiled into his shoulder, she missed their closeness. Everything had changed since he married Millie, she couldn’t blame him but she knew she had to break Millie’s spell before she lost him forever.
Stella smiled and said; “Thanks dad.”
Eddie smiled, “You’re my favourite girl, you know that don’t you?”
Stella’s heart warmed, “Yes dad.”
Eddie smiled, yet Stella saw a twinkle appear in his eye as reached into his pocket, “Well as we seem to have a chocolate ban, I think we can risk it.” He lifted two sachets of hot chocolate mixture. “Cream and marshmallows?”
Stella nodded in excitement. Eddie smiled “Our little secret eh? Just hold the fort while I make this.”
Stella sat herself on the counter humming. She picked up the copy of Cinderella on display and flicked through to her favourite part, where Cinderella met the prince. She looked at the illustration; his cloak exposed his macho, lean arms, his face was handsome and bore a smile that rivalled the sun. She read the caption underneath and smiled. “Prince Charming” She was too enthralled to hear the door open.
“Hello?” a warm voice said; Stella looked up and jump falling from the counter backwards, yet the fall never came, a heroic hand saved her. Confused she looked up.
“Are you alright? I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said, she nodded, jumping off the counter and colliding with his chest. She pulled back and took a closer look at his face, smooth and smiling, his grin was perfection as his lips formed a circle of infinite possibilities.
“Hi” she said; “Welcome to Stella Books.” She pulled herself together and smiled.
“Hi.” He replied, “And you are?”
“I’m Stella,” she replied, she raised her eyebrow, your turn.
“I’m Marcus by the way,” He said stepping forward towards her.
She manoeuvred herself out of his grasp; the closeness was creating too much heat. “Were you looking for anything?”
Marcus stared at her curiously “I…” He stared forward, mouth open, Stella followed his gaze, he muttered “Oh no.”
Baker and Carmel came bounded in and chimed together. “Marcus there you are we wondered where you got to!” They restrained themselves from pushing each other but they managed to crowd round Marcus, who became physically uncomfortable.
Marcus “I thought I would come and look at the shop. You talked a little about it and I was just talking to Stella.”
The sister’s eyebrows rose in sync. “Were you?” said Baker, her smile forced; Stella knew she was in for it later. “Well we do love our Stella.” She pulled Stella into a tight hug, but there was no warmth and she let go as quickly pushing Stella to the side.
“Why don’t we give you a tour of the house?” She took Marcus’ arm possessively.
Marcus grimaced, yet the sisters did not notice. “I really have to be going, you know lots of work.”
They pouted and whinged; “Oh Marcus do you really have to go?”
Marcus pulled away; “Sorry ladies, maybe another time.” He looked directly at Stella, their eyes holding, her heart stopped, “I’ll pop by another time.” He said slowly.
He turned and left through the door.
Baker turned on Stella “What did you say to him?” She pushed Stella against the bookshelf.
Stella felt the pain go up her back, “Just hi.”
Baker face flushed with anger; “Well next time, keep your mouth shut.” Baker looked at Carmel.
Carmel mimicked; “Oh, yeah, keep your mouth shut.”
They turned and left as Eddie appeared in the doorway with the hot chocolate.
Baker looked and snapped as she smelt the chocolate; “What’s that?”
Eddie replied “My drink. Now get gone.”
Eddie turned to see Stella had slipped down the bookshelf; he came and sat down next to her. She turned to him and took the drink, they sat in silence. He knew she would put this in her notebook, but what he didn’t know was what damages would happen next.
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