Wistful Wednesday: Beast's Story

It's that day again... Wednesday! I still have 20 Benoni paperback copies to get rid of... if you haven't gotten yours for $5, get it today! See last weeks post for how to do that.


Today, I am going to share with you a bit of backstory from Enchanted Rose. This little snippet of the Beast's story is not found in the book itself... at least not as one whole block of writing. I hope you enjoy reading this bit of the Beast's mind!

***

  I never knew my parents. In my mind is a picture, a snippet, a moment. They left me in death, and my maid raised me. I still don't understand why it had to happen, why they couldn't hold on. Was I not worth it? Was my fate set from a young age?

  I wanted to believe I was like other children, but never could quite bring myself to. Just as I laughed and truly played, their mother, their own precious mother, would come with some bread and cheese while Helga would bring mine. Each experience tainted my view with jealousy, never allowing me to fully move past it.

  To keep from getting to know or making friends with anyone, I started a garden in my twelfth year. I would spend hours there, planting, weeding, watering, watching. I loved to see the plants grow, to change and become something magnificent. The garden became my life, flowers, vegetables, fruits.

  The day I truly became a recluse was my eighteenth birthday, when the first rose bloomed. That was the first ball I refused to attend; a ball in honor of my coronation. I sat in my garden and watched the rose. When it got too dark, I lit a lantern.

    "The guests are gone."

  I didn't turn around, but simply nodded at Geoff. I only stood from my spot long after he had gone.

  I found a power that day. I no longer needed people. I no longer needed conversation or company. Plants became my companions. Eventually my fascination with roses became all-encompassing, even at the expense of my fruits and vegetables; I wanted only roses.

  I planted roses for all seasons, caring for them every day, waiting and watching to see when the buds would form from the thorny bushes. For hours I would coax each flower from its bud into full glory.

  People, I did not need. By my twenty-first year, my kingdom was in revolt, nearing a revolution, and I found I did not care. I no longer held balls or banquets. I never ventured off the castle grounds. I wanted only to be alone with my roses. I left society as my parents had left me; abruptly and without remorse.


*

  Then that night came. The night of the mistake I regretted for years.

  I don't remember why I opened the door, and even still wish I hadn't. Why was I there? I was a prince, how did it so happen that no servants stepped up first? I don't remember how it happened, but it seemed all of a sudden there I stood in the doorway, only me, a bedraggled figure before me.

  An old woman, she was, her hair hidden beneath a tattered cloth, her dress (if it could be called that) covered in dirt and stains, her feet bare, her face weathered. In her hands she held a single item, a rose.

    "Forgive me sire."

  I heard nothing else. She spoke, asked me something... something. What did she want? Forgive me? Forgiveness.

  No-one ever needed to do any more than my parents already had. I gave no-one else the chance to hurt me. Forgive? No. I would not... could not.

    "No, no, whatever it is, no." Then my mind returned, and the conversation I unfortunately remembered.

    "Water, sire? A drink is all I seek."

    "A drink? You shall have no drink from this castle."

    "Life, sire. I...I am so thirsty. I ask only a sip."

    "You shall have no water!" I felt my anger rising, it seemed to be getting easier to just rage. I waited a moment, my body rife with anger. For just a second, she shrank before me, bowed her head to my terrible rage.

  Then she grew, it seemed. She towered above me, her rage far surpassing my own. Her hair... her hair flamed red; fiery, brilliant red. Her clothes, they shone, a light emanating in emerald radiance from her very being. An enchantress.

    "You would deny one even the simplest charity?"

  Her voice thundered, her anger driving me to my knees.

    "I... I didn't... know." I gasped for breath, something pressing down on me, squeezing, squeezing my chest. "Please," a breath barely squeezed by, "pl...anything. I...I will give...any-"

    "No more!" Her voice seemed to shake the very ground. "You are a beast, so you shall become one! Your heart could not be born to hold even the smallest of human kindnesses and so your body will no longer represent one! Even in one hundred years I do not believe you could rid yourself of the darkness in your heart, but even you shall have that chance.

    "Take this rose. A hundred years from this day, the last petal will fall from this rose. If in that time you have not found a lady you can love and who loves you with the deepest love among humankind, you will live the rest of your days and die, a beast."