A Princess
A Princess child stories
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ari_mccheese
ari_mccheeseI like cheese, writing, and taking naps.
Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago
On February 17th, 2018, I went to the tailor. Presented in the view of my little sister.

A Princess

Today, I went to the tailor.

Along side me was my older sister and aging father.

I did not quite understand why the girl I looked up to so passionately looked so solemn.

I did not quite understand why the girl I looked up to so passionately looked so solemn. Neither did my insufficient intellect comprehend why my father respired whenever he gazed upon old photos.

My mind hummed with the nostalgia of my childhood as it searched for answers.

I remember my father walking me to slumber parties in a frilly fuchsia tutu and a cheap molded crown that resembled diamonds in my minuscule palms.

I often think of when I would compel my older sister to wear a scratchy, gaudy boa and elegant makeup so she could partake in my exclusive imperial tea festivities.

I reminiscence gossiping with her about elementary level scandals, and the absolute incredulity of listening to the piquant whisper of life after sixth grade.

I recall my father, who taught me how to be a ferocious sovereign to guard my acropolis of wealth from rapacious fiends.

I remember my sister, who challenged my bullies for me because she was my knight and I was her princess.

I remember my sister, who challenged my bullies for me because she was my knight and I was her princess. I remember when my father bowed to me whenever he gave me food.

I remember my sister, who challenged my bullies for me because she was my knight and I was her princess. I remember when my father bowed to me whenever he gave me food. I remember when it started changing.

I remember when my father started becoming more stressed, when he started staying at work longer.

I remember when my sister started kicking me out of her room, blackmailing me with past aberrations for her own gain.

I remember trying to drown out my father yelling at my sister.

I remember trying to ignore her lamentation on the other side of the bedroom wall.

I remember waking up in the middle of the night to hear her on the phone with another, whimpering intensely with gentle cooing from her phone speaker.

I remember seeing her in the morning with dry red eyes and somber bags under her eyes.

I remember this unnerving darkness plaguing my house for years.

I remember not being a princess anymore.

I remember realizing I idolized a miserable girl who forgot her reason to live.

I remember realizing I idolized a miserable girl who forgot her reason to live. I remember wondering if she ever felt like me when she was my age.

I remember realizing I idolized a miserable girl who forgot her reason to live. I remember wondering if she ever felt like me when she was my age. I remember worrying that she's been a knight for too long.

However, as the years passed by and I no longer needed a stool to stand on to reach the sink, I look back and realize how much better it's become.

My sister started helping me with my homework again.

My father takes me to his work all the time and gets me ice cream after.

My sister now parades me around the room whenever her friends visit, calling me a sight to behold.

My sister now parades me around the room whenever her friends visit, calling me a sight to behold. I instead called her the real princess and hugged her.

Awes and laughter they mouthed, but it could not hide that I saw her smile falter, and I felt her shivers and tense muscles.

She daydreams a lot now, using me as an audience to all the schemes overflowing inside.

She smiles a lot, dances spontaneously in the middle of the room, and cooks me dinner everyday just because she thinks it's fun.

I began to think that maybe she was the real princess: the graceful gestures of her limbs, her undeniable empathy, her voice towering over her offenders,

and the beauty of her face when no one looked.

and the beauty of her face when no one looked. Yes, I believe now.

As my sister stepped off the tailor's closet dressed in a sweeping charcoal dress adorned in delicate gold designs, as she slipped on opulent golden heels on her eager feet,

as she strode onto the podium and looked astonished at her own comeliness,

I knew.

I knew why she bit her lip and looked so apprehensive on the way here.

I knew why she bit her lip and looked so apprehensive on the way here. I knew why my father sighed looking at old family photos.

I knew why she bit her lip and looked so apprehensive on the way here. I knew why my father sighed looking at old family photos. I knew why I always felt off when I worshiped her so.

I knew she could never be a princess.

She was already a queen.

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