The Scrivener’s Forge Exercise 10 challenges us to re-write a well known fairy tale from the point of view of the bad guy.
What follows is Rapunzel’s tale from the point of view of the witch Dame Gothel….
I run the long golden strands through my hands, soft like silk, thick like rope, recalling all the years I spent grooming them. The many hours spent oiling, massaging, combing, and braiding, the fierce pride that I felt to behold my Rapunzel with her long golden hair.
When I first held that golden haloed cherub in my arms, and those little lips quivered and tears as big as pearls lined the edges of her baby blue eyes, that was the moment that I fell in love with her, and as I held her against my bosom, I knew that it was preordained. Rapunzel was mine.
Ensuring her happiness became my mission. All her wishes were fulfilled. I taught her to read, write, sew, play the piano. She was everything I had hoped for. Loving, smart, joyous. She filled my life with song and laughter. Oh, what a divine voice she had. When she sang, the birds and angels came by to hear.
She was barely five when she got those god-awful chicken-pox. Every scream of hers cut through my heart like a whip. It did not matter how many days and nights I had to stay beside her, I realised I could never ever loose her. Her end meant my end.
When she crossed the threshold into adulthood, I knew that she was mine to protect. What does she know of this cruel world. What does she know of the base needs of man. One glimpse of her beauty and any man would ravage her. I was not going to allow her innocence to be plundered.
I told her that. I explained to her that she needed to remain in the tower for her own good. The world was not a safe place.
But what does she do. She lets down her hair and offers herself up to the first male who comes along. I should have known. All those years of grooming could not erase her lowly birth.
At the end of it all she turned out to be as devious as her thieving father.
I cut off her hair with my own hands.
She thinks I’m a cruel wicked witch. Let her. The foolish girl does not see how my heart aches. She does not hear my silent wails of betrayal.
I shall wait for him tonight. The plunderer who stole my Rapunzel from me. My knife will steal his life before he can steal her purity.