Five | Lost Princess

The soft glow of the bedside lamp bathed the small room in a gentle light as Abby tucked the blankets snugly around Violet. The younger girl’s frail form seemed even smaller beneath the covers, her eyes heavy with the weariness of the day but still shining with that familiar spark of curiosity.

"Tell me a story, Abby," Violet whispered, her voice tinged with the innocence only children possess. Abby sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing Violet's hair away from her face. Her mind searched for something comforting, something to make her little sister forget, even for a moment, how fragile life had become.

Then she remembered—a story their grandmother used to tell her when she was Violet’s age. “How about the story of the Lost Princess?” she said softly. Violet smiled weakly and nodded.

Abby took a deep breath, her voice steady and warm. "Once, there was a princess loved by everyone in her kingdom. She was as beautiful as she was kind, and her parents adored her. But in the palace, there was a maid, jealous of the princess's beauty and the love she received. One night, in secret, the maid cast a curse on the princess, turning her into a delicate flower with sharp, prickly thorns."

Violet's eyes fluttered open wider, her small hand reaching for Abby's. Abby took it gently in her own and continued, "The maid whispered to the flower, 'Now, no one will love you. No one will dare touch you, for your thorns will wound anyone who comes close. You will be forgotten, hidden in the garden forever.'"

Violet let out a soft sigh as she listened, her breath slowing as sleep beckoned. Abby’s voice lowered to a whisper, wrapping the story around them both like a protective blanket.

"Years passed, and no one dared go near the flower. But one day, a hunter found the garden deep in the woods. He saw the flower, thorny and alone, and something about it called to him. Every day, the hunter came back to the garden, carefully tending to the flower, even though its thorns left his hands covered in cuts."

Violet’s fingers tightened around Abby's as she listened, caught up in the magic of the story.

"But the witch, the one who cursed the princess, was angry. She tricked the hunter, telling him that the flower could heal his sick mother if only he cut it down. Desperate, the hunter returned to the garden with his knife. But when he stood before the flower, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to destroy the one thing he'd cared for so deeply."

Abby paused, her throat tightening as she approached the story's end. "The witch was furious and struck the hunter down in her rage. As he lay dying next to the flower, he heard a voice. It was the princess. She told him that she was grateful for his kindness, for never giving up on her despite her thorns. And in her final act of love, she withered away, using her last bit of magic to save the hunter's life."

Violet’s eyelids drooped as Abby’s words faded into the stillness of the room. "The flower may have died, but its love lived on in the hunter’s heart," Abby finished, her voice barely above a whisper.

Violet stirred, her voice small but certain. "It must be nice... to have someone take care of you like that," she murmured. "You take care of me, Abby, but... who takes care of you?"

Abby’s heart ached at the question, her chest tightening. She forced a soft smile, brushing a strand of hair from Violet’s forehead. "Don’t worry about me, Vi. All that matters is you are getting better."

Violet shook her head weakly, her eyes half-closed. "I wish... on my birthday, that you’ll find your own hunter. Someone to take care of you and make you happy."

Abby swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that pricked at her eyes. She kissed Violet's forehead and whispered, "Go to sleep, little one. No more of that."

Violet nodded, " Good night, Abby.. " the little girl said as her breathing evening out as she drifted into sleep, leaving Abby alone with the weight of her sister's words.

" Good night... Vi. "

Abby quietly left the room, her heart heavy with a sorrow she had grown accustomed to bearing alone. She sat down on the worn-out sofa, staring blankly at the wall. Her mind spiraled in exhaustion and despair, replaying Violet’s wish over and over. A hunter for her? She scoffed at the thought. There was no one left to take care of her. That wasn’t how life worked.

Just as she wiped away a stray tear, a noise outside startled her. The faint sound of fluttering, like wings brushing against the window. Abby sat up, peering into the darkness beyond the curtains. She swore she saw something—a shadow or a figure—but when she looked again, there was nothing. Just the empty street, quiet under the moonlight.

"I'm probably just tired, Get yourself together Abby." she muttered, shaking her head. But as she stood to close the window, the creak of the front door sent her heart racing.

Her breath caught in her throat. Was it a burglar? Someone had broken in?

With trembling hands, she grabbed the nearest object—a vase from the table—and crept toward the door.

"Why do you look like you've seen a ghost? Is everything okay? " came a familiar voice.

Abby sighed in relief, lowering the vase as her neighbor, Lucile, stepped through the doorway.

Abby nodded, suddenly feeling foolish.  " sorry... I just—thought I heard something."

The old woman smiled, her eyes twinkling with warmth. "Is she already asleep? I'm sorry, I couldn't come sooner,  I had to close the bakery late today.."

Abby can only nod her head,

Lucile patted her on the shoulder, her expression softening. "You're doing a lot, Abby, you look unwell. You can go now and meet with your friends, I'll take it from here. "

Abby forced a smile, but inside, her heart felt heavier than ever. " Thanks, Aunt Lucile. You do so much for us. "

Lucile seemed to sense it, and with a knowing glance, she added, "It's the least I can do. Just hurry home, I'm make your favorite chicken curry. "

Abby beamed from the mention of chicken curry. They seldomly enjoy home cooked and warm meals.

Lucile immediately caught Abby's reaction, and lets out a chuckle. Abby may have been carrying the weight of her burdens in her back. But --- She was still a child too.

" I won't be long, Auntie! " Abby chirped, as she took her phone and keys from the kitchen table, in haste, then headed towards the door , before she shuts the door, Abby peeked in again.

" Auntie...there's still some cake and ice cream  on the fridge, Have some. Okay?  " Abby said, with a smile, before shutting the door behind her.

Lucile could only smile, Abby was always someone who seemed to care for everyone, even to mere strangers. It is certainly heart breaking to see her carry all of that weight, all on her own.

" Pour Sweet Child " Lucile mumbled against her breath, as she headed towards Violet's room to check on the child.

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