The Bells Of Midnight
If you have seen 'Cinderella' or read any stories related to the subject this tale might strike your fancy! Also inspired by Gail Carson Levine's Ella Enchanted and many other elements from various works of literature. A jumble of humor, romance and adventure! If you have read the beginning I would be very pleased if you could owl me and tell me what you think. Criticism is highly encouraged! I need to hear it!
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
6
Reads
726
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
My mother was the only person I had ever loved. Love. The word seems
strange to
me now. It’s something that’s been both present and missing my whole life. Now
it is gone and I need to find a way to gain it again. In the past month, with
its absence I have become afraid of it. Out of the hundreds of times I asked
her the answer was always the same, “Rhea, I loved you long before you were
born, the curse came after.” This annoyed me and I tried to ignore her. I never
could though, I loved my mother.
She was
right, the curse did come after, for seventeen years it had stuck me with and
was still going strong. It was the gift of obedience but in my eye and it had
always been a curse. Gifts are things you receive and can throw or give away. I
wasn’t sure if I had received my curse or been given it. The day I realized
something was wrong with me was my first day of first grade. By the end of the
day I had found a friend. Her name was Isabella and she had been profoundly
teased last year for bringing her teddy bear to every day of kindergarten. That
habit had been lost but the teasing continued. And now that we appeared to be
friends I fell subject to the taunting. After the school day was over a gaggle
of boys started following me as I walked home. When I had had enough of their
tip toeing and sniggering I turned around and marched up to them. Of course being
only 6 I had no idea what I was going to say. So without using my words I
punched the closest one in the face. The boy I had hit was Bertie Bunnser and
because he was Bertie Bunnser he hit me back. I had only went over there for
the one hit but Bertie had never had a girl punch him in the face so he was
intent on winning the fight he was about to generate. The other boys had formed
a circle around us and started chanting for me to take him down. This is my
first memory of receiving a direct order and it is one my worst. My mind
blanked and all of a sudden I had pinned Bertie down underneath me. I was frightened
and confused and I ran home crying because I didn’t understand what had happened
to me.
My
mother did though; apparently my grandmother had had the same curse so she knew
how to make me understand. There are three stages to a phase of my curse:
number one is the order that the person issues. This has to be direct or it
won’t count. Such as Rhea, put on your shawl will work but a request like: Rhea,
could you put your shawl on? Will not work. Stages two and three overlap each
other because both happen at the same time. Stage two is the blackout that I
experience while I am following the order. My mind is shielded from my actions
and all I see is darkness. Stage three is fulfilling the order. During this
time my movements are rather structured.
I continuously asked mother what could free me from the curse. She said
that I had to fall in love with someone to be freed. I asked why I even had it,
because I loved her. She always had a good answer for that question.
I
couldn’t love my father. I felt it impossible for he had never loved my mother.
Money was the only thing he cared for, lived for even. That was the only reason
he married Hannah Lansdowne. Before her he was just a poor, desolate man. She
fell in love with him by chance and they had me. I often wondered that if I was
the product of true love this curse never would have befallen me. But I wonder
a lot of things.
She’s
gone now. A month ago it happened. Just an accident like all others. Wrong
place, wrong time. But it feels different to me, like an invisible super being
knows of my misfortune and decided that my mother was the only one holding me
back, stopping me from finding love in anyone else. Whoever they were, I hated
them even if it was true. If they didn’t exist, just a figure result of my
imagination, then I figured I was hating myself. Ha. This was how I coped with
pain.
During
their marriage of 17 years (my age exactly) both of my parents were perfectly
happy. My mother had found someone to love and through them another. My father
was now rich and lived a comfortable, easy life. It was the same for me too,
until around the time of my fifteenth birthday I discovered that my father had fallen
into his old habit of gambling. When I was old enough to understand, my mother
told me that before my birth when she didn’t know him yet, father had lost all
his money through gambling. To learn that he had been gambling again made me
despise him more than I thought possible. For two years he continued this under
the nose of mother who was too innocent and loving to believe he would ever
resort to it again.
After
my mother’s death his habits became extensive. Father was never one to have
much luck and it certainly didn’t choose to be present now. We began losing
money and I couldn’t save us because he wouldn’t let me get a job. I was
required to cook and clean whatever was left in our home. Nothing was working
for him and he got desperate. The decision that the only way to save himself he
had to remarry was the decision that ruined my life.