What do you think?
Rate this book
322 pages, Paperback
First published October 26, 2013
Should I go to Henry's parents? Or to my home? Where would I find help? Even as I asked myself, I knew the truth. There was no help to be found. I was on my own. After all, who could help against forces such as these?
I am nearly 268-years-old and very much alive. However, I don't appear to be older than an eighteen-year-old girl. I've been cursed.
Well, I never! Never in my life have I experienced such a rude man. He’s laughing at my old age? It’s a joke to him to perceive me as feeble and elderly? That Mr. Jenkins possessed quite a sick sense of humour.
One might call it a perfect day, but perfect was a stretch in my vocabulary. Regarding anything.
But as always, there were no promising developments. I was still perfect.
I’d always been envious of how she could blend in with a crowd of people and easily be forgotten. While I, on the other hand, couldn’t risk going to town as often as she did because I had an unforgettable face. Gretta said both women and men would always remember a beautiful face. The women were envious, and the men desired me, but an old woman would go unnoticed.
“Rapunzel, you're beautiful and unforgettable. I'll never forget you, that's for sure.”
What did that even mean? I still have trouble understanding slang. Whatever.
I stood and dusted my hands on my dungarees. Oh, wait. They didn’t call them that anymore. My jeans. “Jeans.” I tried the word out to see how it felt. Strange, it felt like most trendy words were just slurred speech. They changed so fast I could barely keep up—another reason I avoided townspeople.
Geez, dude.
Girlfriends these days spent time shopping at the mall or getting fancy, frothy coffee drinks and chatting for hours.
I did miss her, but rumours had started to spread through town that she was a witch—though I didn’t believe them.
“I'm not your child.” I might be forced to live with her and call her by name, but I didn’t have to befriend her. I narrowed my eyes to a glare. “Do not speak to me. Ever.”
Edwin raised his rifle and pointed it at Gretta. I squealed.