Modern Fairy Tales Ch. 01

Story Info
Rapunzel: The tale of a girl locked in a room.
10.1k words
4.28
42.9k
25
13

Part 1 of the 1 part series

Updated 04/23/2018
Created 03/04/2008
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rachlou
rachlou
557 Followers

All characters in the following story are aged 18 or over.

* * *

Once upon a time... there stood a row of run down houses in a quiet street; one of many identical streets in poor neighbourhoods around the sprawling northern city. It was a desolate place, populated with crumbling buildings that were blackened and stained from decades of industrial pollution.

The nearby factories spewed out continuous clouds of noxious fumes, tainting the sky a sickly shade of yellowy grey. A few lone trees struggled to survive in the urban wasteland, their branches stunted and distorted into strange shapes that cast macabre shadows beneath the eerie glow of street lamps. Pale, anaemic leaves unfurled in springtime, reaching upwards, seeking the pallid sunlight. When autumn came with its chill winds, the leaves fell, one by one, and joined the detritus that collected along gutters and dead end alleys.

Despite the grimness, Jakob saw only beauty as he travelled around his neighbourhood every day. He noticed the shy buttercup that dared to bloom in a patch of grass beside the Halal shop. The colourful sari's that adorned the window display on the high street always made him smile when he cycled past on his delivery route.

Mr Lozynsky's fruit and vegetable trays were another source of ascetic delight. The velvety skinned peaches and sharp green limes, prickly paw paws and succulent strawberries sat in their display baskets as sunlight struggled to find a way in through the grimy shop window. A few slanted beams of pale yellow illuminated the dusty shelves of tins and assorted packets of food, as the old man sat reading his morning paper.

He squinted at the text on the page in an effort to read the tiny print. His reading glasses were somewhere in the back room, but he was unwilling to go and hunt for them in case one of the neighbourhood kids came in and stole his cigarettes. He looked up briefly when Jakob walked through the open door with his empty fruit trays. "Another delivery needs sorting," the old man said gruffly, chewing on a pencil.

Jakob hid a smile and nodded. He knew Mr Lozynsky too well to be intimidated by his crankiness. The old man had allowed him to help out in the shop ever since he was tall enough to reach the counter. The pay had never really been worth the effort, but Jakob had a huge amount of respect for his mentor and friend.

The rear yard was full of trays of fruit that had been abandoned haphazardly by the delivery guy. Jakob sighed when he saw the mess. There were several loose apples on the ground and some of the peaches already had bruises on their delicate skin. It made Jakob angry to see the way these new drivers took no care when they made their deliveries, but there was nothing he could do. Mr Lozynsky was too crippled with arthritis to go out and supervise, so he left them to get on with it.

Reaching down, Jakob picked up a stray peach and examined it carefully. The soft skin felt like velvet beneath his fingertips. It smelt ripe; over ripe really, but at the least the flesh was likely to be juicy and succulent. It would be perfect for eating later when he had a break before college.

Quickly he gathered up the errant apples and began shifting the cases out of the sun and into the storeroom. He shoved a crisp green apple in his pocket and left the bruised peaches on the table, intending to pick them up on his way home.

Tonight was life-drawing class and he was hoping the girl who had posed last week would be back. Normally the models were decrepit elderly men whose skins were vast canvases of wrinkles and lines. They sat on the gilt chair and looked bored for half an hour while diligent students drew sketches of their bony bodies. It was good practice, but hardly inspirational.

Jakob was usually happy to draw anything, but last weeks model – an attractive red head - had certainly been an interesting distraction. Her curly auburn hair had flowed down her back in rich coils of fiery magenta. For at least twenty minutes, Jakob had barely been able to sketch a thing. He had held the stick of charcoal so tightly that it had snapped several times before he managed to draw a wavering line on the sheet of crisp white paper.

The girl's nipples had fascinated him. In his mind they resembled two small raspberries; delicate, succulent fruits resting on top of the pale globes of her small breasts. That night he had dreamed about those fruits, imagining how they might feel against his hungry lips. Unsurprisingly he overslept the following morning and Mr Lozynsky had snapped his head off.

"What am I paying you for, huh? To sleep in like a lazy dog?"

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again," Jakob apologised, his eyes cast to the floor in a gesture of conciliation. Mrs Lozynsky stood in the kitchen holding a dishcloth and she winked at him. They both knew Stefan Lozynsky's bark was infinitely worse than his bite.

To his immense disappointment, this week's model turned out to be a middle-aged woman. Her sagging breasts and flabby thighs did nothing to excite Jakob's imagination, so he cast his fantasies to one side and concentrated on his sketches. By the time the class drew to a close, he was actually rather pleased with his work. He left college and headed home with a smile on his face.

A black cat silently watched as Jakob walked slowly past. He paused briefly to stroke its mangy fur and the cat purred loudly in appreciation. Then he continued towards the end of his street and glanced down the hill in the direction of Mr Lozynzsky's shop. A light still glowed in the upstairs window and Jakob smiled. The old man was probably still watching his television. As much as he claimed to detest modern luxuries like television, Jakob knew very well that the old man was fatally addicted to soaps and quiz shows.

The faint sound of singing floated by on the cool night breeze and for a second Jakob was caught by the beauty of the feminine voice he heard and he looked around, trying to work out where the song was coming from.

There were various windows with lights still on, but he knew most of the people who lived in the houses, and none of them had voices like angels. He was just about to continue up the hill when he heard it again. Soft notes seduced him like a siren song and the skin on the back of his neck prickled as he listened, utterly enraptured by the voice.

The sound appeared to be emanating from a house near the Chinese Dry Cleaners. Jakob racked his brains and tried to remember who lived there. He seemed to recall seeing an elderly lady of a somewhat nasty disposition entering the house at least once fairly recently, but beyond that, nothing. Deciding to investigate the enigma, he hurried towards the house.

Once outside, he heard nothing at all beyond the faint sound of a television. For a while he stood still, his ears straining to hear anything out of the ordinary, but there was no more singing. He was just about to give up and head home, when he heard the voice again.

It was hypnotic. Each melodious note sent shivers though his body as the sheer beauty of the voice reached deep into his soul. Whoever she was sounded so unbelievably sad, Jakob could almost feel tears pricking his eyes. He stared up at the dark windows of the house, but there was no clue as to where the voice was originating.

Deciding to take a risk, he dropped his bag and portfolio behind a large wheelie bin and stealthily opened the side gate beside the house. Once away from the glow of the street lamp, the yard he found himself in was very dark. His foot caught on something and there was a loud clatter of a rubbish bin being upended and he froze. But nobody came running, and he relaxed once more.

Peering up intently, he saw a faint glow of light in the highest attic window. A figure appeared behind the cloudy glass and as he watched, he saw a young woman open the window and lean out, apparently searching for the source of the noise.

Jakob was mesmerised.

Her long golden hair hung down as she stood, framed in the muted light radiating out from behind her. Jakob pressed his body back against the wall, hoping she wouldn't be able to see him. She scanned the yard for a while, humming another sad tune, until eventually something made her jump back hurriedly and shut the window. The light was extinguished and everything went dark.

For a while Jakob stayed put, hoping for another glimpse of the mysterious girl, but his patience was in vain. She didn't reappear and eventually he gave up and let himself out of the small yard. His portfolio was still where he had left it, and, with a sigh, he picked it up and walked home, still lost in dreamy thoughts about the golden haired girl.

* * *

Rapunzel switched the lamp off and dived on to the lumpy bed. If the old witch ever caught her leaning out of the window, there would be hell to pay. It was fortunate she was as deaf as a post, or she would have heard Rapunzel singing by now. As it was, she could barely hear the television even when it was turned up to full volume, so the girl knew she was safe in that regard.

Being safe in any other regard was debateable. She still had no real idea how long they were planning on locking her up in this attic. Snippets of overheard conversation between her Uncles suggested that their visas weren't in order yet, but other than that, Rapunzel had no way of knowing. All she did know was that they were planning on taking her far, far away.

She buried her face in the musty pillow and wished for the millionth time that somebody would come to her rescue. But it was no use - nobody on the outside knew she was here. Sometimes the sheer hopelessness of her fate almost provoked her to end it all; it would be so easy to leap from the window and fall to her death. But the fear that she might fail and end up paralysed, was enough to stop her. So she bided her time and sang songs to alleviate the enduring loneliness.

Whilst her window didn't look directly out on to the street, she still had a good view of the back yard and all the adjoining yards. When the witch was home, Rapunzel didn't dare open the window, but when the witch left the house, the girl spent all her time watching the stray cats fight and court each other. There was a scrawny black one that appeared to be king of the immediate territory, for it won every single conflict.

Every day she threw scraps of stale bread to the birds that roosted in the eaves of the houses. The sparrows were frequent visitors on the railing across the window. Every morning they chirruped noisily outside, eagerly waiting for her to throw crumbs for them. It made Rapunzel smile to see such bickering amongst her only friends.

She didn't have the inclination to smile now, though. It was all she could do not to cry as she lay on the hard mattress, listening to the sound of the television floating up from the room far below. She pulled the sheet across her slim body and shut her eyes. At least when she was asleep, nobody could hurt her.

* * *

"Who lives in number forty-six?" asked Jakob nonchalantly as he sorted the pile of newspapers.

Mr Lozynsky screwed his leathery face up and looked thoughtful for a moment. "No idea," he said eventually, scratching his shiny head absently. "Who knows anybody these days. The world isn't like it was when I was a lad..."

The old man drifted off on an endless diatribe and Jakob immediately stopped listening. He allowed his thoughts to drift back to the memory of the golden haired girl. Curiosity had eaten away at him for the last two days. Tonight Jakob intended to go back and see if he could catch another glimpse of her.

* * *

It was late by the time Jakob left his friend's house. Walking back through the familiar streets, his pace quickened at the thought of seeing her again. Once he reached the gate of her house, he waited, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. It wasn't easy; most people seen loitering around these parts were up to no good, and he had no great desire to be arrested.

Deciding that nobody was around, he carefully opened the latch on the gate and crept back into the yard, being careful this time not to dislodge any bins. The light was on in the attic window, but there was neither sight nor sound of the girl. All he could hear was the faint sound of music somewhere nearby.

Just as he was about to leave, he heard the rasp of the window opening and he looked up, his stomach churning with excitement. To his delight, the girl with the golden hair stood in the circle of light, gazing out across the yard. Something brushed against his leg in the gloom and he yelped in surprise. The black cat he had often noticed hanging around, jumped up on to the wall beside him and meowed loudly.

"Who's there?" A melodious feminine voice floated down and Jakob hesitated. Should he give himself away and respond? He decided to take a chance and stepped out into the centre of the yard where some illumination fell.

"Who are you?" he called softly.

The girl jumped in surprise when she saw him. For a moment she looked almost elated, but then her face dropped and she shook her head sadly. "You should go – if they catch you they'll hurt you," she said.

"Who will hurt me?" asked Jakob in bemusement.

"Just go," she urged.

"Please tell me your name!" implored Jakob.

"Rapunzel." With that, the girl shut the window abruptly and the light went out.

Once again Jakob was left in the dark in more ways than one.

* * *

Rapunzel was shaking when the witch, Gotha, entered the room with a tray of food in her gnarled hands. "Eat, girl," she rasped. "You're no good to us looking like a skeleton."

"I'm not hungry," the girl said sullenly. She turned her back and stared at the wall.

"Suit yourself," the witch muttered, before hobbling back out of the room and locking the door behind her.

The girl heaved a sigh of relief when she was left alone again. Even solitude was better than being in the same room as Gotha. The old witch scared her witless. Despite her decrepit appearance, she was nobodies fool. Not even the Uncles dared to cross her – she'd heard them receive the sharp end of Gotha's tongue several times already.

Moonlight shone in through the window as Rapunzel lay on her bed. Her thoughts kept returning to the boy in the yard. Who was he and maybe he could help her? Then she remembered the Uncles and Gotha. The fear of what might happen to the boy made her feel sick and she knew she couldn't allow someone else to be sucked into her nightmare world.

But still, it was nice to talk to someone other than the birds. It felt like forever since she'd been taken away from her home and friends.

Will I ever see any of them again? Probably not if the Uncles and Gotha have their way. I am far too valuable to them. I'm just a commodity – something to be sold.

* * *

Jakob found his thoughts drifting back to the girl at every opportunity. It was if she had cast a spell on him and now he was bewitched. Every chance he got he wandered past the house, hoping for some insight into why such a beautiful girl was shut in an attic room.

A couple of times he saw an old crone entering the house. She looked too frail to be threatening, but the two men who turned up one evening were a different matter. They definitely looked threatening and Jakob couldn't help but wonder what on earth was going on in the house.

He tried to broach the subject with Mr Lozynsky, but the old man wasn't interested. "You keep your nose out of what doesn't concern you," he warned. "I don't pay you good money to go poking about in other people's private business."

It was on the tip of his tongue to remind Mr Lozynsky that he didn't pay him much at all, but Jakob thought better of it. There was no sense in riling the old man up. So he got on with his work and tried not to think about the girl.

Two nights later he was back in the yard, staring up at her window like an idiot. He could see a light on, but she didn't appear. Eventually frustration took hold and Jakob decided to try and attract her attention. He dropped to his knees in the dark and felt around in the dirt for a small pebble. Once he had found one, he took aim and threw it.

Fortunately he was a good shot and the pebble was right on target. It clattered against the glass and fell back to the ground. Immediately Jakob jumped away, towards the gate, prepared to make a swift exit in the event that his plan went horribly wrong. But to his delight, the girl appeared at the window and carefully opened it.

She peered out into the yard with her long hair hanging down like rope. Jakob stepped out of his hiding place and called up to her in a low voice,

"Hey! Rapunzel!"

"What are you doing?" she said softly. "I thought I told you to stay away!"

"I wanted to see you again," he replied, grinning like an idiot.

She giggled lightly, her voice flowing like water across pebbles in a stream. "You're crazy," she said eventually. "If Gotha catches you, there'll be trouble." Her face grew serious again.

Jakob became frustrated. Talking like this was no good – she was too far away. He quickly scanned the side of the house. There was a drainpipe that led up the wall, right past her window. It looked fairly strong, but he wouldn't know if it could hold his weight until he tried it.

"Is there anyone in?" he asked hurriedly.

"No, Gotha is out. She goes places some evenings – I don't know where." She shrugged.

Jakob decided to take a chance. He reached up and grasped hold of the metal pipe; it felt secure enough, so using the joints placed at frequent intervals, he began to climb up. Rapunzel watched him from high above, her face fearful as he ascended towards her window.

Eventually he reached the railing across the sill and pulled himself over and into her room. They stared at each other nervously. Now that he was actually close to her, Jakob found himself completely lost for words. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life.

Her hair hung in long skeins of spun gold, curling down past her waist. She was tiny; barely up to his shoulder, and her skin was delicate shade of porcelain white. He was almost afraid to be in her presence because she was so fragile; he felt like she might snap in two.

"What's your name?" she asked in a soft voice.

"Jakob," he replied dreamily, still hopelessly transfixed by her beauty.

She smiled sweetly and walked across the room. The thin cotton shift she wore was virtually transparent and her slim body was more than visible through the gauzy material. Jakob swallowed hard. He tried not to stare at her breasts, but it was impossible. In an attempt to control his inevitable reaction, he quickly glanced around the sparse space, taking in how bare it was.

"Why are you stuck in here?" he asked in bemusement.

"My father did something bad and they took me to pay his debt." Rapunzel bit her lip and stared at the floor.

"What did he do?" Jakob was struggling to understand how anyone could imprison a young woman without consequences.

"He stole from Gotha and she took me from him as a punishment. My Uncles are on her side – they are planning to send me away."

"Where to?"

"I don't know." Rapunzel began to cry silently. She had tried to be strong, but faced with this boy's sympathy, the carefully erected wall that held her emotions in check, crumbled.

Jakob went to her. The pain evident on her face was more than he could bear. He sat beside her on the bed and clumsily placed an arm across her shoulders, feeling the trembling of her body.

After a moment, he felt her relax and lean against him, her face buried in the curve of his neck. Jakob tried to imagine how it must feel being trapped in this grim room, but he couldn't. It was so far beyond his comprehending, he couldn't even begin to understand what she must be going through.

rachlou
rachlou
557 Followers