Six Years Later
Once upon a time, not so long ago, a boy’s world was turned upside down when he fell in love with his best friend. The boy was ensnared by his friend’s beauty and entranced by the purity of his soul. He knew that one day, he would make the other boy his own.
They had everything their hearts desired. They lived in a big castle, with bountiful food and a loving family. Or so they thought.
Little did our hero know that one day his evil father would want nothing more than to tear them apart.
The poor boy watched as his best friend was violated, captured and beaten by the wicked villain disguised as a king. The boy despaired as his love was ripped from his arms and locked in a dungeon so tight, he feared he would never see him again.
Or so the fairytale’s supposed to go, right? Except this is the twenty-first century, and the boys weren’t ones to go down without a fight. Villains are real, but damsels can bite back.
This wasn’t a story about how good triumphs over evil. This was our story, the story of Hansel and Gretel, two boys from very different worlds who were thrown together and told to make a home.
And, against all odds, we fell in love anyway.
Madly.
Desperately.
Irrevocably.
Now, as I watch my husband stretch in the studio I had built onto our new home, a dog by my side and a whisky in my hand, I can’t help but think that we’ve built ourselves a charmed life. A privileged life. We faced the villain, and we won. The prize? Our own little fairytale.
And the moral of the story? I could say something along the lines of beware of strangers who promise the world…
But really, it all boils down to this. When someone fucks you over, you fuck back twice as hard.
You take everything they hold dear and then some.
You take and take until there’s nothing left, and they curse the day you were born.
Or, as my husband would say…
Fuck around and find out, bitches.
Gretel and Gretel won.
And they lived happily ever after.
The End