The Fairy Tale
Once upon a time, there was a little girl who tried very hard to be good.
But there was a darkness inside her, a wilding, and no matter what, she ended up in trouble.
She skinned her knees and tattled on her sister.
She stole candy from the dollar store. She pulled the cat’s tail and got a deep, angry scratch down her arm in return.
It festered, and she had to go to the doctor for medicine.
The shots hurt, and that made her even naughtier.
The little girl’s sister was a carbon copy in looks, but in personality, they could not have been more different. They shared a womb, and a crib, clothes and hairstyles, but they grew apart like roses forced to share a too-small pot, each leaning to the side to catch a glimpse of the sun.
The naughty sister wanted too much. She wanted the world. To travel, to play, to stay up past her bedtime. To be wild. To have fun. To live.
The good sister wanted nothing more than to stay close to home, where it was safe. She was afraid of the world. Afraid of her own shadow. Afraid of everything.
As they grew older, they became even more divergent.
One was studious, while the other never did her homework.
One stayed home on the weekends, while the other went to every party.
And, at those parties, began to do things the good sister would be shocked to hear about later.
There were boys (ick) and drugs (bigger ick) and sex (the absolute worst).
The naughty sister came home late, after curfew, weekend after weekend, with tales that made the good sister blush.
She was embarrassed. Those were the words she used, exactly.
“You’re embarrassing me. You’re embarrassing yourself. Why can’t you just be good?”
So the naughty sister decided it was high time to leave the good sister behind.
She grew wings and flew away.
And soon enough, the good sister got lonely. The house was too quiet with only her in it. The naughty sister was vivacious and brash. She was alive. She was missed.
And the good sister started to wonder . . . maybe the naughty things her sister had done were not so bad after all. Perhaps she was just trying to have some fun.
So she looked for the bad sister everywhere but could not find her.
She was lost.
The naughty sister was lost.