GRIMM

Chapter One

Mama used to tell me stories; Fairy tales, folklore, things like that. She would lie down next to me in my miniature bed, pull out the dictionary-sized storybook from the top shelf, and read whatever story I wanted to hear. Sometimes my sisters, Ellana, Isabelle, Emalia, Irene and Marissa, would climb up onto the bed with Mama and I, and listen.

Our mothers’ melodic voice always made us seem as if we were right there, experiencing the stories for ourselves, but we knew that was impossible.

But all that was before the accident.

When I was eight, Mama got into a horrible accident, and eventually went into a coma. At first I was convinced she was Sleeping Beauty and that Papa just needed to kiss her to wake her up. He tried, and when he failed I assumed that he wasn't her true love, which made him very angry with not only me, but with all of my sisters too.

“These stories are filling your heads with lies!” He cried, snatching the precious book from my hands. “We'll have no more of that in this household! It's time you started behaving like ladies!” He turned to Marissa, the eldest. “Especially you!”

Irene, the youngest, scrunched up her nose at the word ladies and I just frowned. “But Papa.” Marissa pushed her auburn waves over one shoulder, put her hands on her hips and looked up at him under her lashes; it was a look she used only when she was angry. “That's the last thing we have of Mama's!” She stated.

“It's not fair to just take it!” Ellana blurted out.

“Yeah! Not fair!” her twin, Emalia retorted.

He tapped his foot on the carpeted floor roughly, making the board underneath squeak.

“Father, please, it's our favorite book.” Isabelle was the only one really trying to reason with Papa. We all knew Isabelle could win him over with ease, but Irene is the one who really got to him.

She walked over; hugging her favorite stuffed bear close to her heart, and tugged lightly on his pant leg to get his attention. Then, with her big turquoise eyes looking into his, she said, “Papa, I just want to hear more stories.”

He looked down at us, making eye contact with each of us in turn, and sighed. “Oh alright.” I yanked the book from his hands and ducked for cover behind Marissa and Isabelle who willingly became my shield.

Then our mother disappeared, and it was as if she had never been alive at all, besides the memories we had of her. As if our mothers’ disappearance wasn’t enough, it seemed the older we got, the worse our lives became. Two years later, our father remarried to a witch of a woman named Cassandra Scarlet, who brought along her two daughters to join our already oversized family. As pretty as she looked on the outside, my sisters and I knew she and her daughters we no good. Our suspicions were confirmed when we got to meet our new sisters.

The eldest, Evangeline, looked like someone had made a copy of Cassandra, and shrunken it. Same cool green eyes, curly red hair and pale, waxy complexion. She had a pink and white trimmed dress that she wore whenever she could. Its top more revealing than it should be for a girl of seventeen.

The younger sister, Charlette, was nearly the exact opposite of the other two women. She had long straight black hair, creamy skin. She did have the same color eyes but unlike theirs, hers held a warm, summer grass feeling to them. She always wore modest clothing, usually of earthy colors, and they were respectable for her age of fourteen. Also her face was rounder, making her seem all the more approachable.

It was clear that Cassandra favored Evangeline over Charlette; but Charlette didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, she was always happier sitting under a tree in the back garden reading a book next to Isabelle than at a tea party with her sisters friends.