My Messed up Dreams

Story Two: Pipe Piper for Rapunzel

Author/Weirdo who had dream note: This was created purely out of boredom. Not from dreaming exactly though, more Day-Dreaming. It's longer than most of the 'little' shorties stories, but I hope it's just as good.

In the town of Hamelin there lived a lonely girl locked away from the misery of the outside world. Though she was in misery from the memories of what had been, until it was ended...

... 

"I have never seen such a beauty, with such long golden locks," serenaded the elderly man, intertwining his stubby fingers through the gold strands.  

The young girl smiled warmly at him. Her hazel eyes catching the last of the sun's rays. The burgundy haired man heaved up her hair and helped her tread to her single wooden bed. She dumped herself on and slowly began to wrap herself, with the help of the man. Making a gold nest, that cradled her.  

"Good night my golden princess," the man said sweetly, pressing his lips to her forehead. Her eye lids collapsed down. She drifted away from her bed. She drifted away from the world. Though she was suddenly starting to be dragged back. Shouting and shrieks were rupturing through her thoughts.  

The blood, the lifeless victim, the serrated knife in the hands of that wicked woman. The woman who shattered my life...Gothel.

...

"My dear," she started to say eerily. "Remember not to leave your home." She stroked my dark locks. I flinched and lowered my head. It was more of a towered prison, than a home. 

"See you in two days," she said in a disturbingly cheerful voice. "I love you Rapunzel." I sat there in silence. "Rapunzel?!"  

"Love you...too," I blurted hesitantly. A shiver of terror rising up my thin spine.She gave one last blinding smile, then made her way out of the tower down my hair. I drew it back up, throwing a look of hatred as she disappeared into the dense forest.  

I wondered over to my wardrobe. Believe it or not, Gothel doesn't stop me from doing everything. Sometimes people do go through this area, and when they do, I'm there ready for them.  

I thrust open the door and he collapsed with a thud to the worn, wooden floor. The travelling baker who...use to sell the best cinnamon donuts you would ever wrap your mouth around. Now limp and cold. He can't make donuts where he is.  

I grabbed his sweaty red dyed apron. The blood still dripping from his quite freshly made stab wounds in his pudgy chest and neck. I pulled him around to the back window and wrenched him up onto the pane.  

I don't trust people. All they do is take things away, or give something bad. Even the donut man did. Trying to make me obese with his fattening pastries. I mean I could just say no, but who knows what else he could do. I glanced down, a dark pit filling the ground below. This is where I disposed of the others, and he was going to join them. I heaved him over and watched as his lifelessly bodyfall into the darkness below.  

Until the loneliness began to set in. Ever since the murder...or what Gothel says incidental death of my father, I've been kept out of the world and out of the light. My hair and even my eyes have lost their light, and are as dark as the pit. All because of a psycho woman, who couldn't look after her own child. It makes you wonder how her real daughter died.

...

"Where did I put it?!" I exclaimed with frustration. Trying to find the news clippings that I've kept stored in an old biscuit tin. I started it years ago, to remember the things that have happened in the outside world. Especially when it comes to those disasters and crimes. I paced around the room, until a board creaked."Got it."