Fairy tales are a large part of a child's life and imagination. Many girls dream of a world where they can be princess, a dream that sticks with them in the back of their mind into adulthood, when they can pass the same joy that the dream brought them, onto other children.
Mazzy Hansford personally never saw anything wrong with fairytales, except her understanding of the grim past that had laid behind most of them. Having traveled a majority of the world, twenty-six-year-old Mazzy saw the true origins of the story and often found herself wishing she could have stuck with the child-like ones that had been told her. The ones she held so near and dear. They were simple, and innocent, and brought a personal joy to her, though from time to time, she often wondered how she might have looked at her childhood differently if she had only known the origin behind the fairytales, and behind the origin; the morals.
Still, at least she was old enough now to see how Fairy Tales had their purpose, and they weren't just a childhood dream.
And while these thoughts crossed her mind, her fingers skimmed the keyboard on her computer, her responses to customer's general concerns were auto-piloted. Having answered the same questions time and time before, Mazzy found this part of her job to be particularly handsome.
Clicking send on her email, she leaned back in her worn, burgundy leather desk chair, taking a moment to look out at the water, she felt herself slowly becoming mesmerized. Despite all the currents and the anger that the water seemed to have, it also gave her a sense of peace.
Maybe it was time for a change. She ran her fingers over the old golden key her grandmother had given her, reminding her of home.
Her mother was convinced Mazzy was incapable of understanding what home felt like-to Mrs. Hensford, Mazzy was doomed to be a roaming spirit.
While doomed certainly wasn't the term she would use for what she did-it was beginning to feel wearisome...and there was a certain place she hadn't been in years that seemed to be calling her.
And yet, she'd be crazy to leave her job now-and truthfully, what would she do? While she had started off with jumping from trying out different careers and working temporary jobs, it wasn't exactly something she wanted to go back to.
Letting out a slight sigh as the computer alerted her of yet another email, she reluctantly turned her attention back to the computer, expecting to find more questions pertaining to the tours that she would have much rather been guiding, than organizing.
Opening the email, a note was attached from someone she hadn't heard from in years.
Her mother.
Swallowing hard, Mazzy opened the email, dread sinking into her heart as she read the contents of the email. Clenching the key in her hand, she felt her train of thought slowly leave her-her reminiscence of home and thoughts of the future bowing out in a fury.
She was used to the typical financial inquires, or travel stents-and instead, it was an obituary.
A heavy air seemed to fill the room and Mazzy had suddenly become very aware of one thing; her fairytale ending had yet to come.