The Art Site

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

Snip Part 2 ;)

All that remained of this de-princessifying business was to dye her hair, steal some suitable clothes from her brothers, shock her family and run away. The running away part would, of course, happen later on in the witching hour of the night. All that Arabella was unsure of was whether or not to leave a note on the royal pincushion before she ran away. That was what every princess before her had done in the same perilous position as herself, and Arabella felt the need to conform.

In an ancient, top secret medicine cupboard in the Queen Mother's room was a bottle of black hair dye. The Queen Mother's hair was unusually black for an 87 year old lady. Tiptoeing through her Grandma's room, Arabella spied the cupboard. Cautiously, she unlocked the door and quietly, she pulled out the large black bottle and slunk out of the room. In fact, there was no need to keep the noise down. Even if you sploshed a bucket of water on the Queen Mother she wouldn't have woken up in the middle of a deep sleep.
At the bathroom sink, Arabella read the instructions on the bottle. It took a long time. There were so many instructions on the bottle that Arabella decided not to take any notice of them. She wet her hair and poured the entire contents of the bottle over the tangled mess. The hair dye smelled disgusting, something like burnt porridge and burnt toast mixed together. After waiting for what seemed like forever, Arabella rinsed her hair and flicked it dry like a dog. It felt incredibly strange not to have a heavy weight of hair on her head. She surveyed the result in the Mirror.

Even though she'd cut her hair in a rough boy's haircut and dyed it black, the fact remained that Arabella was pretty. Ok, so she wasn't as beautiful as she was at the start of the de-princessifying business, but she wouldn't pass as a boy yet. It's those blasted long black eyelashes, the wide blue eyes and princess-pink lips that do it. Arabella thought angrily. Well anyway, I'll ask the Mirror who's the prettiest now. It better not be me. Arabella scrunched up her face and glared into the Mirror. "So who's the prettiest now?" she asked. "You are no longer the most beautiful princess in the land! Your sister Cynthia is prettier than you!" The Mirror jeered. Arabella grinned triumphantly and did a triple cartwheel on the carpet.


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