It’s ok to be different; well, that’s what I believe at least. I’ve read stories about beautiful maidens, selfless princesses, brave heroines, and extraordinary high school girls. Their shining hair blows in the wind as their eyes use the sun’s rays to reflect a beaming soul. Just like Ruby. Ruby is searching for her one true love in the fairy tale I’m engrossed in; she’s absolutely stunning. Her father, the king, refuses to give her rights to inherit the kingdom unless she finds a rightful king, the perfect prince. For Ruby, that shouldn’t be too hard Her swirling caramel curls, radiant chestnut irises, plump rosy lips, all these make Ruby ideal for any man. They’re always chasing after her, asking for her hand in marriage. Recently she rejected a handsome prince with enough wealth for generations, but he was unspeakably horrible to the people of his kingdom. Ruby knew he couldn’t be the one for her. Knew he couldn’t ever really love her. Decisions are always easy for Ruby, right and wrong so easy to distinguish. It doesn’t really matter anyway; I know she’ll get many more offers. She’s a princess, after all.
A frown creases my brow as I think back over the chapter I finished reading, with the arrogant prince returning to his homeland defeated. If guys are only after girls like Ruby, then where do I stand in the world? I’m nothing special...not as special as her. I place the book next to me, swirling my legs in the pond, gazing at my reflection. My looks are nothing compared to Ruby’s or the beauty of my other heroines. I mean, my eyes are almost the same color as the pond; dark, like the ocean on a stormy day. A hurricane. Who thinks a hurricane is beautiful?
I know I’m only fourteen, and I shouldn’t be thinking about my looks quite, yet I can’t help but doubt I’ll ever acquire the beauty they have. I puff tufts of tangled, unkempt, hair out of my eyes; it’s not long, glossy, and perfect. It’s a mess. An absolute mess. Compared to them, and most girls my age, I’m a rag doll: plain, ordinary, only capable of watching those who are able to be beautiful. I sigh as the tiny fish nibble at my toes. Will these be the only kisses I ever receive? I know what guys want, and I guarantee nothing about me is in the list.
"Roselyn!"
I flinch at the sound of my name, snapping back to reality. I’ve had enough daydreaming for now; sometimes my thoughts can venture to the dark side. I pull my feet out of the water, running through the backdoor into the house, hoping not to slip on the kitchen tile.
Mimi is in the living room waiting for me. She’s sitting at the tarot card table with a customer, a young woman with smeared eyeliner. Our living room isn’t like that of a normal family. Instead of a couch, we have a counter with shelves of medicine and herbs for sale. Sometimes we have a few charms as well, when Mimi has time to make them. She also reads fortunes for travelers on the side; this is how we make a living. Though, Mimi’s my mother, I don’t call her "mom,” “mother,” or the like. It’s like someone calling their grandmother "nana." That’s what she likes to be called: my Mimi.
Mimi’s baby blue eyes glance over from across the room. She’s a middle-aged woman with fiery auburn hair to match her passionate soul. She doesn’t look a day over thirty, though she refuses to tell me her actual age. Her smile comforts me as she points to the desk. An older woman with faded blonde hair in a long black coat is waiting. Her emerald eyes tremble as they scan the room.
"Can you help her, dear?" Mimi asks, holding up a finger to her customer as she turns away. "I have a lot of fortunes today."
"Of course." I love helping Mimi out. Especially with the shop. I think it’s fun; makes me feel like I have a job like most girls my age. I hop over the side of the counter, my pearly whites beaming. "What can I help you with?"
Her hand shakes as she pulls a folded piece of paper out of her pocket. She places it on the counter. keeping her eyes locked on mine as she slides it across.
Sanitatius. Or in layman’s terms, a healing herb. Mimi always makes sure to grow plenty in the garden, but this season has been bad. We were barely able to salvage 20 leaves. Hundreds of people stop by our store to buy it. It’s cheaper than modern pharmaceuticals, and is nine times out of ten more effective in treating most illnesses than they are.
Mimi has already had to turn down multiple customers due to its increased price. She never wants to, she says, but there’s not much else she can do. Mimi is always worried about profits; she can’t go easy on every customer that walks in. Taking care of me is her first priority.
"We don’t have many leaves in stock," I apologize. "So, the price in the market isn’t accurate."
"W-what’s the price?" Her voice shakes as her breaths deepen.
"Normally it’s 10 pariels, but..." My stomach tightens. The new price is almost as much as a drug store would charge. "Because of our bad season, we’ve had to raise it to almost 50 pariels."
"50 pariels!" Her face is a stark contrast to her clothes: ashen, completely drained of color. "I-I can’t afford that." Her voice is barely a whisper. She trembles on every word. Water glosses over her pale eyes.
I feel bad for her, I really do. Many people rely on us to supply them with what the commercial stores can’t, and when we have a bad season, we can’t help them like we’re supposed to. I frown. Is there anything I can do?
What would Ruby do? You want to be more like her right?
What would she do? Even if I don’t look like a princess, I can still act like one. I can have her heart, one full of love and kindness for others. I can help those less fortunate and give back to everyone in my kingdom.
I smile, gazing directly into her blotchy red eyes. "Don’t worry." I grab a leaf and place it in a tiny to-go box under the counter. "If 10 pariels is all you can afford, just pay that." My eyes drift to Mimi. She’s still reading a fortune for a customer; completely oblivious to me.
The woman’s eyes widen. "You mean that?"
I nod and push the box towards her. "We do just fine. Those who are struggling deserve help."
"Sweetie, you’re a lifesaver. Really." A couple of tears dribble town her cheeks. She exchanges a red pariel for the box. "I’ll never forget this."
I wave to her as she exits, the box over her heart. I can’t tell Mimi what happened. I know lying is wrong, especially to my mother, but that woman looked like she could really use the help. A white lie is a small price to pay for her happiness; Ruby would have done the same.
Mimi makes her way over to the counter as her customer thanks her with a shiny green pariel. "How did it go?"
My heart races. "G-great."
She eyes me curiously. "Why so nervous, dear?"
I swallow hard. My eyes glance nervously around the room. "No reason."
Her eyes examine me for moment. "You can run along now. I can take the shop from here."
I nod and head towards kitchen.
"I saw what you did, Roselyn," she says as I turn my back. Her voice is calm, but I know on the inside she isn’t.
The guilt in my chest throws my heart against my ribs. "Y-you did?” I turn and face her, ready to take any punishment she has in mind.
She sighs. "Roselyn, I’m not mad. You were just trying to help, right?"
I nod. "10 pariels was all she could afford."
Her smile calms my nerves. "You’ve always been such a sweet child. But," Her gaze hardens. "We can’t give everyone price cuts all the time. I have to make a living too sweetie. For you, for us."
"Yes, Mimi." I’m relieved she isn’t too upset with me.
Her smile returns. "I think it’s a good day to go out to the market, what do you say?"
"Really!" I beam at her.
"It’s not a busy day. Besides, we need some supplies anyway."
"Thank you!" I run over to Mimi and squeeze her tight.
She grabs our traveling cloaks from the closet as she begins to tidy up and close shop.
"Mimi," I say as we step outside. "I love you."
Her motherly warmth shines down on me. "I love you too, Roselyn."
**
Mimi’s cottage may be located in a forest, but we’re only three miles from a small market town. The residents prefer a bazaar type of trading, as opposed to traditional stores. Mimi even has her own stand. She normally goes to manage it once or twice a week; this way, customers can come directly to us and not have to trek through the woods.
Everyone in the market knows us. It’s no surprise that we get stopped by dozens of people as we make our way in. Even in the blazing heat the stone streets are flooded with consumers. I can barely see the stands above, and I’m average height. I grab onto Mimi’s cloak so we won’t be separated. If I end up lost in this crowd I might never find her.
As she stops by the seed shop, I watch the pedestrians as they pass by. Sigh. For some reason, all the women in the market appear more beautiful than normal. In their scarves and dresses, they look wonderfully mysterious. Even their children are stunning. Girls my age laugh in groups as they scour the market for new designs.
I hold out a piece of my hair, comparing it to theirs. Nope, it most certainly doesn’t. I pull the hood of my cloak far over my face. Nobody should have to see what a disgrace I am. Other girls my age are gorgeous, especially if they’re standing next to me. Plus, I don’t want anyone to judge Mimi for having to walk around with someone like me.
We don’t stay too long. Mimi doesn’t even run the stand. She only needed a few miscellaneous things for the shop at home. I barely say a word on the way home. My brain is consumed by my looks once again; I can’t help but compare mine to those of others.
“What’s the matter, Rosie?” I knew Mimi would notice. Nothing gets past those motherly instincts of hers. Which means I can’t lie and say everything’s okay. I’ve already deceived her once today; I don’t want to think about what might happen if I do it a second time.
“And why is your hood over your face?” She continues. “You hardly do that.”
I take a deep breath. Just tell her the truth. She’s your mother, she only wishes to help. “I’m embarrassed of my appearance.”
Mimi stops so suddenly her hood falls off and her herbs almost become dinner for the forest creatures. Her light eyes are wide, gazing intensely into mine. “Why are you embarrassed of your looks?” Her tone is concerned, but there’s no hiding the disappointment in her eyes.
Mimi has always been proud of my looks, fascinated by my uniqueness. But that’s something all mothers must say to their daughters; of course they’d think their daughter is the most beautiful girl in the world.
“There’s nothing wrong with the way you look,” Mimi says. She frowns. “You haven’t had an issue with them before. Why are you so quick to hide your face all of a sudden?”
I remove my hood and reach behind my neck to pull out the flowing locks tucked deep in my cloak. I grab a piece resting on my shoulder, holding it up so Mimi can see.
“Look at it.”
She smiles as she runs her fingers through the rest of my hair like a comb. “You have such thick, luscious locks, Rosie. Many girls your age would give anything to have hair like yours.”
I frown as I let the piece of hair fall back into place. Mimi always says that when I complain about my looks, my hair especially. I already know no girl would even want hair like mine. Maybe if it was brown or blonde or red, or any “normal” color those terms would apply, but mine isn’t.
Mine is the color of fresh snow on the first day of winter; the purest, most untainted white in nature. I used to tell myself that I was blonde, platinum blonde, and that eventually the yellow hue would settle in. But my hair has only gotten lighter over the years. Now, stark, white strands constantly fall over my eyes.
“Roselyn.” Mimi puts her bags down and kneels so our eyes are level. “You’re different, but that doesn’t make you any less beautiful.”
“Nobody I’ve ever seen or read about has hair like mine,” I argue.
“Just because you haven’t seen anyone with hair like yours doesn’t mean you’re not pretty. I think you’re gorgeous. And I’m sure many others think so too.”
I squeeze her tight as her arms wrap around me. “Don’t listen to what others say,” she whispers. “Normal isn’t necessarily a good thing in some cases. If you were ordinary, Roselyn, you could never be this stunning.”