AN: Don't know what this is. Just a random thing I wrote.
So, I walked up the downtown in the middle of the night kind of thinking about the way neon looks when it's reflected in a rain puddle and kind of not. The prostitutes in leather and fishnets gave me a lot of strange glances as I hurried past them. I did not match the night.
I was a fairytale. My clear plastic high heels tapped down the street and my bright blue dress bounced bounced against me happily. It had layers of ribbons built elaborately around my thin body like a cake. My hair, a helmet of unmoving perfection, held a sparkling tiara, and a matching necklace glittered on my neck. Oh, and my teeth sparkled too when I smiled.
"Honey, you need to show more leg then that!" I heard someone call from across the street. I held my head high and tried to ignore the voice. "Prince Charming ain't never gonna come down her, Sweetheart!" The same voice yelled. I kept walking and hoped the prostitues would not follow me.
I was a sort of fairytale. I could look the part of beauty, but no prince could find me. Especially in this part of town. I stumbled as one of the heels broke off my shoe. In the gutter I removed my shoes and placed them down. I laughed at the irony of leaving my beautiful shoes behind and wondered if my prince or a transvestite would find them.
Climbing to my feet I frowned at the cold feeling of wetness against my stockings and walked on. My prince was a jackass. Mom had been right about the guy. He wanted to get in my pants and all the lovey dovey stuff was just an excuse. Even the invitation the prom. I'd spent my entire teenage life waiting until this moment and he ruined it. When I said no to a blowjob in the limo he dumped me here on the street before we even got the prom.
Where ever here is. I looked around again and hugged myself in worry. My friends would be worried at least. I kept reminding myself of that. So I just had to keep my wits about myself until somebody realized something was up.
"Hey, Pimperella," someone said. I screamed and ran down the street, my tiara dropping and bouncing into a storm drain. Tears welled in my eyes and I knew my make-up must look horrible. Tales of monsters and witches and goblins and demons rushed through my head. They tore through every shadow, ravenous like wolves.
I was not a fairytale.