An Inmate
I’m an old man now, and I’ll die in this place. Well-deserved some say. They’re probably right. But I leave that to the Fates. The Fates have toyed with me all my life.
The Fates gave me fortune in ships and then took my fortune away. The Fates gave me a good wife, and took her away too. The Fates–do they ever tire of their games?–gave me many children…
Don’t worry. My children live good lives.
They do.
They just live lives without me in them. My youngest…she tried to forgive me. Oh, I blame the Fates, but the truth is, I’m a terrible father. My own skin is more valuable to me than my daughter. The shame of it is that given a chance today, I’d do the same again. If another monster came at me and demanded her–or now my grandchildren–here, I’d say. Take them and let me live.
But my daughter has a good life with her monster. She says everything worked out, but she’s a foolish, romantic. Girls think they can change a monster into a good man. A beast of a man is always a beast. I should know.
My daughter says she’s forgiven me, and she sends me a fresh rose every day to prove her love. I let her pretend. It’s the least I can do.
A Beauty of a story.
Thank you, Karen.
I’m so glad he didn’t mention the singing candlesticks and teapot. This way, at least he comes across as almost reasonable. Bitter, maybe. Bitterly reasonable.
Well, I admit I wasn’t using the Disney version. I’m a Grimm woman.