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Articles Teen Perspectives Finding My Fairytale
| Finding My Fairytale |
 May 2009 was the submission month for the annual Upper California Teen Writing Contest for writers ages 12-18 years. This year's theme, Bringing the Heat, focused on stories based on the prompt “On Vacation.” Entries were judged by local author Charlie Price.
North State Parent is honored to introduce the contest finalist, 15-year-old Cassie Lynn Buell of Redding, CA. Her winning story is below. Finding My Fairytaleby Cassie Lynn Buell“Jason, I’m serious,” I yelled, half laughing as I chased my best friend through the airport, wrestling him for my passport. “My plane is boarding!” He laughed. “Alright, if you want it, take it.” He held the passport in his hand, raised far above his head. I folded my arms, putting on my serious face, now. He laughed again. “Alright, alright,” His smile faded as he surrendered. “Here.” I looked up at him and knew that my face mirrored his gloomy expression. “Hey,” I started, trying to smile. “It’s only one month.” “Yeah,” he agreed halfheartedly, looking down. I walked into his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist. He sighed. “One month,” he whispered. “I’ll miss you, Lee Lee.” ~ ~ ~ The moment I arrived at the hotel, I slid into the luxurious king sized bed in the center of the bedroom. Although the clock in my suite read 11:15am, my clock back home probably read about 2:00am. My exhaustion was prominent, so I drifted into a night of vivid, Italian dreams. ~ ~ ~ The return trip to my hotel was every bit as beautiful as the rest of my day. I visited the Ponte Rialto, went shopping in the local boutiques, had a cup of gelato at a café down the street, and rode a gondola back to the hotel. My plans of relaxation after my long day were foiled when I opened my door, revealing an envelope lying on a folded piece of scarlet fabric. As I looked closer, I discovered that the fabric was not the robe I had requested from maid service, but a knee length silk dress. The envelope had my name on the front of it, in beautiful penmanship. “Aleah~ Go to the café down the street at 7:00pm. Wear the dress I have laid out for you, and bring a single red rose. You can receive the flower from the gift shop in the hotel lobby. I look forward to seeing you.” It was signed “Tuo Italiano Prince,” which, roughly translated, means “Your Italian Prince.” I sat in a daze, trying to make a decision. If I went to the café, would I simply be letting my curiosity and love of a good mystery cloud my judgment? It was a potentially dangerous situation. On the other hand, if I did not go, I may regret the decision forever. I made my choice. I slipped into the scarlet dress, received the rose awaiting me in the gift shop, and walked to the café where my Italian Prince would be waiting. ~ ~ ~ This feeling was something I was not used to. As I sat at a small table in the café, I had a slight feeling of nausea, and I finally understood the expression of “butterflies.” Jason was the only male in my life that I had ever felt this way about. I had known Jason my entire life, though, and I had been told by too many people what a mistake it would be to ruin a friendship as strong as ours by involving romance. So I had learned to ignore my feelings toward him. These feelings were different, stronger. After waiting for about ten minutes, a waiter approached me, envelope in hand, and the butterflies took flight. “A young man left this for you. He told me to give it to you as soon as he left.” “Did he tell you his name?” I asked, hopeful. He hesitated. “I’m not at liberty to say,” he smiled. “Have a nice night, Miss.” “Aleah~ Awaiting you on the bed in your suite is a purple dress for tomorrow, and a plane ticket. You will not discover your destination until you arrive. When you land, a stewardess will give you further instruction. Tuo Italiano Prince” I left the café, thanking the waiter as I ran out the door. By the time I entered my room, I had a smile on my face that would not fade. I half-skipped to my bed, and my eye focused on a surprise. There was a pink tulip lying on top of the purple cotton dress. I set the flowers on the dresser, put the dress and the plane ticket in one of the drawers, and prepared for bed. The sooner I fell asleep, the sooner I could further embark on my journey to find my Prince. ~ ~ ~ I woke up at 4:00am, too anxious to sleep, so I decided to head to the airport. Tip-toeing out of the hotel and then bursting into a sprint, I made my way to the airport. My flight did not leave until 5:30am, so I had a while to wait, impatiently. ~ ~ ~ “Excuse me, Miss,” a stewardess said. “Are you Aleah Rose?” I sat up straight in my seat, excited. “Yes,” I replied. She smiled. “I thought so,” she said, reaching into her pocket. “A man left this for you. He told me I was to give it to you just before we land.” She handed me the letter as the pilot prepared for landing. “Aleah~ Welcome to Rome, mio amore. Make your way to the Trevi Fountain. There will be a man waiting there, holding a white daisy. He will give you more information. Tuo Italiano Prince” The man with the daisy gave me directions to my hotel in Rome, and to the airport. I had a flight leaving in the morning, and he said I was to use this day to explore Rome. ~ ~ ~ Over the next few weeks, my Prince sent me to over twenty Italian landmarks, all with a different flower waiting for me. It was my last day in Venice, and I had everything ready for my flight home. Part of me could not help but wonder if I would ever discover the true identity of my prince, but I had to get my rest. I put my worries aside for the night, and drifted to sleep. ~ ~ ~ My alarm sounded at 5:00am, and I brought my bags downstairs. I walked back up to my room to take one last look before I left my fairytale behind. Stepping through the doorway, I was disappointed to see that there was nothing but carpet beneath me. Was I going to hear from him one last time? Maybe this was simply an unforgettable memory, a mystery never to be solved. My flight would leave soon, so I took a long moment of silence, then closed the door to my fairytale’s castle. ~ ~ ~ The flight back to California was full of anxiety. I did not want to believe that I would never know who my Italian Prince was, and what his motivation was in writing to me. But whoever my Prince was was not important. What was important was that I had an intriguing, mysterious month, and now I would return home with no regrets. I strode through the runway doors and saw Jason. His face lit up with his typical smile as I ran into his embrace. “Hey,” he exclaimed, squeezing me gently. “How was your flight?” “Tiring,” I sighed. “How was your month without me,” I asked, smiling teasingly. “Boring,” he paused awkwardly. “Hey, one of the flight attendants told me there’s something waiting for you in the gift shop.” “Oh,” I replied, confused. “Come on,” Jason said, tugging me along. I was a bit confused by his enthusiasm. When we reached the gift shop, I froze in front of the counter. There, in front of me, was a bouquet of flowers – all of the flowers from my trip – and a letter. I walked hesitantly toward the letter, and opened it, forgetting everything else. “Aleah~ Ever since we were little, you dreamed of finding your Prince Charming in Italy. I wanted you to have your dream, but I never wanted you to be with anyone but me, so I sent you on this trip. I know it seems like a waste of money when I could have just told you how I feel, but your happiness is priceless to me. I hope you return my interest, but even if you don’t, my reward was seeing the gleam in your eyes every time you read one of my letters. I love you, Lee Lee. Always have, always will. Tuo Italiano Prince” My eyes filled with tears. I dropped the letter, turning to look at my Prince. I walked towards his anxious face, put my hand on his cheek, and kissed him. “I always knew you’d be my Prince,” I said as we pulled away. At that moment, I discovered what my fairytale really was. It wasn’t Italy. It wasn’t the mystery of my phantom Prince. It was my best friend. It was the man I would spend the rest of my life with. Jason was my fairytale, and I was his. Forever. |
March 2010
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