Young Writers: Fairy Tales and Technology
This week, Young Writers Project publishes responses to the prompts, Fairy tale: Write a fairy tale that includes the phrase, “one thousand peas;” and Technology: Your cell phone is broken. What do you do? Young Writers Project is an independent nonprofit that engages students to write, helps them improve and connects them with audiences through the Newspaper Series (and youngwritersproject.org) and the Schools Project (ywpschools.net).
Prompt: Fair Tale
I’m not perfect
or your dream come true
and I won’t deny it
you aren’t too.
But if we meet in the middle
and you slide on my glass shoe
you don’t need a white horse
or a magic mirror to break through.
Let’s check out which magical spell
we dipped into;
there’s no other love like this
spell-binding one with you.
Sometimes your nose grows
just like Pinocchio’s.
Sometimes you fit the image of the beast
while I’m the beauty,
but it’s okay, because you rush in on your white horse
like it’s your duty.
Beneath my bed,
you planted one thousand peas;
I know I didn’t pass the test
just let me be yours, please.
It certainly was a once upon a time,
but it’s not time for the end;
if you can’t get me off your mind
maybe it’s time we are more than friends.
There will be stories of us,
seemingly endless pages;
our love will be preserved
throughout the ages.
We won’t focus on the faults,
only the happy times and laughter;
it’s about time
we start our happily ever after.
Far away, in a land that no human eyes could see, there was a fantastic kingdom. It was full of rolling hills, luscious fields, jagged peaks and magnificent fjords. Those who inhabited the kingdom were not limited to fairies. There were also trolls, gnomes, pixies, elves and the ever-so-devious blargs.
Built into the side of the most beautiful mountains in all the land was the Jade Palace. Its halls, rooms, and towers were all carved from solid jade. In the palace lived the leaders of the five White Magic races: The Triumphant Troll, the Queen Elf, the Princess Pixie and the Duchess of Dust Fairy, as well as the Grand Gnome. It was their job to ensure that all six races lived in peace and harmony. Their job would be easier if it were not for the blasted blargs who always caused a ruckus. The foul beings would trick the pixies into thinking that the fairies stole their magic growing dust, and they would trick the gnomes into thinking that the trolls robbed their gardens of their precious petunias.
The five White Magic leaders had had enough of the unnecessary tomfoolery being performed by the blargs, so they set off into the fjords to bargain with their ruler.
The blarg ruler was a nasty creature, and he would not comply with the White Magic leaders’ pleas for peace. He said he would only order his people to stop with their mischief on one condition: the White Magic races had to give him 1,000 peas. This flabbergasted the Grand Gnome, who being in charge of all the gardens across the land, knew that peas were the most precious of all crops.
After much debating, the five rulers agreed to the blargs’ terms and headed back to the Jade Palace. All the people of the White Magic races were called together; they needed to work fast if they were going to deliver the peas to the blasted blargs.
The trolls plowed the fields and made them ready to take seed. The pixies showered the seeds in magic growing dust while the gnomes and fairies told the seedlings stories to ensure that they would grow, and grow happily. The elves sang harvest songs and chanted spells to make sure that the important harvest went as planned. After an enormous amount of work, the rulers were able to deliver the 1,000 peas to the blasted blargs and bring peace to the kingdom.
How, how could this be?
How could he not see?
He is our king, is he not?
Or, is it true, that he has forgot?
Running away from everything thrown his way,
Will surely be his destruction one day.
All I asked was something so simple, so small,
It wasn’t an egregious act at all.
I asked of him, my father, my king,
To do for me, one small thing.
But oh my dear,
His hearing is nearly gone in both ears!
For he made a mistake of what I had asked
And turned a simple favor into a terrible task.
And now, our queen is gone, is dead,
Forever, for off went her head.
(Quite literally too,
We decapitated her from infecting us too.)
She was growing sick, rather fast,
And she was due to pass.
Don’t take me wrong, I am anything but happy,
The entire mess is rather wacky.
Now you’d think, as our leader,
He would’ve thought better and therefore saved her.
See mother grew ill,
Nothing could help her, no syrup or pill.
But then I met a nice, kind witch,
Who lived past the troll’s bridge in a ditch.
She had for me,
A secret, life-saving recipe.
One that could save Mum,
As soon as the process had begun.
It was an interesting farrago:
Tail from a cat, and a troll’s toe.
Mix that with ten maple leaves,
And take the honey from some honey bees.
(But, you will see,
The problem lay with those bees.)
Stir in a pot
Until it turns quite hot.
Then add a pound of sugar,
To sweeten it up just a bit for her.
There was one final ingredient,
And this is what, to my father I sent;
I don’t know how to make this so clear,
But extremely allergic to bees was Mother Dear.
I was sure to extract the honey carefully,
To make certain that no bee followed me.
The final piece, however, I couldn’t obtain,
So to my father I went to cure my mum’s pain.
I asked for one thousand peas.
But peas! No! He got me one THOUSAND BEES!
And well, to say the least,
Those bees are the reason that mother is deceased.
For they swarmed on her,
They repeatedly stung her.
Nothing could be done,
For the battle, the bees had won.
It’s my fault really;
I should’ve never asked a deaf man for one thousand peas.
I have something urgent to tell you
And there isn’t a doubt that I should.
But my phone — well, I dropped it — it’s broken in two.
Believe me; I’d call if I could.
The message I have is important,
And by saying that there’s no mistake.
It needs to get straight to you, ASAP.
I won’t lie — the world is at stake!
Without my cell phone I am nothing.
I feel like a part of me’s died.
I’m locked in a cell without anyone else
or any links to the outside.
I sent the phone in — it has a warranty.
I pray that it will be back soon
‘cause I don’t think I have energy to stand
and walk to you across the room.