A Better Reality

Just another day in the life of Bethany Perkins, aka Princess Bethany the Fair. Reveals further details into her father's death and her relationship with her mother. Also, another visit to Wholeheart!

Emma Waterford (she used her maiden name these days, much to her daughter's frustration) didn't arrive home until the wee hours of the morning. By this time, Bethany was fast asleep in her father's old armchair in the living room. The car that brought her home was fancy and new, with an engine that barely made a sound, and so didn't cause the dog next door to start barking. The driver, a middle-aged white guy with Chinese characters tattooed on his arms escorted her up the path to the front door.

There was a lot of fumbling with keys and giggling, until finally a red-faced and very tipsy Emma came staggering into the hallway. Dave followed her inside. Together they managed to find their drunken way into Emma's bedroom, nearly falling over themselves as they did so. They made love then, in what had once been Bethany's parents' marriage bed.

Bethany slept through the entire thing. She was attending a dance in the Wholeheart city hall to celebrate the coming harvest. When the sun rose and Dave slinked back out to his car, leaving Emma naked and snoring on the bed with her legs apart and the bedroom door wide open, Princess Bethany the Fair was enjoying a dance with Lord Troy, ambassador from the Elven kingdom, to the jovial tune of the talented court musicians' lutes and fifes.

It was light when Bethany finally awoke in her father's chair. She was shivering - Dave hadn't bothered to close the front door either, thus allowing a cold breeze to sweep through the house.

She yawned widely, and smelled her own breath. She wrinkled her nose at the scent and pulled herself out of the chair. She walked like a zombie into the kitchen, pushing the front door shut on her way. Her mother's bedroom was empty.

She dropped two slices of bread into the toaster and yawned again as she waited for them to brown. There was a folded piece of paper by the toaster with Emma's flourishing, girly handwriting scrawled across it.

"Left car at Dave's last night, going to pick it up. Back later. Love, Emma. Ps, milk in fridge expired. Buy some today pretty please?? Money in my coat pocket in bedroom. xoxo"

B***h. Why couldn't she get it herself? ranted harsh-Bethany. But as soon as this angry thought flitted across her mind, she found herself close to tears.

For a second she tortured herself by remembering a time before... this. Back when 'Emma' was still 'mom' and 'that cheating sonofabitch' was still 'dad'. Back when going to buy milk had meant walking down to the convenience store on a sunny afternoon with her tiny hand enclosed in her dad's, gawking wide-eyed at butterflies and jumping over cracks in the pavement.

But then he had gone away. On that damned business trip to Seattle. Bethany still remembered the hug he had given her before he left for the airport. The way he had knelt down and wrapped one comforting arm around her, smelled her hair and kissed her roughly on the forehead. He had still smelled of aftershave and deoderant.

She also still remembered when she had found out about the accident. The Seattle Police Department had found his rented car upside down by the side of the road with the driver's side caved in and a rear wheel still spinning. Two days after Simon Perkins had arrived in Washington a four-wheel drive controlled by some blind-drunk seventy-something janitor had broadsided his car at an intersection and flung it nearly thirty feet off the road, breaking Simon's neck like a twig.

Bethany's father had died at the scene. Emma had had to go down to the local Police Station and look at some photographs to identify his body. The janitor had walked away with cuts and bruises, of course. Bethany still remembered seeing him on the news. The b*****d had had the guts to say it wasn't his fault. That Bethany's father's car had pulled out unexpectedly in front of him and left him no time to stop. He was lying through his mangy beard, and everyone knew it.

But that wasn't the worst, oh no. Fathers died all the time, that was the sad truth of the world. But the woman in Simon Perkins' passenger seat had also perished. The woman who had been positively identified as Debra Hill, local prostitute. They had found a wad of twenty dollar bills tucked in her cleavage with Simon's fingerprints on them.

Bethany's father went on business trips all the time, sometimes as far abroad as Bangkok and Prague. How many cheap women, paid in cash and picked up in a rented car had there been over the years?

In that instant seven months ago, Bethany's perception of her father had been shattered. The ever-kind, ever-friendly man with the sparkle in his eye and the infectious smile and the large but gentle hands was now just another horny businessman. Another statistic in an automobile-accident-deathrates study.

Bethany's toast popped up, dragging her back to the here-and-now. She no longer felt very much like eating. Forcing herself to choke down the charred slices, she trudged into her mother's room and found her coat slung over a chair. In the pocket there was, indeed a handful of coins. There was also a reciept for shocking-pink lipstick that was also shockingly expensive.

Typical, said bitter-Bethany. This particular Bethany was getting very annoying.

She sat down heavily on her mother's bed and looked around. The lamp in the corner had been knocked over, and the bedsheets thrown aside hastily. To Bethany's disgust she also saw that sleek black dress Emma had been wearing the previous evening lying crumpled on the floor along with Emma's brassiere and panties. There was also a discarded tie that she assumed belonged to Dave, lord of Goblindom.

I really hope he doesn't come back for it today, muttered worried-Bethany.

I really hope he doesn't come back at all. Ever, retorted that old friend bitter-Bethany. She had been getting a lot more vocal lately.

Deciding to postpone the milk-run for now, Bethany headed upstairs to her room, slipped into jeans and a t-shirt, fell onto her bed and returned to Mirrorvale.

Autumn had now arrived properly and was filling the kingdom with resplendent glory. Princess Bethany the Fair found herself strolling the streets of Wholeheart city, pausing now and again to examine whatever market-stall took her fancy, or to pet a roaming dog or furr-bumble.

She chatted with the Elfish tailors and seamstresses in the cloth-district, admiring their latest work and putting in an order for a dozen new dresses. She visited the stables by the city walls and charmed Ulgar, the Orc stable-hand into letting her feed the beautiful new foals. In short, she was enjoying the day.

She continued to take in the sights of the city of diamonds for hours, while her loyal bodyguards followed behind at a respectful distance.

Then, as the sun neared its zenith in the sky, the unmistakable caw of a titanhawk sounded.

"Brugh, brugh brugh!" came the ugly coughing.

It could only be one thing, the princess knew. It was the queen returning home from Goblindom. She had left in a luxurious caravan with an escort of twenty foot soldiers and three titanhawks. The hawks were mighty and fearsome, with spearlike talons and thirty-foot wingspans. They were also, however incredibly noisy.

"The queen's caravan approaches!" came the cry from the watchtower.

There was a sudden commotion as townspeople rushed to clear the main street. The city gates creaks open on their giant hinges. Soon the titanhawks came into view, with ribbons of the queen's colours black and red streaming from their tails and beaks. They were, as always an awesome sight.

They soared overhead and landed gracefully in their nests built into the highest tower of the castle. A loose feather a foot long drifted down on the breeze and landed at Bethany's feet.

Then came the foot soldiers acting as vanguard of the royal convoy. Their spears were adorned with flashy and brightly-coloured penants, again showing the queen's colours.

Finally came the royal carriage itself. The curtains around the side were pulled closed, concealing her majesty from view. It trundled through the gates and down the main road, paying no heed to any who got in its way. A girl no older than twelve winters was nearly trampled into the dust.

High off in its nest in the tower, a titanhawk continued to bark:

"Brugh, brugh! Brugh!"

The neighbour's damned dog was barking again. That could only mean one thing. Emma was back with her rattly old car.

Bethany Ella Perkins the Awkward and Ungainly rolled out of bed and groaned. It seemed that today, fate was keeping her away from Mirrorvale.

God, I wish I could just stay there forever, sighed wistful-Bethany.

Could that be what heaven's like? Is that where you go when you die? That wouldn't be so bad... Said the voice that Bethany always, always tried to ignore.

Dangerous thoughts, girl. Dangerous thoughts...

Author's Note

Thinking of setting the entire next chapter in Wholeheart. Thoughts and feelings on this??

Reviews

[London and London, PLLC]

This is good work. Keeps your attention the whole time and leaves you wanting to know what is going to happen. While I am a fantasy reader this is not my usual type of story but I'm interested to see where it goes. An entire chapter in Wholeheart would definitely be interesting.

[Mikayla_Stagg]

I think it is a great idea! I really like this but it is a little confusing as to who is the narrator and when/if it is switching and such. Keep writing and dont forget to send the read requests!