The Beauty, the Beast and the Little Black Book

I turned the pages of the little black book. Sketches and watercolor paintings of the castle filled the ivory white sheets within. Even though the rooms and the furniture were the same, the artist made the rooms seem livelier and wholesome, almost like the castle was a happy place at one time. There were people on each page; maids, butlers, cooks, and even one that I believed to be the beast. In all honesty, the drawing looked nothing like the beast. They were completely different. Except for their eyes. Their eyes gave them away.

Another page held a drawing of one red rose that was about to wither away inside a glass dome. Only three scarlet petals remained, the others scattered lifelessly on the golden pedestal below. For a moment, I thought I saw one of the remaining petals slip from the rose and slowly fall. The painting felt alive.

I turned the page to find a painting of a hand mirror. It was odd. I saw my reflection on the glass within the page. What strange magic.

The last page was blank.

A small noise echoed within the silent room. Whispers. I knew they weren’t real; it was only me and the beast that stayed in the castle, and he had gone out early this morning because we were low on firewood.

Laughter filled the room. It wasn’t mine. Secrets filled the walls around me. I could feel them. They created tension in every room, as if taunting me to find them. I knew it was wrong. The beast wouldn’t approve of me knowing the history of the castle.

The beast would probably be angry if he knew I had found the little black book hidden within the shelves of the library.

It’s okay though, I could have secrets too. Afterall, I was allowed in the library so I technically didn’t break any of his rules. It’s not like I had investigated within the forbidden walls of the dusty west wing. I knew what was hidden there though. A few weeks ago, I saw the door ajar and peeked inside from the hallway. It was full of old framed photographs and mementos from a different time. Like a shrine to his past life. Sometimes I wondered if he was scared of losing that part of him. Maybe that’s why he kept it hidden away from the rest of the world.

I closed the book and walked over to the window. A thick blanket of snow covered every inch of the grounds. It continued to fall from the sky. I felt like I was trapped in a snow globe that refused to settle.

I had come across this unexpected opportunity. I sold my life to the beast and had basically become nothing more than a goldfish. To look at the world from behind the tiny windows of my cage. All for $20,000. It wasn’t my money though. It was my Pappa’s now. Mother was very sick, and he needed it the money to help pay for her treatment. I had to run away without so much as a hug goodbye because Pappa never would have approved.

It wasn’t too bad being here though. It had its perks. I was in a castle, my room was beautiful, I definitely haven’t gone hungry, I have lots of nice dresses, I was safe and warm, and I could go to the library whenever I wanted. The beast wasn’t too bad either. I have come to love and care for him. I do miss my family though. I will always miss them.

I picked up the book again and fumbled through the pages. It was obvious this book held some kind of power. I peered into the mirror again and tried to make sense of it. A flicker of something caught my eye.

In a swirl of dust, the reflection began to change. I saw my pappa as he stood next to a bed, and held my mother’s hand. My mother’s honey brown hair cascaded over the pillow, like a lion’s mane as she slept peacefully. My chest began to ache, and I couldn’t stop the tears that filled my eyes. I missed them so much.

I’m not sure how long I stood there, my hands held onto the pages for dear life. It was my only connection to them now.

“Beauty?” Beast asked from the doorway. The book fell from my arms. Oh no… I hadn’t heard him come in.

“I… I’m sorry. I found it in the library,” I stammered, as he bent down and picked up the book. He looked at it for a moment and handed it to me.

“It’s okay to read. Oliver Twist is a classic. It’s not like there’s a lot of other activities available at the moment.”

What? Oliver Twist? It looks like this is my lucky day. I took the book from him with a smile. “Would you like to have some tea in the library?”

He nodded his scruffy head and I headed down to the kitchen, the little black book clutched safely to my chest.

I sat the golden tray down on the table in the library. English breakfast tea filled the tiny floral teacups alongside a small plate filled with lemon scones. The smell reminded me of home.

The beast carefully grabbed the tiny handle of the teacup closest to him. The scene before me looked absolutely ridiculous. I could have mistaken the beast for a ferocious grizzly bear, covered from head-to-toe in fur, and yet, he was calm as he held the tiny delicate teacup and sipped as though he was dining with the queen.

“Beauty, it’s time I told you a story… I wasn’t always a beast. Once I was the young prince of this castle. I had a visit from a witch who tested my character. After I failed the test, the witch cast a spell on me, this castle, and everyone in it. This castle holds us all prisoner. To break this spell, I need one person to love me as I am. As a beast. Then this spell will be broken.”

“But I do love you.” It was true, the feelings I had went beyond just fondness and caring.

“It’s not that easy. You have to show it in the way of the witch. Her magic will only be visible to the one who holds my heart, and no one else,” he said as he took a sip.

I wondered if this had something to do with the book I found. I had been in the library hundreds of times since I got here, but I had never come across the little black book until today.

That night I had a dream my mother was dying. I woke up drenched in sweat. I knew right away that the dream was real. I hurriedly grabbed the little black book from under my pillow and flipped through the pages until I found the mirror. Please let her be alright.

“Show me my mother!” I peered into the swirling dust and saw my mother covered in a mountain of blankets on her bed, the doctor close by. He looked distraught. Pappa cried in the nearby chair as he continued to hold my mother’s hand.

I screamed.

“Beauty… Beauty are you alright?” I felt the weight of his furry paw on my shoulder.

“I have to go home! My mother… she’s dying!” I said and pointed to the book.

“Beauty, what do you see?”

“I see a mirror, that shows me my family within the pages. She’s dying!”

He looked over at the window. “The snow has stopped, but it will still be cold. But you can go. I will make sure you are safe until you reach the town. I will try to get as close to your cottage as possible. You will only have one hour.”

Together, we rode on the fastest stallion the castle had to offer. The beast’s fur created a blanket of warmth. Just before we reached the town, we stopped, and the beast slowly dismounted. He turned to me and helped me get down.

“This is where I will wait. You have one hour Beauty,” the beast said as he kissed my forehead, “don’t forget.”

“I won’t,” I promised.

I went the rest of the way on foot. It wasn’t very far. But it was deathly cold. I noticed that nearly all of the lights were on in the small little cottage. I didn’t bother knocking and went straight to my parent’s bedroom. I knew that’s where they would be.

My parents were both over-joyed to see me. My mother’s fever began to break before I had even arrived. Pappa said it went away just as sudden as it had arrived. I was happy to be able to spend time with them.

I was so happy to see them, I almost forgot about the time. I looked over at the clock. I had five minutes to spare. I bid farewell. I felt better knowing they were alright.

Before I could protest, my pappa urged me to follow him. He led the way to my bedroom.

“My Beauty, you are the most precious gift in this world,” he gave me a hug and walked towards the hall. I tried to follow, but he stopped me.

“I just got you back, I’m not going to lose you again. I will not let you be a slave to anyone, no matter the price,” Pappa said sadly as he shut the door, followed by a metal clicking sound.

I rushed to turn the door knob, but it wouldn’t open.

“Pappa no! You don’t understand! I’m not a slave! I love the beast! I love him!” Tears fell freely from my eyes. How could this be happening? I had given up everything for my family. Yet, I felt more like a prisoner at their house than with the beast.

How could he do this to me? He was my pappa! He was supposed to wish the best for me.

I grabbed the little black book, and turned to the page with the mirror. I was too late. My hour was up.

“Show me the beast!” I could see his outline through the hazy dust and he slowly came into focus. He looked miserable. One lone tear fell onto his soft fur. He shivered and fell onto his knees in the snow. What happens if I’m late? I hate that I never asked.

I had to fix this and make it right. It seemed that this book was somehow the key. Suppose there was a reason why the last page was blank? I went over to the wooden desk beside the window and rummaged through the drawer in search of a pencil.

Aha! I turned to the empty page, and began to sketch the beast. I started with his eyes, then expanded further out to his nose and ears and then his body. When I finished drawing him, I started drawing myself. We were hand in hand. I wore an extravagant wedding dress. At the bottom, I wrote “and Beauty and the Beast lived happily ever after.” After a few moments, dust whirled around on the page. I watched, mesmerized by the magic of the book.

I heard a knock at the front door of the cottage and ran to the window. It was my beast. No wait… it was my prince, but he wore a fur coat. It was the exact same colors as the beast’s fur. A few moments later, I heard footsteps and metal clinking. I rushed to open the door.

“My Beauty… you did it!” My prince whispered as he pulled me into a hug. I looked over at the little black book. It was gone, replaced with an extravagant white wedding dress, identical to the one from the drawing.