~The Beast~

I wake up late in the morning and find Carina frying eggs in the kitchen. She's wearing her apron and has the windows open to let the fresh air in. The wind blows the chimes hanging on a thread and it's noise agitates me. I've told her to take it down like a million times.

"Good morning," she says. Her voice doesn't sound as sweet and cheery as it usually does and she doesn't turn to face me.

"Morning," I reply. I lean on the door frame observing her. For the first time in a long time, she seems grumpy. She has a scowl on her face and is slamming all of the pots and drawers. "Is everything alright?"

She unexpectedly slams a pan on the stove. "No, it isn't." She walks further into the kitchen, opens a cubort, and loudly rummages through some more pots and pans.

"Well, making a scene won't help," I snap. Not wanting to deal with anger this early, I change the subject. "Is Belle awake yet?"

Carina slowly turns to me, frowning. "Why?"

I growl. "I just want to know! Why are you being so difficult this morning?!"

"Oh, so you can throw a tantrum but I can't?" She shakes her head and goes back to cooking without another word.

"What is this really about?" I ask. Carina is almost never upset, if she is, there has to be something big behind it.

"It's about you, Gale." She sighs and places the pan down again but more carefully. "She almost died yesterday. She was hurt physically and emotionally."

So now she's trying to make feel more guilty than I already am? I confided in her yesterday and told her about how awful I felt. She knows I wish It never happened. She knows I blame it on myself. Why is she pooring salt in the wound? I should have never admitted that to her.

"It wasn't my fault! She snuck into the car!" I retaliate.

"It's never your fault." She goes over to the fridge and pours some orange juice. "Why don't you just take a good look at yourself in the mirror?"

"Carina . . ." I warn. "Stop." My looks are a touchy subject. I've told her numerous times I didn't want to talk about it or address it. That's why there aren't any mirrors in this house.

"No! The Enchantress cursed you so that you would learn a lesson! A whole year and nothing! It's time for you to change," she says her expression hardening.

I just stand there for a while, not sure what to say. She's never confronted me like this before. I never thought she would. She's just the maid.

"Last night, you said you were a monster. What are you going to do about that? Huh?" she questions. Waiting for my answer she crosses her arms and lifts her eyebrows.

"I . . ." I don't know.

"Exactly." Carina places the egg on a plate along with toast and bacon and swiftly heads out the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" I call after her.

"To feed your prisoner!" she answers in a nasty tone. Her ponytail violently swings behind her to match her march.

"Okay then . . ." I cross my arms and head back upstairs to think.

~Beauty~

What has become of my life?

I didn't sleep very well. I kept having nightmares about the fire, Ryan Daniels, and seeing Grayson. The events wouldn't stop echoing in my head. They haunted me like a ghost. Every time I closed my eyes all I saw was the flames that shot out of the flame thrower and in the shadows of the room I saw Grayson's face.

Grayson . . . I miss him so much. A big chunk of my heart aches for him. I miss his smile, his goofy jokes, his caring heart, everything.

I run my fingers through my hair and fall back into bed. I hope he heard me say I was in a castle. It would be a big clue for the police to use to find me. Then maybe all this madness could end. I could go back home.

The fact that he was trying to find me, that he was so close to getting me back, makes my heart leap and my eyes tear. He cares.

Carina left a pair of jeans and a pink, knit sweater on the desk for me with a hair brush. I comb my hair out, place it in a high ponytail, and put the clothes on. They fit perfectly.

An unsettling chill rolls down my spine as I pull the sleeve over my bandaged arm. How did Carina know these would fit? Where did she get these clothes from?

Just then, I hear Carina opening my door. I nervously wait for her to come in. When she does, I see she's holding a plate of breakfast. "Good morning, sweetie!" She sets up the breakfast on the desk.

I fake a smile in response. "Thank you."

"No problem, dear," she replies. I sit down and start to eat but she still hasn't left. She's just standing at the door looking around my room. I awkwardly clear my throat.

"This place is quite dull, isn't it?"

Suprised at her question, all I manage to do is shrug.

"We should add some color," she says and starts to wander the room. She looks over the curtains, the bed sheets, the walls.

But it's fine. More than fine! It's bigger than my room at home and I would enjoy if not for the circumstances. What if she moves me back to the basement as a punishment for not appreciating it? "It's really not problem I-"

"Ah, ah, ah," she says wiggling her finger. "We need to redecorate. Any idea's?"

I shake my head. "I'm a simple girl. The room is fine the way it is." It's the truth. I've never had much and because of that my need for it isn't very strong. Besides, I'm not sure how much time I want to spend with Carina. I don't completely trust her.

She squints at me before her eyes brighten. "Nevermind! I have an idea!" I giggle at the determination and excitement in her expression. She's so animated. "I better get to planning. Enjoy your breakfast!" She exits, leaving happy vibes in the room.

After breakfast, I remeber The Beast told me I could go anywhere in the house except upstairs the night I recovered from the fever. I stand in front of the door trying to work up enough nerve to walk out.

I could find out some more information about this place. I could find a way out!

But what if The Beast changed his mind? What if he's angry at me? What if by walking out, I walk straight into my death? I play with my fingers as the anxiety makes it harder to breathe. What if-

You can't spend your whole life wondering 'what if'.

Grayson said this to me all the time. I think it's one of the main principles he lived by. It's probably why he's always getting hurt. Still, I trust him. I'll do it. I'll follow his advice and get out of here.

Just as I reach for the door handle a knock startles me.

"Hello? Belle?" It's The Beast. What could he possibly want?

I back away from the door. "What is it?"

"I . . ." he trails off and then clears his throat. "I was wondering if you would mind taking a walk with me?"

"A walk? A walk where?" I ask crossing my arms. For all I know he's taking me out deep into the woods where he can kill me and no one would hear. I'm not sure I believe that. Why would he have saved me yesterday if he was going to kill me today?

If he isn't going to kill me, what is he going to do with me?

"Around the backyard . . . Please." The last part comes out sounding a little forced. I contemplate my answer. Do I want to take a walk with a murderer? After last night, I know he isn't all that bad.

"Are you gonna answer?" he complains from behind the door. I sigh. A walk does sound better than staying locked up in a house all day. Maybe it'll help me get to know him, his weaknesses. Maybe even find a way out.

"Alright," I finally state, opening the door.

~The Beast~

She finally opens her door and I find myself taken aback by her appearance. All cleaned up, she is a beautiful girl. So beautiful I feel my cheeks redden, ashamed at what I look like in comparison. I don't have flawless skin, I have tattoo like vains running across them. I don't have perfect teeth, I have fangs.

"Oh-uh," I fumble for words to say but it feels like I just forgot how to speak English. "Good- morrow. I mean morning."

Belle smiles a bit, cracking her guarded expression. "Good morrow to you too."

We stand there awkwardly before I remember what we were doing. "Oh, yeah. Let's take that walk," I say with an embarrassed chuckle.

I lead her downstairs and out the back to the where the large field is. It's the size of half a football field. Bushes a shade darker than the grass stand against the walls of the castle. A fountain stands a few feet away and a tall gate guards the perimeter.

The light breeze tauses our hair around as I watch her take it in. Again, she doesn't seem amazed or impressed like my old friends would have. The near thought of how exspensive this yard was would have put them in awe. She, on the other hand, just seems to enjoy being outdoors. She takes in a breath and closes her eyes peacefully.

When she opens her eyes she walks over to the old fountain. I follow her and try to work up nerve to open my mouth.

"I asked you to come on this walk because I wanted to talk," I finally get out. She crosses her arms and raises and eyebrow.

"About what?"

"I want to start over. I know I made a pretty bad first impression-"

"What makes you say that?" she says with a hint of sarcasm. "Was it kidnapping me or throwing me in a basement to rott?"

I groan. "Yes, I understand that was wrong and I'm . . ."

Come on, say the words, Gale.

She cocks an eyebrow, waiting. "You're what?"

"I'm sorry." She stares at me for a moment and I fight the urge to cover up my ugly face. Then she looks away and stares at the water in the fountain.

"Okay."

To end the awkward silence I move on to a different topic. "Speaking of starting over, I wanted to introduce myself. I never really got to do that."

She stares at me with that strong gaze of her's, waiting. She looks as if she is trying to solve a complicated puzzle. I guess I'm that puzzle. It couldn't get anymore tense.

"My name is Gale," I manage to get out.

She wraps her arms around herself and tucks a loose stand of hair behind her ear. "Okay."

I don't know what I was expecting. Definitely not a "Nice to meet you". It must have been terrible to meet me. I'm probably ruining her life. She's probably terrified. I want to show her she doesn't need to be afraid. But doesn't she?

"Would you like to walk around the garden? I want to stretch my legs," I say to break the uncomfortable silence. She simply nods and follows me through the large yet hollow yard.

There was a time when it wasn't empty. There was a swing set and slide. A little rock climbing board that I fell off of a million times. And then there was a cute little patio table on the side where my parents read the newspaper. Those days are long gone. The only thing left is the gloomy and blurry memory of them.

Belle stays a step behind me. I glance back and catch her taking in the metal gates lining the yard. They're tall and have pointy, elegant tops. There's no way she could get over it without impaling herself. Besides, there would be no where to run but into the woods.

She seems to notice this because she frowns and her gaze drops. Then her eyes catch something else ahead of us. The rusty and disassembled swing set from my memories.

She tilts her head to the side. "What happened to it?"

The flash back of it being violently torn down crosses my mind but I push it away. It's too painful to relive. "It was just...old..."

She nods again. "I'm guessing it was your's as a child."

"It doesn't matter," I say a bit too harshly. I bite my lip and close my eyes. So much for starting over.

"Okay. I'm sorry for saying anything," she says dryly. We fall into silence again but this time she wears an angered expression.

"Fine. My dad built it for me when I was three. We kind of just left it there but one day he got mad and tore it down," I admit.

"Why'd he get mad?"

I sigh in fustration. "I don't remember, he was just an angry guy. Any little thing would set him off. He always had to get things his way."

Belle stays quite for a second and I'm relieved. I don't want to talk about the past and the only reason I am is because I'm finally getting her to talk to me. But then she askes another question.

"Where's your dad now?"

I shrug and slow down my walking until I come to a stop. I kick the untrimmed grass and send a chunk of dirt into the air. "I don't know and I don't care," I say managing to keep my voice at a calm tone.

Belle tilts her head to the side, making her ponytail swing. "So you just broke contact with him? Cause you guys didn't get along?"

"I didn't break contact with him. He abandoned me!" I shout but not at Belle. I'm not angry at her. I'm angry at him. "All he wanted was a son that could live out all his dreams and I couldn't, not looking like this. So you know what he did? He walked out. Never to be seen again."

Belle stares at me, with some mixed up emotion's in her eyes. I cross my arms and look away. I said too much.

"I'm sorry he did that," she says with pity. "But thank you."

"Thank you for what?" I ask gruffly.

"For sharing that with me."

Trying to forget that just happened, I bring up what I really wanted to talk to Belle about. "I was wondering if you would like to come to dinner tonight," I ask. "You don't have to come if you don't want to. It's just last time worked out terribly and I wanted to make up for it."

"That's nice of you," she responds even though I know she doesn't mean it. "Can I get back to you on that?"

I'm not sure what she means by that. It's not like she has to check her schedule to make sure she's free. But we've had enough strained dialogue so I agree anyways.

The wind starts to pick up so we decide to go back inside where I find a note left by Carina.

I decided to head out for a while to run some errands. Don't wait up. -Carina

~The Hunter~

"Are you trying to tell me, you just remembered this piece of information? You just remembered what Belle said to you?" the detective questions taking notes.

"Yes. I guess I was just so caught up in seeing her I didn't process the words until recently."

The detective snickers at me skeptically. "Could is be possible you are just making this information up to cope with losing Belle? That maybe you're so desperate to find her your brain made up this information?"

"No. She said she was in a castle when The Beast was carrying her away," I state, my ears hot. They keep asking me the same questions over and over. Why aren't they taking me seriously? I know what's real and what's not real.

"And what sort of castle do you think she's in? The one in the fairytale's? Is she waiting in a tower for you to save her? I'm not trying to tease you, Grayson. I just want you to be aware that this experience can mess with a person's mental state," he informs with his cocky facial expressions.

My mouth twitches as I realize he thinks I'm crazy. I really hope this doesn't affect how much they look into it, even if sounds crazy.

As if reading my mind, Belle's mom comes off the wall she was leaning on and enters the conversation. "Even if there's a chance Belle didn't say that, isn't it still worth looking into?"

"Of course it is, Mrs. Anderson," he aknowledges. "It's just my job to question everything." He closes his note pad and extends his hand to mine to shake it, concluding the meeting. We head out of the police station and decide to head to a near by mall to get a bite to eat.

"Did Belle..." Mrs. Anderson trails off as we make our way to a table in the food court. "Did Belle like eating food here?"

I take a seat and stare at the soggy fries and burger drenched in grease. "The food is horrible here but she never complained."

She nods and smiles. "I wanted to thank you."

I look up from my tray and give her a confused expression. "For what?"

She takes a breath, her eyes wandering the mall. "For taking care of Belle when I couldn't," she says her face cloudy with gratitude and regret.

"You mean when you didn't want to," I snap, stabbing my fries with a fork. "There were times when she felt all alone. Most girls had their mothers, Belle didn't. Not because she died in a tragic accident, but because she rather get high."

Amy doesn't look shocked or offended. Her face just hardens into a scowl. I know she's not mad at me, she's mad at herself. "That's fair, I guess." She takes a bite of her food and then asks,"Do you think they're going to look into the whole castle thing?"

I shake my head. "Not much. They think I'm just a grief stricken boy. My mom said they recommend I try going to therapy to learn to 'cope.'"

She groans, slamming her drink on the table. "Then we have to look into it. Two days ago, we got closer to her than the police did. Maybe this time we'll actually succeed."

I rub my eyes. How'd this end up being my reality? Teaming up with my best friend's mother to go rescue her from a murderer?

"I'll look into it, Mrs. Anderson. Besides, you're going to be busy going to that therapy place to help you get rid of your addiction, right?" I remind her.

"Yea...I'm leaving on Friday. I should be coming back in a 3 months," she says shifting her mouth to the side of her face. "The actual program doesn't start till Monday but I think it would be better to leave early and get away from here. There are too many reasons to... go back to my old ways."

Suddenly, a woman in her mid thirties walks up to us. "Excuse me, I've never been to this mall before. Do you know where I can find a store for young woman's clothing?" Her grays shin as the skylight spots it. It stands out in her nest of dirty blonde hair.

"Oh, you can try Forever 21 right down that hall," I say gesturing to the store with a warm smile.

"Thank you," she says smiling in return.

Mrs. Anderson chuckles across from me. "How did you know where Forever 21 was at? You do your shopping their?" she teases.

I don't laugh. "No. It's where I took your daughter everytime she got tired of wearing the same old dirty clothes you bought her years back." I don't mean to be cold. I just need her to be motivated. I need her to take the therapy she's going to seriously.

When Belle gets back, she'll need her mother.