The Tower

Once upon a time, there was a childless couple whose house overlooked a witch’s bountiful garden. One day, the wife laid her eyes on a verdant bed of rampion. Its fresh leaves tantalized the poor wife. She begged her husband to fetch some, claiming she would die without it.

He snuck in, grabbed a handful of the greens, and fled. The wife ate the vegetables with gusto. Unbeknownst to the couple, the greens were imbued with magic, and upon discovering what they had done, the furious witch plotted revenge.

Nine months later, a child with golden locks was born to ecstatic parents. But that same night, the witch took the baby and left a basket of fresh rampion in her place.

The child was named Rapunzel, after the coveted vegetable.

Rapunzel grew up with the witch she knew as Mother Gothel. Growing up, she also had a best friend named Hortense. The two were inseparable. They would climb trees and braid flowers into each other’s hair. The pair would meet for hours and still whine about missed time together.

On the other hand, Gothel adored silence. She loved to be alone and quiet. So when the young Rapunzel talked endlessly about her friend, Gothel snapped and screamed. The child fell silent, terrified at how her mother’s voice echoed against the walls, turning the room eerily cold. Having had enough of the friendship nonsense, Gothel whisked her away in a tower deep in the forest. To keep her there, Gothel concocted a lie. One that a child would be too afraid to question.

“Hortense is dead,” She spits out the words as if it were poison, “A plague killed off the children, and I saved you. Leave this tower, and you die.”

Rapunzel cried herself to sleep that night. The first of many nights in isolation.

Gothel built upon the lie for years, telling stories of the plague-stricken world. Torn between curiosity and fear, the stories seeped into Rapunzel’s mind, creating waking nightmares.

One night, the moon was high but her eyes wouldn’t stay closed. Her heart pounded in her ears. Her thoughts, a racing incoherent mess. Everything felt too big and too small all at once. Rapunzel bolted upright and screamed into the night, hoping someone --anyone, would hear her. Alas, she was uncertain and alone.

The morning came and she saw her bloodshot eyes, staring listlessly from the mirror.

“Rapunzel! Let down your hair!”

Gothel had returned. Rapunzel hurriedly splashed water on her face and prepared her best smile to greet her mother.

Her nights were peaceful after that, but not for long. Soon, the waking nightmares started happening more often. She felt lost and confused. She was safe and sound, so why wasn't she okay?

One day, while daydreaming by the tower window, Rapunzel glimpsed a familiar mop of brown hair. Her breath hitched and her heart skipped a beat. She didn’t dare to hope; but when Hortense and Rapunzel’s eyes met, memories and emotions came flooding. Rules be damned, she found her! Rapunzel swiftly let her hair down and the two caught up in the tower. As sure as the sun, their bond rose above the dark peaks of separation, illuminating their world with warmth and familiarity. Rapunzel drank in the sight of her dear Hortense, who has grown into a bold, adventurous young lady. She was relieved her best friend survived the plague.

“What plague?”

With one question, Gothel’s lies began to unravel, as did Rapunzel’s world. The tower bathed in glorious sunlight, but it had never felt so eerie. Secrets hissed as the light revealed them. Within the dark recesses of her mother’s belongings, she and Hortense found sinister plans that detailed extracting magic from her hair. She was a captive, not a daughter. Hortense held Rapunzel close as she broke down in tears.

Then, Gothel’s singsong voice rang out, “Rapunzel, let down your hair!”

When Gothel was greeted by a distraught Rapunzel, she feigned concern. Rapunzel bitterly confronted her “mother” with the secret journals. Cornered, Gothel threatened to kill Hortense if Rapunzel left.

“You know nothing, child!” She said, “If your selfish parents didn’t steal from me that night, I would’ve risen to power long ago. You are nothing more than a vessel containing what is rightfully mine.”

To Gothel, she was no more than a clay pot waiting to be broken. But Hortense’s eyes touched her soul, orbs full of tenderness and trust that soothed her fears.

“Break free, Rapunzel.”

Defiant, Rapunzel listened to herself and channeled the magic. Energy flowed through her, and she relished her newfound freedom. Rapunzel felt whole as her hair blazed bright as day, blinding Gothel and saving Hortense.

It was over. The blinded Gothel used the last of her magic to hide in the crevices of the tower. Rapunzel was finally free, but the idea of a life beyond the stone walls sent shivers down her spine. In the face of sought-after liberty, Rapunzel hesitated. Could she really do this? What if there was truth in Gothel’s warnings of vagabonds and disease? Uncertainty and frustration sapped Rapunzel’s eagerness. Hortense took her hand and their eyes met. A new, strange feeling washed over her, both comforting and exciting at the same time. She smiled and embraced this curious feeling. Rapunzel wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

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Written by Julienne Bayani

Visuals by Jomarie del Rosario

Layout by Trisha Mirallo