MY NAME IS RAPUNZEL
By: K.C. Hilton
Publication Date: November 22, 2013
SUMMARY
My tale has been told again and again, and I’ve heard each one. Except for my hair, I barely recognize the pitiful renditions. Muddled versions, crafted to entertain laughing children…but the children wouldn’t have laughed if they’d known the real story. It wasn’t their fault. They didn’t know the truth. Nobody did.
My name is Rapunzel. I will tell you my story. I will tell you the truth.
ABOUT K.C.
Born and raised in Aurora, Illinois I spent my childhood climbing trees and playing street games with the neighborhood kids. I was a proud tomboy, until the day I didn’t want to hike the land to an old graveyard. From that point forward I was considered a “girl”.
At the age of seventeen I moved to Kentucky and eventually began to raise a family of my own. Having worn several “hats” my life has been an adventure all on its own. Still, to this day, I yearns to be a mechanic and own a pink toolbox with pink tools.
I can usually be found updating my website, reading great books, watching awesome movies or creating videos for my YouTube channel. Most days I craves Diet Coke, pizza and chocolate, in no particular order.
I don’t read scary books or watch horror movies… I’m way too scared! Lol.
Teaser from My Name Is Rapunzel
Just go, Henry. Save yourself. I tried to shout, but my mouth wouldn’t give way to sound. I was paralyzed. Was it with fear, or something else? The cackling witch at the tree line convinced me it was her doing.
I heard Henry continue to shout for me to flee, but I didn’t respond. I didn’t move. I didn’t run. I was frozen like a lifeless statue in a cold museum. With only the movement of my eyes, I pleaded with him to help me. A tear escaped one of my eyes then rolled down my cheek. That single tear managed to do what my heart and body could not. Escape.
Fear, like unseen hands, gripped my lungs and tried to crush them slowly. My stomach churned and threatened to empty. Would we die here?
The gentle chill of night had turned into a mid-winter’s frost. Tiny bumps rose on my arms and the small hairs prickled to attention. I opened my mouth to speak, but the words remained trapped in my throat.
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