appeared behind her.
“Now let me get this straight. Before you were born, you decided that you wanted be a girl, so that your father would not have the pleasure of raising a boy. Is that right?”
Celeste dashed the tears from her face. “Of course not, I don’t even remember being born, so how could I have made that decision?”
“Okay, then who is to blame for this atrocity against your father?”
“No one is to blame.” She glared at the fairy. “I was just born a girl. Don’t tell me fairies are so much out of touch with humanity that they don’t know only God decides what we are when we come into this world.”
“Well, that is what I always believed, but you seemed to be taking the blame for it, so I naturally thought I must have been wrong. Now, to get things straight, God brought you into this world as a girl which was a mistake because your father wanted a boy. Do I have it right now?”
Celeste sat in her corner, dumbfounded. Her grandmother’s words flowed out of her mouth as realism flowed through her brain. “God does not make mistakes.”
Queen Brighid stood. “Yes, this is true. God does not make mistakes.You were meant to be born a girl. The only one at fault here is your father for not accepting you thus. It is such a pity. Both of you missed out on so much because of his prideful blindness. He is to blame, Celeste, not you.”
“Now, let’s go visit your mom. If my memory serves me right, that would be Gloria.”
Before Celeste had time to blink, the dashes of light were back. When they stopped, she found herself standing in her childhood bedroom.
She was sixteen and about to attend her first dance. Celeste watched in agony as her vision’s self shyly put on the dress her mother had bought. It fell flat on her immature body.
Gloria scowled at Celeste’s lack of curves. Pulling her to the bathroom, she smiled and said, “This will fix you up until yours grow a little more.”
She hummed as she stuffed a boxful of tissues into Celeste’s flat bra. “Now for some makeup so you won’t look so plain.”
The vision shifted. They were now in front of the school gym. “Just try to have fun, Celeste.” Gloria scanned Celeste from head to toe, then shook her head and sighed. “When I was your age I had all the boys in school chasing me, and most of the girls were just plain jealous. You are my daughter, so I know there is at least a little bit of me hiding in there.” She took her daughter’s chin in her hand and raised it high. “Let that part out and try to fit in. I will be back by 10:00 to pick you up.”
Celeste snuck in the door behind a bunch of giggling girls and found her way to bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror. You look like a whore. The reflection shouted at her. With defiant vengeance she scrubbed all of the makeup off, then crammed her fake boobs in the trash. Plain was what she was, and plain was what she preferred. Celeste slunk back into the dark dance room and methodically blended into the walls. If she could just go unnoticed then she could survive this stupid dance and be done with it.
After a boring two hours, Celeste yawned and peeked a look at her watch. 9:45. She slowly worked her way to the door making sure to stay close to her never-ending safety net. The wall was her best friend. She was just about to slip out the door when her mother came barreling in, camera in one hand and Celeste’s hunky gym teacher in the other. Bumping into each other, Celeste and her mother gasped in unison.
“Mom, what are you doing?” Celeste hissed under her breath.
Her mother dropped the gym teacher’s hand, replaced it with Celeste’s, and literally dragged her to the car. Once safely inside, she glared at her daughter. “How could you do this to me? After all of the hard work I went through to make you look presentable tonight? What is wrong with you, Celeste? I take back what I said earlier. I don’t think there is any of me in you. You want to be a plain little nobody? Fine, I am done trying to help you.”
“But, Mom, I am not like you. I wish I could be, but I just can’t.” Celeste’s words to her mother faded with the vision. She was once again in her haven of darkness.
Queen Brighid was now pacing in front of the large oval light. She turned to face Celeste.
“I am quite confused,” she said, furrowing her brow. “I can’t for the life of me figure out why you would want to be like your mother. Can you explain this to me?”
“Because she was beautiful and daring. She was homecoming queen, head cheerleader, and the most popular girl in high school,” Celeste blurted out. “Everyone wanted to be like her. Even my girlfriends thought she was awesome. Sometimes I think that is the only reason they hung out with me, so they could be around my mom.”
“Did you try out for cheerleader?”
“No.”
“Did you desire to become homecoming queen?”
“No.”
“Did you care that you were not sought after by every boy in the school?”
“No.”
“So did you really want to be like your mother?”
“No, but she wanted me to be like her so much. I should have at least tried. I was her only daughter and a complete disappointment to her.”
“So, if you would have been all of these things, do you think you would have had a better life?”
Celeste dropped her head. “No.” Once again her sweet grandmother’s words rolled off her tongue. “God makes everyone unique. Your destiny is yours to find.”
“Yes, Celeste, you were being true to the only person that mattered, yourself. You would not have found any happiness reliving your mother’s life. That was not in God’s plan. Gloria was trying, through you, to hold on to her happier days. The days before she had to settle down with a husband and a family. It was not fair for her to lay this guilt on you. She is to blame, Celeste, not you.”
Celeste nodded, finally seeing the truth behind her mother’s unhappiness. Gloria had been bigger than life itself in high school, but in the real world she was just an ordinary mother and wife.
The thought had barely sunk in when the dazzling lights returned. When they stopped, she found herself on unfamiliar ground.
“Where am I?” she asked.
“For your next problem, we had to travel into someone else’s memory. Someone whom you love dearly, but who does not return your love the way he should. It is time you know the reason why Vincent cannot love you as you love him.”
Celeste watched as a young boy played with his toy truck in a small quaint living room. He seemed happy and carefree, running and zooming all over the wooden floor. Suddenly, he stopped playing and slowly crept over to the kitchen door. Peering through the crack, he listened intently to the harsh words being hurled at his mother.
“Didn’t your mother teach you anything? This slop isn’t fit for a pig."
A beautifully cooked roast dropped to the floor as Vincent’s mom raised her hands to protect her face. The beating seemed to go on forever. Vincent ducked behind the door as his father stalked out of the kitchen.
“What are you hiding back there for?” his father yelled. “Get your coat. Your mom has ruined our supper again, so I’ll have to take you out to eat.”
Vincent grabbed his coat and, ignoring the sobs from the kitchen, ran to catch up with his dad. “Can we get pizza?” he asked as they sauntered out the door.
In a flash, Celeste was back in her hole.
“Oh my,” she said, “I never knew. To see them today you would think they were the perfect couple.”
“Yes, just like you and Vincent when you are out in public. Do you remember all the times Vincent’s father attended dinners and family gatherings without his wife?”
“But that was because she was always sick.” The reality of the words hit Celeste like a brick. All of a sudden she felt queasy inside. How could she not have known? It had been happening all these years right under her nose. That poor woman.
“And now you have let yourself become that poor woman, Celeste. What do you plan to do about it? Hide here in the darkness and live thus
, or are you ready to come into the light?”
“I want to, but I don’t know how. I want to do so many things and go to so many places. I would love to be able to choose my own destiny. But I wouldn’t know where to start.”
Queen Brighid smiled. “I will leave you now with one last thought."
"When your head is laid to rest,
Sweet dreams will send you on a quest.
To find the light and make it last,
You must travel to the past."
With that the queen stepped back into the light and disappeared. The closet was again shrouded in darkness. Celeste was exhausted. She wasn’t sure if what had happened was real or a dream, but in either case she would have to deal with it in the morning. Her eyes closed as she laid her head on her grandmother’s quilts and fell asleep.
Celeste was in her grandmother’s living room. The room was small, yet cozy. Strung across the room were numerous quilts made by her grandmother’s artistic hands. Ten-year-old Celeste dashed around the room taking in the beauty of each masterpiece.
“Oh, Grandma, they are all so pretty. When I grow up, I want to be a quilt maker just like you. That would be the best job ever!”
“If that is really what you want then I will teach you. It is a dying art, and one that I would be proud to pass down to my granddaughter. Come sit here beside me. It is really quite simple. You can make this square. It will be the centerpiece for your first quilt.”
“Really, I will have my very own quilt made by my very own hands?”
“The first of many, I hope.” Grandma laughed.
They were giggling over Celeste’s wiggly stitches as the dream vision faded, and Celeste awoke to the feel of soft cotton under her chin. It was the beginning of a new day, and with the sunlight shining into her haven from the opposite side of the door, she vowed it would also be a new beginning for her.
She heard him banging around the kitchen in search for who knew what. Celeste gathered her precious quilts and squared her shoulders. She opened the door to her hiding place. She didn’t need to hide anymore. She knew the truth, and today, the truth would set her free.
Vincent whirled around at the sound of the closet door opening. “So that is where you go to hide. Well, isn’t that just dandy? You have yourself a little hole in the closet. I would say it is the perfect place for you. Maybe you should just stay in there forever.” He started toward her.
She knew that look. It took everything she had not to duck back through the door into the darkness. “Vincent, I know about your mother and father.”
The words stopped him in his tracks. “And just what is it you think you know about my parents?”
“I know everything. I know about the beatings. I know about your father’s anger problems, and I am so sorry they became yours also, but I refuse to live like this. I am leaving. I am a person, not a thing to be destroyed just to appease your lust for brutality. I am taking only what is mine. Do not try to stop me."
Vincent stood there, looking like the innocent young boy playing with his truck. He didn’t move as tears began their trek down his cheeks. “How did you find out? I have never told anyone about my parents.”
“It doesn’t matter how I know. I have seen the truth, and now I am going to step out of this atrocity we call a marriage and into the light. Goodbye.”
Celeste held her head high as she walked out of that life and into her new one.
She smiled as the sunlight danced on her face. She knew it would be hard, but she had a plan. First she would pawn her precious quilts so she would have something to live on. Then she would look for a job, but not just any job. She would look for a sewing job. That would lead her to her destiny. No matter how long it took, she would one day be the proud owner of Grandma’s Memory Quilts. She would specialize in quilts that depicted family memories. As the light brightened before her, Celeste heard a familiar voice.
“Welcome to the light, lovely lady. Your destiny awaits you.”
If you enjoyed Into the Light, you can read more of C.L. Collar's fairy tales in her new book
Finding Fey: A Book of Fairy Tales.
Acknowledgments
It is time to say “THANK YOU” to all of the wonderful people in my life who have made this book possible. First, I would like to thank my mother, the lovely Lou Anne, for introducing me to the world of rhyme and magic at a very early age thus giving me the drive to explore and play in the wonderful world of fantasy. Next of course, would be my dad, Bill Johnson, for his encouraging words and constant belief in me.
I also want to thank my copy editor, Christina Laurie, and my proofreader, Cheryl Trenfield,, who deal with my endless mess of commas and errors and make them make sense.
A book is nothing without a great cover, and I am fortunate to have my daughter, Brandy Walker of Sister Sparrow Graphic Design, to bring my book to life with her never ending artistic thoughts and ideas. Her covers are truly a work of art.
I belong to two wonderful groups of writers, The WordWeavers of Bartlesville, Oklahoma, and The Clever Fiction Online Group. Their guidance and advice have definitely made me grow as a writer.
My three beautiful daughters, Brandy, Jennifer, and Anna, have always been an inspiration to me and a constant source of the laughter that fills my life. They have been my biggest fans and supporters. Of course, I must also say a huge “Thank You” to my husband, Randy Collar, for allowing me the freedom and time to sit in front of my computer and get lost in my fantasy world.
Last, but never least, I would like to thank God for placing all of these wonderful people in my life and for giving me the precious gift of storytelling.
About the Author
C. L. Collar is a down-to-earth country girl who has lived most of her life in small town America. She has a passion for laughter and a strong love of God and family. Cathy was introduced to the world of magic and poetry, by her mother at a very young age through the book, Silver Pennies, and fell in love with fanciful writing, She shares much of her work on her blogs. You can also friend her on facebook. She presently lives in Darrouzett, Texas, with her husband and a very extensive furry family.
Other Works by
C. L. Collar
The McCory Chronicles:
Katie McCory and the Dagger of Truth
Finding Fey: A Book of Fairy Tales
BLOGS BY C. L COLLAR:
https://creationsmystique.blogspot.com/
https://annas-legacy.blogspot.com/
https://www.mccorychronicles.blogspot.com/
FRIEND C. L. COLLAR ON FACEBOOK:
https://www.facebook.com/cathy.collar
https://www.facebook.com/CLCollar
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