His Fairytale, My Folklore

“Mommy,” a voice whispered. “You have to wake up.”
I groaned. “I’m up, I’m up.”
“Then get up,” the voice huffed.
“Okay,” I said, sitting up and opening my eyes. “I’m up, happy?”
Terrence smiled and nodded his head enthusiastically. “Uh-huh!”
I yawned, stretching my arms behind my back and arching it as I did so. I rolled my neck then, got out of bed. I grabbed Terrence and placed him on my right hip, ignoring the slight pain I still felt from the bullet wound. It settled as a dull throb as I shifted him a bit.
I kissed his forehead as I went down stairs, thankful it was the weekend, so I didn’t have to deal with retarded spies in training that won’t stay the Hell out of my business. I set Terrence down on the counter, leaning against it with my hands on either side of him.
“What would we like for breakfast?”
He looked up at the ceiling as if it held all the answers. “Waffles.”
“Waffles, huh?” I asked with a smile. “I think I can do that. Would you like to help?”
“Please.”
I told him to wait a second then walked over to the broom closet to get the stepping stool out so he could stand next to me. I took out all the things I would need for waffles and set them on the island. Terrance climbed up onto the stepping stool after I took him off of the counter.
I put container of flour in front of him and then a measuring cup. He took the measuring cup and got it full of flour. I scraped the excess off and he dumped it in the mixing bowl.
“Mommy,” he said as he got another cup full. “I want some juice.”
“What kind of juice?” I asked, scraping the excess flour off.
“Grape.”
I went over to the fridge and grabbed a Grape Juice Box. He giggled and took it from me, but I took it back and opened it.
“Can I go wake everyone up?”
“Yes, but leave the juice down here.”
“Okay, mommy.”
He put the juice on the counter and got off the stepping stool carefully. He ran to the stairs, only stopping to say hello to Valentine. Valentine chuckled as he watched Terrence run up the stairs. I turned around just as Valentine did.
I turned back and continued to make the waffles; I could feel his eyes on me. “What,” I snapped, mixing all the ingredients together.
“We need to talk.”
I turned to look at him. “Why?” I asked, a hurt look most likely on my face. “Every time I want to, you seem to get pissed off and walk away, which ends with me pissed off at you, but then Terrence asks about you and I see how happy you make him, and then I remember how happy you make me, which pretty much pisses me off again,” I said quickly, glaring at you. “But not at you, at me, for being that love sick girl.” I took a deep breath, trying to stop the tears. “That damn love sick girl that I hate,” I started, not caring about the tears. “The one that every girl says they won’t turn into to, but then a guy like you comes around, it brings the butterflies, the blushing and the self-consciousness, and every girl hates you for making them feel like that after it’s all done and over with.”
I wiped the tears away, mad at myself for letting him get to me. I turned back to the waffle mix, mixing it before moving the stepping stool so I could grab the whiskey off of the fridge. I stepped down and it was ripped out of my hands.
“Drinking won’t help!”
I gave a sarcastic laugh. “You do know how to make Belgian Waffles, right? You need whiskey, dip shit.”
“How do I know that?”
“Because it’s true,” Carlos said from behind the door. “And she hasn’t drank since you left. Not that she ever drank that much.”
He reluctantly held it out to me and I took it with a sarcastic smile. I poured a bit in and I started to mix it again, making it the right consistency to pour into the waffle maker. Carlos bumped Valentine out of the way and grabbed the waffle maker out for me.
“Go talk to him, I’ve got this.”
“Please,” I begged silently. “Don’t.”
“You have to.”
I pushed back the tears as I walked to the back door, hoping Valentine wasn’t following me, but I knew he was. I bit my lip as I heard him shut the door. I laced my fingers together as my hands started to shake and I leaned against the railing on the patio.
“Talk,” I said with a frightenly calm voice.
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Make it seem like I only think of myself as the victim?”
“Because you do!” I yelled. “That’s all you fucking do! You were off killing my sister while I’m stuck here, with six kids, two angsty gays and your family hounding me for information about your whereabouts when I don’t even know for myself if you’re fucking alive or dead! Did you even think about all of once when you took the God damn job, besides when you got those letters?”
“Of course I did!”
“Then why did you come back when I begged you to?!”
“You never sent me anything like that!” He took out two letters and slammed them down on the railing. I took them from him. “Those are the ones I got.”
“I sent you one ever week, since I knew where you were.”
“Well, I didn’t get them.”
“Obviously,” I snapped. “How many did you send?”
“Why?”
“Just tell me!”
“Two every week I was gone.”
“I got three.” My hands were shaking again. “Someone knows. They know, and I’m fucking screwed.”
“There you go with the cryptic again! Who the fuck cares if they find out?! No one knows about Gwen. And everyone who does is dead or trusted.”
I screamed when I felt a bullet go through my side. Valentine, not armed, grabbed me and got me inside quickly. He shut and locked the door before setting me down and running around the house, barking orders at people.
I was left on the ground, paralyzed by the feeling like I had months ago. I closed my eyes, pushing the feelings away before getting up with my hand pressed against my wound. I walked up the stairs, which thankfully, Nick was at the top of.
“Take the kids and Kelsey to my room. My closet has a passage to a safe place. It’s behind my shoes. Shut the door behind you and take some guns.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He moved quickly, not even hesitating. I winced when I pressed too hard on my wound. I saw Jackson and Valerie. “Follow him, both of you.”
They nodded hesitantly, knowing better than to defy me. I sat on the steps, only to be picked up by Joel a few minutes later. He walked down the steps quickly, just as Carlos hit the panic button by the door. Just like in crappy spy movie, the windows and doors were covered in steel that fell over them when the button was pushed.
“Fuck.” I yelled as Joel shifted me the wrong way. Valentine, Carlos, Trevor and Johnathan all looked at me. “Get this fucking bullet out of me!”

“We need to get out of here,” I said, ignoring the pain meds Carlos was trying to hand me. “We don’t know who knows what, but we know that they know who I am.”
“Who are you?” Trevor asked.
I licked my dry lips and looked at him with a sad smile. “A fairytale to all the little boys and girls who dream of being a spy. “ I paused, glancing at Valentine, who nodded his encouragement. “My name isn’t really Jen Morley. My name is Guinevere Ellie Young, and I’m a fairytale.”
The atmosphere was silent until Joel started cheering and pumping his first. “I knew it! I fucking knew it. When this is done, you owe me fifty bucks dad,” he smirked.
I rolled my eyes. “Awesome, now, out of here, let’s go.” I got off the table, ignoring the pain. “They probably stopped at the first part, so the kids didn’t get too worried.”
“What the fuck is in your passage?” Johnathan asked.
“A lot of things,” I said shrugging, going up the stairs.
I walked into my room and then to my closet. I pushed my shoes out of the way and kicked them so they looked like they were always like that. I pushed the wall, but grunted at the pain. Carlos moved me back, into Valentine’s arms. I shrugged them off, still not happy with him.
“Joel, Johnathan, go grab some light guns. We have no idea who is at the other side of the tunnel and we have no idea if you we can trust them.”
They nodded and left the closest to go grab the guns from my dresser. Carlos pushed against the wall and moved it right. I grabbed a few flash lights from a shoe box and gave one to Carlos and Trevor, keeping the last one in my hand. I grabbed Valentine’s hoodie that he left in my room once, and a new, clean, shirt. I stripped, not caring that my ex and his father were in the room. They were grown men, they could handle it. I stuffed the bloody shirt in an empty shoe box and quickly put the clean one on. Then, the hoodie.
“It’s chilly in there, if you want something, I would get it now, because I don’t know how long we’ll be in there.”
“What about the kids?” Valentine asked, taking another one of his hoodies I stole.
“I had emergency bags packed for them on the inside of the passage way. A few of my hoodies are gone, also telling me that everyone grabbed one as well. Anything else?” I snapped.
“No, ma’am,” he spat.
“Let’s go!” I yelled. “Turn off your cell phones and leave them on the bed. I have burn phones throughout the tunnel. Now,” I said as everyone threw their powered down phone onto my bed. “Let’s go.”

“Mommy!” I heard Terence yell. “I’m okay.”
“I see that,” I said with a smile as I stopped at the first rest stop in the tunnel. I looked at Nick. “I it wasn’t too hard to get them down the chutes.”
He chuckled. “They asked to do it again.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, they would.” I looked around at them. “You guys okay to go on?”
Savannah was the first to jump up. “Let’s get out of here.”
I nodded, “Okay, but I think I need to talk to everyone over the age of ten alone.” I looked at Carlos, who nodded and took the kids to the corned, where he started to talk about how the tunnel was once a part of a castle. “The reason we’re now all being hunted is because I’m not really Jen Morley.”
“Are you sure about this?” Kelsey asked.
“I’m really Guinevere Ellie Young, the fairytale to all spies.”
Nick gave out a grunt then pursed his lips. “Um, wow. I never even imaged meeting you, let alone being friends with you.”
“Me either,” Jackson said. “I still remember Joel telling me stories about you, and here you are, only a year older than me.”
“They won’t stop until they get what they want,” I continued, ignoring their comments. “I have no idea what they want. It could just be me dead, or it could be information.”
“Get me to the nearest computer and I can tell you who would have the clearance to know about you,” Savannah said.
“We already know who does; we just don’t know who would do it.”
“I can compile a list, with motives and opportunity.”
I clapped my hands. “Alright, let’s go.”