The Queen's Riddle: A Faery Story

The Broken Promise

Promises and piecrusts are made to be broken. - Jonathan Swift

-Eleven years later-

Nora dropped two black garbage bags stuffed with all of her belongings at the foot of the child-sized bed. So this is my new bedroom, she thought to herself.

The once-white paint was now fading to a sickly yellow color. Dusty light streamed through a small window, reflecting off the vanity mirror. The worn down blankets heaped on the bed made her wonder how many other foster kids had slept there before her, crying into that same pillow, feeling abandoned and betrayed by the people who were supposed to be their family.Nora was no stranger to betrayal. It was like knife in your stomach ... one that you could never quite get out.

Digging into her back pocket, Nora reached for the letter Dee handed her before dropping her off at the foster home. Dee was always what Nora called her mom since she was a kid. Ever since the endless stream of foster homes and new schools began, all because Dee didn't have the time to raise her daughter. Anger swelled in Nora's stomach as she stared at the folded up note in her hands. Trying to hold back her anger, Nora unfolded the crumpled up note written in smeared blue ink.

Nora,

I can't tell you how sorry I am that you living with me didn't work out. I told myself I'd never lose you again after I found you in foster care and took you back home. I was so stupid for leaving you alone at the mall when you were little. I deserved to have you taken away. I really thought I could raise you right this time. I guess I was wrong again. All I know is you deserve better than what I can give you right now. I'll be by to check on you. I promise. I love you, baby girl. Be strong.

Love,

Mom

Hot tears streamed down Nora's face as she read the letter. A scream almost erupted from her lips but she squeezed her mouth shut and shook her head. There had been too many broken promises and she didn't need anymore. Lying down on the bed, she curled herself into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest.

She clutched the letter in front of her, the only tangible thing left of Dee. Nora knew she would most likely never see her again.

"It's all lies," Nora whispered between muffled sobs as she read over the words "love" and "promise" again. "You don't love me," she said between gritted teeth. Nora quieted for a moment, but the anger was creeping up her throat. "You don't leave your kid if you love them!" Nora screamed, not caring who else in the house could hear her. The pain was just too much to hold in. "You don't come into my life after leaving me and leave again!"

Fresh tears spilled out of her eyes and the familiar feeling of abandonment settled over her like a heavy blanket. Nora gripped the edge of the pillow, her face turning crimson as she tried to stifle a scream, she felt like her insides were bursting into a thousand different pieces, like a mirror shattering.

Her bedroom door creaked open and Nora choked on a sob. She brushed back strands of golden blonde hair, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Rhonda, a middle-aged woman with a tired but caring face stood in the doorway. At least she looked nicer than Nora's other foster moms. "You okay, dear?"she asked taking a step closer but staying a safe distance away. Nora imagined she must look like a wild animal, hair coming loose from her ponytail and black eyeliner streaming down from her yellow-green eyes.

"I'm fine," Nora muttered. "I just need to be alone."

"Okay. Well, help yourself to the fridge if you get hungry. And I wanted to bring you these." Rhonda sat a box of Kleenex on the bed and tapped them with her finger. "There's more in the hallway closet if you run out."

"Thanks." Nora grabbed a tissue and dabbed at her puffy eyes as Rhonda exited the room.

Nora sat up on the bed and rested her chin on her knees. She took one last look at the note and her eyes fell on the words "baby girl." Whatever rational part that was left of her snapped. She ripped the letter in two, and then again, and again until she had a pile of white confetti on her bed. In one angry sweep of her hand, she grabbed the scraps of paper and then threw open the window beside the bed. "I'm not your baby girl anymore!" she screamed as she tossed the pieces of paper to the wind, watching them scatter. "And you will never be my mom."