jacebelikov:

Fairy Tales Retold | Beauty and the Beast

Belle didn’t remember much about that night, but she remembered enough. Her father had been acting strange for weeks, and her sisters were more wicked than usual. He would go out for nights and days without returning home and without telling them where he had been. Her sisters, older and wiser, could think about theories, but Belle, being eight at the time, could only cry at night on her room, thinking that her dad had replaced them for another woman that wasn’t her mother. The truth was much worse than her naïve mind could think of. Of course, nowadays that she was older and wiser, every single piece made sense: their kitchen with no food, their clothes timeworn and dirty; no more jewelry for her sisters, no more flowers for her. Her dad’s gambling problems had caught them, and now there was no other option except trying to find money quickly. Belle didn’t know her father owed for the local circus owner. She also didn’t know the way her father had found to not be punished for his debts was to sell his youngest daughter to him. They came for her at night. But once she was there, they felt sorry for her. It wasn’t their fault her father was such a weak man. They raised her and took care of her. And when she was old enough to perform, they gave her a tent for her psych reading. She was called Beauty. The whole city came to see her, to see her gift and her magnificence. Only later, when she was sixteen, the owner came to talk to her in person. She had never seen him before, but she had heard of him: he had a deformity that gave him the name of Beast and that made him work in a freak show for years, until he could escape and start his own show. He apologized for having separated her from her family years ago, but she told him that she was happier this way; her sister were mean to her, and her dad didn’t love her. He smiled, and she didn’t understand about the mutation her friends had spoken to her about. He looked perfect to Belle.

(Source: suzesimons)