She was hypnotized to do so by some creepy writer who thought it was soo literary-like to dictate a lady whose only claim to distinction was her fair smooth skin and long golden locks.
As scripted, she patiently waited by the window, Day in and Day out...
She hoped PC would arrive someday on a White Horse (Which aptly makes her a bit racist!) and help escape her moribund existence.
Of course, she wasn’t sure what kind of life PC might provide her once she hops on to sidesaddle him. But the fact that she didn’t know how to clean or cook kept her confidence high and expectations low.
More or less, the future was bound to be better out there on the wrong side of window.
Holding all these reasons in her empty head safe, she persisted.
In the meantime, PC took a lengthy detour and got killed in the ensuing freak accident which involved his horse and a mare.
End result: He didn’t show up.
The poor Princess, unaware of this bone-breaking news, kept her faith.
While she was at it, she lost some weight too. No one bothered though as she wasn’t suffering from anorexia.
Besides, the worst that could happen was some modeling agency landing up at her doorstep and window-shopping her. It didn’t matter who rescued her as long as she was loved by the idea of freedom. Whatever that means.
Meanwhile, weeks grew into months and months got substituted by years and eventually time lost track of itself.
Neverthemore, the frail Princess was still lonely with no Twitter timeline to pour her frustration on nor Facebook friends to photoshop her emotions with.
It was advisable to learn something new like cooking, gardening or knitting but she simply wasn’t interested.
Her thoughts were with PC (who should have been alive had he respected equine privacy) and prayed the feeling was mutual.
One afternoon, a frog enters the story timeline and startled her.
He croaked, “Sweetheart, this is me – the one you’ve been waiting for all these years.”
On witnessing a frog that spoke fluent English, the Princess turned pale and was about to faint before she blurted out, “Are you my PC?”
This abbreviated question knotted frog’s long tongue and infuriated him, “Now who the fcuk is PC?”
Having a pair of ears that weren’t subject to harsh words, she got scared and instantly replied, “Prince Charming!”
The frog smiled like they aren’t supposed to on Animal Planet and was relieved to say, “Yeah! That dude’s me.”
There was a long awkward silence and a longer staring contest between the two before the restless frog interrupted: “Well, this is the part where you kiss me and we live happily ever after.”
Taking the cue, she lifted him up on her soft palm and closed her to eyes to oblige. At this very instance, the inevitable happened.
She turned into a frogess and there was no way to go back other than live croakily ever after.
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