The Toad and The Princess

The haze of sunrise barely broke through the dark shadow surrounding Mari’s high school. Like ants to a nest, students trudged through the cold fog of an autumn dawn. Mari Ho trudged just a little slower than the rest. She knew once the fluorescent lights of the building hit her face, she’d have to hide it all. She’d have to hide the redness on her cheeks and around her eyes from crying on the drive to school. She’d have to hide the bags under her eyes from not getting enough sleep. She’d have to hide her anger at her parents—at her world. 

That particular morning had been rough. After a long evening of work, she stayed up late writing essays, reading textbooks, studying for quizzes, and struggling through calculus homework. Then she woke up late. Mari’s mom screamed at her all morning for not getting up in time to make breakfast and lunches for the whole family. 

Every morning it was something, though. Even if Mari thought she had taken care of everything, there was still room for critique. There was still room for her mom to remind her that she never even wanted her in the first place. 

Mari paused in front of the glass doors and metal detectors leading into the school. She took a deep breath and plastered a smile onto her face. She had read somewhere that if you carry a fake smile long enough, sooner or later it becomes a real one. Either way, her smile was real enough for the people in the school. As she walked through, a few people stopped to say hi. Mari would ask them about their days, their activities, about their mental health. No one thought to ask Mari how she was doing, though. 

The bells signaling homeroom began to ring out. Mari picked up her pace to get there in time. The biology teacher snapped at her to slow down. Finally, she arrived at her homeroom, slightly out of breath. 

“You’re late Miss Ho,” Mr. Espinoza, one of the algebra teachers, retorted without even looking up from his computer. The blue glow under his face lit it up in such a sinister manner. 

Mari’s fellow students snickered at how Mr. Espinoza said Mari’s name. She heard whispers of “he called her a hoe,” and other variations. She wanted nothing more to shut all of them up, but she took another deep breath. 

“I’m sorry Mr. Espinoza. I made it just after the bell, though.” 

“Do not talk back to me, Miss Ho. I hope you’re ready to spend lunch in detention.” The students were laughing harder now. The beginnings of tears stung Mari’s eyes. They all sounded like a bunch of hyenas.  

Mari just nodded and took her seat. 

Suddenly, the morning announcements rang out over the loudspeaker. The principal read out some quote about positivity, followed by the pledge, and finally came the announcements for Homecoming court. Names blended together to Mari, who was staring down at her desk, trying to maintain a happy face. 

Mari was broken out of her stupor by cheering from the others in the class. A couple hands materialized and patted her on the back. She looked around, trying to piece together what was going on. 

One person, his name was Neil, smiled at her, “Congrats Mari!” 

Stupidly, Mari responded “For what?” 

Everyone laughed again. “On being one of the homecoming princesses!” 

During the walk to her calculus class people kept stopping her to tell her that they voted for her, that they hoped she’d be nominated, that they couldn’t believe she was one of the princesses. Mari, being Mari, kept her happy face plastered on and wondered if this was what princesses in fairy tales felt like. Having to put on a serene face for one’s subjects while you’re crumbling apart. Mari marveled at the fact that not one of them actually cared about her. Sure, they might have voted for her, but she was sure that if she let down her facade, they’d drop her within the blink of an eye. 

She made it through the throngs of congratulatory students to her calculus class, sitting in her seat near the front of the room. Ms. Walker stood up to begin passing out the quizzes. Mari wasn’t ready for the quiz. She knew it fully well. There was so little time for her to study and the stress of taking care of her family on top of the events of that morning compounded on top of each other. It all began to overwhelm Mari. Her parents using her like some kind of unwanted servant, Mr. Espinoza assuming the worst of her, the quiz she was sure to fail, everyone’s fake smiles. It was too much. 

“Ms. Walker can I go get some water?” 

Ms. Walker breathed in as if getting ready to tell her the classic teacher line: You should’ve gone during homeroom. Something in Mari’s face gave her pause. Could everyone see her falling apart? 

“Okay, Mari, do what you need.” Ms. Walker nodded and then went back to handing out quizzes. 

Mari stumbled out of the class and to the water fountain down the hall. She stood silently over the fountain, letting her tears fall into it. 

Before she realized what was going on, the fountain began to rumble. Water shot three feet high out of the faucet, throwing Mari back. The water from the fountain sparkled and gave off blue light as it cast itself in the shape of a beautiful woman. Her hair flowed like a river behind her and her dress pooled around her like a glimmering pond. Suddenly the being smiled and stretched a hand down toward Mari. 

“Hello Princess, what is it you seek?” 

Mari could barely manage any words. “Who are you?” She whispered. 

“I am the Fairy of the Fountain.” If a person’s voice could sound like a babbling brook, hers did. “All fountains are my domain,” she began explaining, “I couldn’t ignore the tears of a princess falling in my domain.” 

Mari opened her mouth to say she wasn’t a princess, but then she realized. Homecoming. She was a Homecoming princess.

“So, I can wish for something?” 

The Fairy of the Fountain made a face. “Do I look like a genie to you?” She composed herself a bit. “I mean, wishes aren’t exactly my thing. I will hear your problem and offer you a gift in return. You get to choose whether or not you’ll accept my gift.” 

“Oh. Sorry. It’s not one problem so much as it’s just my whole life. My parents never even wanted me. My ‘friends’ like me for something I’m not. I’m constantly working for little to no return. I just really want to escape this life.” 

“Escape? Oh that’s something I can do. But I must warn you, magic comes at a price.” 

“What do you mean?”

The Fairy of the Fountain looked down at her with translucent, shimmering eyes. “Here is my gift to you. You have a good soul and deserve a chance at a better life. I can transport you into another world, one where life is simpler and you can be happy. The only price is that you will not be a human in this world. You will remain a toad until-” 

“I’ll do it.” 

“I have not even finished.” 

“I mean I’ll let you finish but this sounds like a great deal so far. I get out of this world and I don’t have to deal with the problems of being a human? Sign me up.” 

The fairy sighed. “Alright then. You shall live in the world of your dreams as a toad until you receive the kiss of royalty, after which you will return to your human form.” 

“Why is it always a kiss?”

“Do you want to go to your dream world or not?” 

Mari looked at the bleak halls of her school and thought of the bleak life that awaited her. 

“Yes. I accept your gift.”

The blue glow intensified around the Fairy of the Fountain, until it was almost blinding. Her musical voice reverberated, “Mari Ho, I give you the gift of your dream world.” The air around Mari vibrated with a strange energy. The light engulfed her and suddenly it felt like she was falling. Just as quickly, Mari felt a hard stop. 

Mari looked around her. Everything seemed so tall— even the blades of grass came up higher than her head. Before her lay a vast (probably not that vast to humans) glittering pond covered in lily pads. Trees, impossibly massive, stretched on above Mari, sheltering the pond from the outside world. 

She smiled, if toads could even smile. For the first time, she felt truly at peace. There were no expectations, no jobs, no need to pretend. She was a toad, and toad problems are a lot more manageable than human problems. Sure, Mari had to eat some insects, but she’d always wanted to try chocolate covered bugs anyway, as she’d heard they were great sources of protein. To her toad mouth, they tasted delicious. The hopping took some adjusting. Just the smallest contraction in her muscles sent her shooting forward and upward to heights (proportional to her) that she’d never manage as a human. 

And so, Mari lived on for the next five years as a toad, and she loved every second of it. 

It was after those five years that suddenly a girl appeared in the forest. She was stumbling. The girl clearly couldn’t see very well—Mari supposed it was due to the tears coming down her face—because her light brown hair was full of twigs and leaves, her hands were covered in scrapes, and her dress was full of rips. Finally, the girl collapsed by the pond, staring into the water at her own face. Mari wondered why humans seemed to like looking at their faces while crying. Maybe it made them feel less alone in their sadness. 

Knowing that no one deserved to be alone with their sorrow, Mari hopped over toward the girl and stared at her. The girl didn’t notice. 

Mari thought about it for a moment. Plenty of toads just stare at humans. She needed to do something different. So she put as much strength as she could into a single hop and leapt toward the girl’s head, caught one of the twigs from her hair in her mouth, and then landed to the side. The girl looked up for a moment in shock, then shook her head as if shaking off the notion that the toad before her could’ve done that on purpose. 

Mari did it again, this time pulling a leaf from her hair, and again with another twig. The girl looked up and stopped crying for a moment in surprise. 

“Are you cleaning my hair?” The girl asked in amazement. Mari had to catch her breath at the sight of the girl’s eyes trained on her. Even through the tears and redness, the girl’s eyes were the most shocking golden color Mari had ever seen. Mari tilted her head to the side, hoping the girl would understand her inquisitive look. 

“Oh, you’re wondering what I’m doing here, aren’t you?” The girl reached up to wipe the tears off of her face. “If I’m being honest, I don’t even know where here is. I just started running and didn’t stop. I knew no one would find me in this forest.” 

Mari blinked at the girl. 

“You’re probably wondering why I ran here in the first place. Promise me you won’t laugh?”

Mari blinked again. 

“My parents decided to marry me off. I know I have a duty to my people and all, and I’m already 22, but I always wanted to marry for love, you know? I don’t even know how to tell my parents that I,” she paused, her voice growing shakier as tears threatened to resurface. Mari hopped onto the girl’s knee, hoping it would make her feel less alone. The girl’s tears started to pour out again, “I don’t know how to tell them that I don’t even feel attracted to men.” She buried her face in her hands as tears shook her body. 

Mari nuzzled the girl’s leg. 

The girl gave Mari a small smile through her tears, “You’re a good listener, Toad.” 

The girl continued to return to Mari’s pond. She referred to Mari as ‘Toad,” and would often talk to Mari, about her problems, about her joys, and about life. Sometimes she would bring sweets to Mari. Sometimes the girl would swim in the pond, and her hair would turn into a lovely halo when it touched the water. Other times, the girl would bring a book to read to Mari. 

And with every day that Mari sat with the girl, Mari grew to love the girl more and more. She spent her nights awake with excitement at the thought of seeing the girl again by the pond. One day, after about a month’s worth of visits, the girl finally introduced herself to Mari. 

“Oh yeah, you don’t know my name, do you Toad?” She smiled up at the slivers of sunlight peeking through the canopy of trees, “I’m Juliette Shortwall. I’m a princess, but that probably means nothing to you. To you I’m just another human.” Juliette lay down, resting her head on her hands. “I like that. Just being another human to you.” She paused again, then turned to look at Mari. “I wish I knew your name, Toad. I feel bad that I refer to you only as Toad.” Mari tried to get her body to shrug. She was just happy she finally had a name for her princess. Juliette. Of course, a girl like her deserved a beautiful name like Juliette. 

The two of them continued to live on together in peace like that—Juliette would visit every couple of days and Mari would always be there waiting for her. Mari knew that her time with Juliette was limited, though. Juliette was supposed to marry some prince from another kingdom. Mari would get angry at the thought of it—at the thought that someone one day would take Juliette away from her. 

  That day came within the year. Juliette had come to the pond, out of breath. “I had to get away, Toad. He’s horrible.” Juliette was laughing, though. 

Juliette’s laugh grew more and more bright. “You wouldn’t believe it, he acted as though I was just a piece of furniture he was getting out of this deal with our kingdom.” Juliette picked up Mari and looked into her eyes, “But I’ve decided. I’m not going to marry him. No one knows about this pond. I can hide here with you forever. This forest has plenty I can survive on. It’ll be just the two of us!” 

“The two of who?” A strange voice came from behind Juliette. She paled. 

“How did you find me?” Juliette turned to face the man. 

“Don’t worry, no one followed me. I’m the only one who knows you’re here.” Mari wasn’t sure, but something about the way he said those words was threatening. “What did you expect me to do? My betrothed was leaving in the middle of the festivities. I had to follow you.” 

He was walking forward toward Juliette the whole time. With each step he took forward, Juliette moved further back. Her back was against a tree and there was nowhere further for her to retreat. He forcefully grabbed her hair. “Now, what’s all this about avoiding our marriage?” 

Mari fumed at the sight of him touching Juliette’s hair like that. She leapt forward onto his face, sending him stumbling backward. He yanked Mari off of his face and threw her against a stone, knocking the breath out of her. Mari was sure she heard several bones in her snap. She collapsed on the ground, unable to move. 

Juliette’s eyes went wide. With space to move, she grabbed a nearby tree branch and struck the prince in the head, knocking him out. As soon as she was sure she was safe, she rushed to Mari’s side. 

“Little Toad, are you okay?” She cradled Mari in her hands. Tears began to rush down her cheeks. All Mari could think was how sad it was, that the last thing she’d ever see was her princess crying. “You saved me, Toad. Thank you.” Juliette hugged Mari’s small form to her chest as sobs began to move through her. “Thank you. Thank you.” She kept just repeating those words. And then she lifted Mari up to her face, and planted a kiss on her cheek. 

Suddenly, the blue light of the Fairy of the Fountain surrounded Mari. Some invisible force lifted her body into the air as the magic swirled around her. Juliette looked on in wonder as suddenly the form of her small toad friend transformed before her eyes into a human girl with black hair falling down her back and dark brown eyes smiling at her. 

Mari, on the other hand, was mortified. She was fully naked in front of Juliette. Still, she couldn’t help but smile. Mari was human and she could finally hug Juliette, and talk to Juliette, and tell Juliette she loved her. Mari reached down to grab the coat off of the prince lying on the ground, put it on, and then turned back to face Juliette. 

“Toad, is that you?” Juliette ventured. Suddenly her face turned bright red, “Or, I guess, you probably don’t want to be called Toad anymore do you?” 

Mari laughed and wrapped her arms around Juliette in the tightest, most love-filled hug she could manage. “My name’s Mari, but you can call me whatever you want.”