Quaking Tower

By L. J. Gastineau

You don’t have to dwell in a tower to be isolated.

Cybele Lockley should know. To say that she lived a sheltered life would be an understatement. For as long as she could remember, she had been stuck in a rural house in the middle of nowhere, separated from the world due to a medical condition. Her only company was her grandmother, and just in the morning and the evenings. During the day, she was forbidden to leave the house or even look out the tiny windows. Longing to be free of the isolation, Cybele created a make-believe world in an old notebook, filled with the romance and adventure of a character based on the fairy tale of Rapunzel.
She thought it was just a story...

Everything changes when she attempts to cut her hair for the first time. The room spins, her tawny colored locks grew to nearly three times its original length, the house is transformed into a woodland cottage, and the landscape morphs to resemble an imaginary setting from her notebook. Now she must work find her true reality – and in doing so must assume the role of her make-believe heroine and complete a quest to find a crystal rose.

This Rapunzel isn’t just letting down her hair.

• Language: English
• Publisher: L. J. Gastineau
• Release date: Sep 11, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301231430

L. J. Gastineau

L J Gastineau lives in Saint Augustine, Florida and is a graduate of the University of Central Florida. She is one of three authors for the website, TrinityGateways.net. She recently published Frozen Reflection, the first book for her young adult series, The Crystal Garden Saga.LJ has also published a short horror story entitled, Doll’s House published in the anthology, Shadows of the Mind.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way! She had been caught.

The harsh stones scrapped against her fragile skin as she tried to flee. She knew it wasn’t safe to stay or even attempt to reason. Something was wrong. If she didn’t get away, she would be trapped forever. She ignored her sliced palms, the bloody streaks staining the tower wall; her prison.

Images of a tender gaze, warm with life burrowed deep into her heart. She couldn’t surrender. She had already seen the world. To turn away she would only be giving into her captivity, denying her heart of what it longed for; freedom. She could never go back to the way things were. The blindness to everything that she thought had only existed in her mind. She would rather die than give up her dreams to experience everything she had been forbidden for so long.

The world shook around her. Stones came crashing down, threatening to end what little life she had begun to live.

No! She refused to let her fate be sealed again. Not back to the lonely isolation. A name was caught in her throat, tears blurred her vision. She was so close!

Her dress snagged on a sharp edge. As she yanked, she lost her footing, falling to her death.

CHAPTER 2

Cybele, dear. It’s time to wake up.

Forest green eyes fluttered open with a groan. May I please have ten more minutes?

The elderly woman chuckled, shaking her head. The tightly woven bun did not even twitch with the movement. No, I am afraid not. You have work you need to do. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.

Cybele Lockley pouted, but sat up. She pushed away her long tangle of tawny brown waves from her face. If you insist. Thank you.

The woman departed, leaving the young woman alone. Cybele sat up rubbing at her eyes; the dream was a vague image in her foggy mind. She hated mornings. All she wanted was to sleep in just a bit longer, but was never given the luxury. Her grandmother always woke her up at 7am sharp.

Her eyes darted to her tiny bedside table. Relief washed over her face to find her old leather bound notebook had been tucked away in its secret place. Grandmother frowned on her granddaughter using her imagination, calling it a bunch of nonsense. Whenever Cybele questioned things, she was always shut down. The past was to be left alone. It was not worth fretting over.

If that was the case then why did she have to study world history?

Cybele cared for her grandmother, but often wished she’d lighten up. The woman was far too strict for her own good. Arguing led to hurt feelings, and being grounded, not that Cybele could do much outside of read and draw. Those were the only activities she was allowed in the tiny house.

She rose from her bed, peeking through the curtains at the trees a few feet away. She could hear happy birds singing their joyful songs. She longed to join them. Pushing the idea out of her head she pulled the dim blue material back over the window. She would have been in trouble if her grandmother had caught her.

Cybele had been told that she was very sick and had to remain in the house at all times. She also had to keep all the drapes closed and was not allowed to sing; otherwise she could die. She was also forbidden from cutting her own hair. Cybele frowned at her messy waves. She always puzzled over why the ends looked uneven, but her grandmother never gave her an answer. At least it wasn’t too unmanageable. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to try to even them out. At least it wasn’t too noticeable especially when she braided it.

Cybele!

She gritted her teeth then changed quickly. She didn’t want to have to endure another lecture on daydreaming.

Cybele glanced at the mirror for a moment to adjust the ribbon of her pale yellow dress. She frowned at her hair, wishing there was some way to make it look better. With a sigh she quickly wove it into a braid then departed from her tiny room, dashing down the stairs.

There you are! What took you so long? Her grandmother remarked in disapproval as she set a bowl of oatmeal with fresh fruit down on the table. She narrowed her dark gray eyes as the girl.

Cybele wrinkled her nose at it, but took her seat, spooning up a tiny bit of the lumpy breakfast. She hated the texture more than the bland flavor. Even the strawberries did nothing to improve the taste. Making a fuss would only infuriate the old woman so Cybele choked down the oatmeal as best as she could.

Don’t you like it, dear?

It’s good, Cybele lied. She knew from experience that if the answer she provided was negative, her grandmother would make her go hungry for the rest of the day in order to make her appreciate what she was given. The last time that happened, Cybele ended up with the worst headache ever. All she could do was ignore the pain as best she could, crying herself to sleep in the process.

Her grandmother smiled, patting her short wavy white hair into place. I am glad, child. Do not forget, you have math and English work to finish today.

I remember.

I must go into town to do some more shopping. I want you to finish all your assignments before I get back. I shall leave behind a list. There should be plenty of food for you to find something for lunch.

Cybele nodded, shoveling more oatmeal in her mouth. She tried not to make a face as she swallowed. I understand.

Do not leave the house under any circumstances. The woman warned sharply, tossing her coat on over the long dark frock she tended to favor. If anyone comes to the door ignore them. We cannot risk you falling ill. You are much too precious to me.

I will be fine, Cybele assured the elderly woman. Have a good day.

Her grandmother kissed the girl’s forehead, gathered her bag, and departed.

Cybele shoved her half empty bowl away, glaring at the remains. She rose from her seat then grabbed a pear from the fruit bowl. She sighed in bliss at the fruit’s sweetness. She didn’t understand how her grandmother could stand food that was so flavorless. It didn’t matter what it was, for some reason whatever she made tasted like paste.

She picked up the piece of paper listing all the things she was expected to accomplish for the day. At the very top was math. She hated math. Anything that lacked creativity bore her to tears. Unfortunately that was most of the projects her grandmother assigned her.

Cybele flipped her braid over her shoulder scowling at the paper. Why must she include all these boring tasks? Well, the sooner I begin the more I’ll be able to do as I wish afterwards. Now first things first…

She picked up her bowl of oatmeal, took it to the bathroom, dumped the remains and flushed it. She would have to find something more palatable for lunch later. At least now she wouldn’t have to stare at the disgusting concoction any longer. It was a shame that the strawberries had been smashed before they were mixed in the hot cereal. She would have rescued them before tossing the breakfast. Maybe she would have some later for lunch if there were any left.

Cybele washed the dishes then headed back to her room to start on her schoolwork. Every once in a while she would peek out the tiny window wishing for the day she could leave her dull world behind.

CHAPTER 3

Cybele hummed to herself as she made her bed. Her schoolwork as well as the other chores were still left uncompleted. She wasn’t too concerned. After all, there was plenty of time before her grandmother was to return home.

Her mind drifted off to her story. She pondered how best to continue the scene. So far she was stuck trying to determine what would happen next to her heroine. Perhaps she could have an encounter with the evil witch? Or maybe…

Cybele was so lost in her thoughts that as she spun around she tripped over a book that sent her stumbling. She screeched struggling to maintain her balance. She gritted her teeth, catching herself on her desk. The impact of her forced weight knocked the mug of pencils over dumping out the contents including a shiny green-handled pair of scissors.

Her eyes narrowed in contemplation. The questions swirling around the tale she had been writing in her journal faded like a dream. Instead she stared at the scissors. Something about them seemed to call to her.

She didn’t understand why her grandmother refused to let her cut her hair. All she wanted to do was fix the butchered ends. They were so uneven that she felt like she would go insane if she had to look at them one more day!

I doubt she would notice. Then again… she argued with herself. After a moment’s hesitation, she picked up the sheers and bit her lip. She really shouldn’t. Her grandmother would be furious if she found out. However if Cybele kept her hair braided all the time, perhaps the old woman wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

She shifted her eyes to the window, sighed. If the old woman had it her way, Cybele would live in that tiny house with her forever. It would only be a small amount. She wasn’t planning on chopping it all off or anything.

Cybele took the scissors to the bathroom then undid her braid. She chewed on her lip, studying her brown tresses. Just cut enough to even it out; that is all.

She took a deep breath as she clenched her jaw tight. It was now or never. With a shaky hand she snipped a small portion that was longer than the rest. She watched, stunned as the severed hair fell to the sink. Well, that was not so bad.

Felling braver, she trimmed the rest. Once finished, Cybele set down the scissors as she inspected her handiwork. Her hair had never looked better she decided. Perhaps she would leave it down until an hour before her grandmother usually returned home.

Grinning, Cybele cleaned up her mess, careful to make certain all evidence had been disposed of. Satisfied she pranced off to her room to hide the scissors.

Before she made it there however her head felt strange, almost as though the room were spinning. She managed to make it to the doorway then collapsed. What’s wrong with me?

As she lifted her head she was horrified to discover that her hair was twice as long as it previously was. Pushing away the nausea that tried to consume her, she crawled to her room, with the sheers still in her grasp then slid them under the bed before falling unconscious.

CHAPTER 4

What… happened? Cybele murmured as she opened her eyes. She blinked in shock at the sight of the floor covered in her hair. She pushed herself upright then almost screamed. Her hair was virtually three times the length it formerly was!

How? Why? She stumbled to her feet, careful not to step on her extra long locks. Her mind flooded with images of a tower before slipping away. Cybele gathered up her hair then raced to her closet where she stashed her notebook. A panicked sensation swam through her mind, filling her body with adrenaline. Something else was very off. A dream… this has to be a dream.

Resisting the urge to chop off the extra length, she instead tied it into a braid the best she could, wrapping it several times into a bun, making a very odd hairstyle with lots of loops; anything to keep it off the ground. Satisfied, she raced to the lone place she had never set foot in; her grandmother’s room.

She tried the door, but found it locked. Her heart pounded. She had no clue why she wanted to go inside. However if she was still dreaming there should have been no harm. With that thought in mind Cybele turned on her heel, paused. Should she?

Her desire to experience the outdoors was too much. She didn’t know how long she had left of her dream anyway. Her grandmother could wake her