REM // Van McCann

64. The Frog Prince

The air smelled of earth, the grass, and dirt. There was the sound of running water in the distance and I opened my eyes to see where I was. I was lying on the grass so I got up and brushed the grass from my bum. Looking around once again, I could see a small stream leading to a lake. This place looked like it was straight out of a fairytale with the golden sunlight and wildflowers. Something was drawing me towards the water so I walked towards it. It wasn't until I reached the water that I started hearing voices. At first, I thought I was imagining it but the longer I listened, I realized I wasn't alone so I ducked down low and made my way towards the sound.

I parted the tall grass and looked ahead. There were two figures sat on a large rock with their backs to me. I instantly recognized one of the figures as Florence. You could easily recognize her blonde, wavy hair from the back and she was wearing a dress like one would wear in fairytales. Her attire wasn't that of a rich person but one of a working maid but she wore a crown on her head. The jagged edges rose towards the sky and every time she moved her head, the sun reflected off the jewels.

It bothered me that I didn't recognize the person she was sitting next to. Whoever she was, she was wearing a witch's hat and a black dress. Her hat was very pointy. I'm surprised it can hold its shape despite sitting tall.

"So you're telling me I get three wishes?" Florence asked, turning to face her.

"What do I look like? A genie?" the witch asked. "I'm a witch. I don't grant wishes. I cast spells." Florence held her hands up. It was obvious she didn't mean to upset the witch.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend you. I was hoping you could help me."

"And what is it that you need help with?"

Florence paused and then turned around. I quickly ducked down. It was clear she knew she was dreaming and was looking for me. Thank God there was a breeze or else she'd know I was hiding in the grass. The amount of time it takes to find each other in dreams varies. She must think she has time because she answered.

"I'm so confused about love," she said quietly. She looked around again. She was paranoid that I was listening in on her conversation which I am but she doesn't need to know that. The witch cackled.

"What's so confusing about love?" the witch asked. "If you're confused, it's because your mind is telling you one thing but your heart is saying something else. Perhaps you need to turn off your mind and listen to your heart. What is it telling you?"

"That's the problem! I don't know! Isn't there some magic you can do?" You could hear the desperation in her voice and the witched smiled deviously.

"You want to know who he is, don't you?" the witch teased. She was putting out the bait and Florence was the poor fish falling for it. She nodded her head wordlessly. "Well then...if you want to know who he is, get me a frog."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Get me a frog from the lake."

"How—"

"Do you want my help or no?" the witch snapped and Florence closed her mouth.

Using both hands to support her, she slowly got off the rock and onto the dirt. Her boots kicked up some dirt which the wind carried away and she stepped towards the edge of the lake and looked around for a frog. You could hear them earlier but now that Florence was looking for one, they were quiet. There was a log in the middle of the lake with a lone frog sitting on it. It stared at her with its beady eyes and croaked.

"How am I supposed to catch a frog?" Florence asked. "Can't you use your magic to catch it?"

"What's the fun in that? I'd rather see you work for it. How bad do you want it?"