There’s No Place Like Home – Cinderella & The Wizard of Oz; a Love Story.

Dream | 11•17

He was a terrorist and said my face was ugly. My selfie didn’t look like me. I think that’s where the fire began to simmer the pot and I boiled over, not even realizing everyone was watching, especially Rob. But Rob wasn’t in the lead anymore, not in The Sound of Music – the outdoor Broadway show in the Big Apple. So, I didn’t care if he witnessed my tantrum or not.

I wasn’t the only one who got their ass handed to them. Lauren, my best friend, turned Maid of Honor, also was told she was ugly by Wassim. He was so disgusted by us, maybe due to our blatant love of self…tisk, tisk- risk.

I shouted out to him as he destroyed our phones with his bare hands, as shards of glass punctured his palms and Facebook, Instagram and all Social Media … Music, our only connection to the outside world, went dim. He threw them over board into the grey and tarnished, wet grass, now thawing from frost the night before. The dew seeping into any semblance of life found within the our operating systems, rendering them completely useless.

“I’ll have you know that no one has ever, EVER, said that to us! How dare you!” I shouted as fire fueled rage rising from unholy depths.

“You’re ugly! You’re fat and useless!” He cried out as he spat in our faces across the table as it sifted through the blistering wind.

Shocked, Lauren reminded me that we needn’t even bother with those of his kind. He knew nothing of our soul. Nothing. A man leading a bottom-shelf existence in a cesspool of hate, pretending to be high and mighty on his throne made of thorns.

We ran to the lawn and reassembled our only source of communication. Mine was split in layers. Lauren’s was split in half. “God damn, not even I could destroy this with my bare hands and I’ve tried!” We had to laugh it off, moods were shifted and we both had a show to perform on the lawn in NYC.

The grass was always greener next to the stage, even though night had fallen by the time we arrived. I assumed no one would notice my absence for 4 months, as the cast mates continued on with diligent rehearsals. I didn’t expect them to lift me onto the stage because they had to have found someone else, hadn’t they by now?

As with most things I had approached in life, I let shit go. I made big plans and never followed through. No one cares. I was front and center and the whole world was watching. But I was just an awkward kid, Louisa, to be exact. Still. After all these years. Lauren played the role of the beautifully budding love-sick teen, Liesl. Still. After all these years.

As they pulled me on stage in front of the crowd waiting for the show to begin, Rob stood front and center in his period costume, white-lacquered face, ruby lips and mysteriously-lined eyes. Fuck. He was the lead. Von Trapp. He wasnt supposed to be there either, as he’d been on tour, yet he looked at me in this sheepish glance as if to say, “Let’s just get through this, Liz.”

My head bowed as I walked across the stage clapping my red slippers gingerly, whisking past his aura and hers; the Baroness. Bitch. If I were to play a role, that was it. She was tall, thin, gorgeous. Brunette. Typical of his type.

Lauren grabbed my hand to pull me down to sit Indian-Style in our places as his children. In one fell swoop, I landed in a heap, white dress adorned with pearls, fleetly flying around me like doves kissing skin.

He turned and mocked me, now getting angry at our previous outbursts about our selfies, as if he truly took on the father figure role. The Queen just cocked her head as, snubbing her nose in our shared space.

The mics went on, and little did Rob know, but his voice carried over the lawn into the crowd. “You didn’t need to throw a fucking tantrum and rush the stage, Lizzy. That’s why you’re here now. We have to.”

I felt like shit, embarrassed and mortified. Fear started to crystallize my blood flow and I started to freeze. Stage fright took over and I barely could make out the words to Lauren, “He’s scolding me. I forgot my lines. I can’t do this.”

Panicking, Lauren put her hand to her throat and slit it as if to say, “Cut the mics! Cut the chord! She can’t.” She was looking straight at my former boss from the Big Apple.

Courage greeted me and swallowed me whole. Not to show anyone up or continue on as they’d hope, but if they wanted a scene, they were about to get one.

“Fuck this. I can’t do it. It’s not fair. That’s my role! I’m going home.” I said glaring at her as I rose and slapped my dress, tipping out of one slipper and leaving it in front of him as I darted off stage. “No more.”

He smirked. The show must go on. Even if it were in his way. Little did I know what was in store.

Lauren ran after me, up a long dirt road that now became my aisle. We looked beautiful, white dresses flowing and dancing amongst shimmering stars. Suddenly turning into to a Hindu and Maid of Honor, she grabbed my hand again as we made a break for it and tried to call out to each other as we ran, “Are you going to be okay?! Just keep moving!”

I took one look behind us and saw King Kong steadily making his way up our tails. No way to escape. We just kept running round the river bend, what seemed to be Ridley Creek.

This King caught up with us and to my surprise, gave me a new and improved SAMSUNG phone from flippin’ outerspace. I took some glamour shots of him, randomly in our haste, for which he was pleased.

We reached our home in the trees, with King Kong as the third wheel. And ran up rickety, rustic steps painted in artsy, vibrant colors, expressing every bit of our souls. Reaching the top, there was a snag, a blockage and ceiling of limitations that kept us from finding refuge within the safety of our own space.

Lauren and I ducked just in time for King Kong to swat at the ceiling so he could open it up for us to climb through. I was reminded at this juncture of the time I went to the pent house in Niagara Falls and did the same thing, crashing the roof through so I could gain access to the tip-top and dance in the rain with music in my head.

We laughed. Damn, he was good. And of course, now King Kong manifested into Rob, in his period gear, not unlike Jonsi, from Sigur Ros. Damn hot. Would be hard pressed to find a lad more suited for the stage than him. Lauren turned back into Lauren as they revealed their surprise.

Everyone was joking. I was the lead, the Queen Bee, the Bride. Even if I were only marrying myself. Rob and I had reached an understanding and reconciliation of times past.

Deeply enamored, he turned me, arm in arm, to look in the mirror … revealing a thinner me, honey dripping from my breasts and a white-lacquered face, ruby lips, mysteriously-lined eyes and one missing red slipper.

There’s no place like home. I needn’t tell you what it was like to arrive at the altar, witnessing the marriage between Cinderella and The Wizard of Oz.

The news stations blared over our TV’s, scrolling the latest headlines from my blunder on the theatre lawn – “Helicopters Capture Chaos at the Garden!” | “Louisa Makes a Scene!” | “King Kong Selfie!” | “The Show Ain’t Over Until the Fat Lady Sings!” |”The Show Must Go On!”

“It’s okay, you’re safe now…” He whispered as we reminisced about the synchronicity that brought us together once again.

“The grass is greener on this lawn where I become you and you become me,” he sang loud and proud, pulling me onto his chest as we fell into pillows on the floor.

Laughing and poking his nose, I chimed in, “The best part? Mom said a Bible verse right before, which meant the same thing, Rob.”

Galatians 4:12-20

12 I beg of you, brethren, become as I am, for I also have become as you are. You have done me no wrong; 13 but you know that it was because of a bodily illness that I preached the gospel to you the first time; 14 and that which was a trial to you in my bodily condition you did not despise or loathe, but you received me as an angel of God, as Christ Jesus Himself

“I wasn’t even in love, but my dreams are making it so. See how that works? It’s like Automatic Fire.” I laughed.


I woke up.

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