Chapter 1 – An Artist

"She's the girl that no one ever knows."

The oak tree outside my bedroom window was always foreign to me. It didn't matter that I had grown along with it. When I was a young girl, it was a small sapling, but over the years it grew to tower over my loft room. It had grown beside me, from that seven foot sapling and the three foot little girl, to the nearly five story oak to the five foot, and one measly inch young lady.

It didn't matter how close we had grown together, it would always be foreign to me. I had even touched it, but still, it was somehow different. Everything outside the apartment was so incredibly different to me. Even my mother was different. Nothing felt like home, not even the apartment I shared with the woman. My mother, Emilyn Gothel, worked through the nights to afford a good living for me. Her little Rapunzel. She named me for the flowers outside of our complex, the rapunzel plants. She had lived here a long time, she told me, outside the island city of Corona. We lived in a small ghetto set aside for people with little to no income. Corona didn't want us to dirty the city, my mother told me.

I didn't think the Ghetto was dirty.

Even though the streets were filled with con men and filth, I saw the people who lived there, struggling so hard to make a living. I saw the children who played with makeshift balls in the alleyways. I saw the rapunzel plants that tried so hard to reach the sun. I even saw the beautiful oak grow beside me. Yet, no matter how beautiful the Ghetto really was, it didn't feel like home. I was comfortable there, that was for sure. I could get warm in my blankets, and I still felt safe despite the loud sirens that went off during the night.

But it wasn't home.

When I was younger, I asked my mother why it didn't feel like home. I remember her telling me how hard she worked for me, and how I never appreciated her. She slapped me, but I certainly deserved the slap. I deserved a lot of the slaps she gave to me. The older I grew, the more help my mother needed. I was her Rapunzel. No matter the lack of feeling at home, I would stay by her side forever if I had to. She was sick, and I seemed to be able to make her better, whether it was by singing, or by brewing a home remedy. I was good at that. So good that mother suggested I become her in house nurse.

I agreed.

At eighteen, I was still living in the loft above our apartment. My mother had the only closed off room. We shared the bathroom next to her room. It was a small apartment, but we each had a space. My mother's space was a dark lonely room with only a bed and a vanity, her closet completely empty. I didn't like going into her room, and I only ventured in there when she was really sick. Then, there was my room. She told me I could do whatever I wanted up there. One time, when I was a young girl, my teacher gave me paints. Since then, my walls have never been bare. Colors fill the room, bright pinks, yellows, and oranges. One wall, the one with the window, was decorated in Corona purple and gold, much to my mother's distain. I loved Corona's colors though, the happy purple, with the gold sun. However, in the center of the sun on my wall sat my window, letting in the sunlight through the beautiful oak tree. I loved my room.

Art is my passion, I loved to paint. Any pocket money that I had went to buying paints, canvases, and brushes. Many of my school projects involved me drawing or painting. I always got A's, and my high school art teacher sent my work into Corona University for me. I wasn't thinking about going to college, but I was accepted to the school, and that changed my mind. It wasn't because of my art that I was accepted, though, I'm not really good at painting, but my academics have been high since I started school.

Despite my acceptance, I still haven't told my mother. If I went to Corona, she wouldn't have anyone to take care of her, and she wouldn't be happy. I shivered at the thought of her finding out. I also didn't know if I could afford the high tuition prices, I had a scholarship, but Corona University is the university. There are only two others that surround Corona, and they aren't as prestigious as Corona's. It was expensive.

The only way I could afford it was if I got a job. I wanted a job anyways. I always liked the idea of having more paints. Mother never gave me pocket money; I just saved anything I found on the ground. Maybe a job could pay for that as well as school.

"Mother," I ventured to ask her one afternoon after she woke up. She had already finished getting ready for her night job, all these years and I never knew what she did.

"Yes, Rapunzel." Her scratchy acknowledgement made my mouth dry.

"Could I- Could I get a job?" It sounded very pleading, and weak, but I needed the job. I still had a couple months until school actually started and tuition was due. I needed to earn the money, and fast, to pay for it.

"A job?" My mother sat back finally tuning into my presence. I had been cooking some lunch, and she had been hunched over the counter sitting on a barstool while looking through some magazine.

"Yes, I-," I paused, "I wanted to have some extra money." I mumbled while picking at a hole in my old ratty clothes.

"Don't mumble, Rapunzel, and head up. When you talk to someone, you look them in the eye." Ever the mother, she was determined to make me presentable even when at home.

"I was just saying," I stood straighter and spoke louder, "That I wanted some extra money, maybe to buy some new clothes, and help buy food."

I watched mother as she leaned back, itching her chin in thought, and then she looked at me. "Will you still be able to make my dinner?"

"And take care of you," I nodded and promised excited. "Nothing would change!" It wasn't a promise I could keep, I had already signed up for classes, but I made sure that I would be home whenever she would expect me to be."

"Well, if it interferes with anything," Mother started standing from her stool heading for the door, "then you'll quit."

"Yes, mother."

She left the apartment without another word, without agreeing, but forcing me to promise her things that I didn't want to. I sighed, it was step forward, but it wasn't enough. When university did start, I wouldn't be able to do everything. But I was determined to keep with it for as long as I could. I wanted to be an artist. I wanted to be everything.

I started searching for jobs almost immediately. Most of the places in the Ghetto weren't hiring, but a few people took pity on me. A small bakery that provided most of the bread in town hired me. The woman working there had known me for years ever since I started shopping for mother. She always threw in fresh items for me, even though we could only afford her stale breads. When I walked in asking for a job, she hired me on the spot. Though, she said I would have to do something with my hair.

I had long blonde hair; mother said I looked best with it long. It almost reached my toes, and was very heavy and thick. I had no idea where I got my looks from. Mother had a very sullen and sunken face, her eyes were always dark from lack of sleep, and her hair was raven black with curls. My hair was straighter than uncooked noodles, and brighter than the light of the sun. My eyes were a bright and happy green, a vast contrast to her dark brown ones.

Maybe I looked like my father, but I didn't know him.

The bakery only had limited hours for me, Jolie, the proprietor, could only offer me nine hours a day with minimum pay. So as I walked, trying to find another job, I began to fiddle with my golden hair thinking of ways to tie it up. Maybe a pony tail would work? Or maybe a bun? Since I wasn't thinking about where I was walking, I found myself standing in front of the last place on the longest cobblestone road in the Ghetto.

The Snuggly Duckling.

It was a pub, an unruly pub. Most of the sirens at night were headed for this place. During the day, it was dead with only a few midday drinkers in. At night, the place came alive with the people of the Ghetto. It was the oldest place here as well. It was so old, that a tree was growing through it and had nearly uprooted the place. I had never been in there because mother forbade it, but what would it hurt to venture in during the day. No one was there.

It was an odd name for a pub of its darker nature, but maybe at one point it was a bed and breakfast. There were old rooms in the back, but they were too run down to function properly as a hotel. As I pushed the old wood doors open, I was shocked at how ordinary it looked. Wooden tables set around, a small stage with a dusty piano, and opposite the stage was a large fire place. The bar was ahead of me with televisions, a luxury mother and I couldn't afford. There were a few men already nursing drinks, but I ventured forward towards the barkeep who was giving me an incredulous look.

"Are you lost?"

He was a very round gentleman who wore a grease stained and once white apron. He was so large, and rattled with scars and tattoos that I thought he had been a few bar fights. Though, he must have had to be to keep his bar in working order. I noticed one of his tattoos was a set of stag antlers.

"I was wondering if you had any job openings." I looked around the room, maybe the tree roots made the room tilt a little because I felt very dizzy.

"How old are you?" The man asked leaning forward on the bar. I wasn't surprised by the question; I must have looked much younger. The legal drinking age in Corona and its surroundings was eighteen, meaning I was able to drink and serve the drinks.

"I'm eighteen, I'm an adult." I promised him rummaging through my only purse for my identification given to me when I was a young girl. It wasn't a birth certificate; my mom said she had lost that. It was Corona identification cards you had to have to attend school. It had my name, Rapunzel Gothel, a current picture, and my date of birth, November 24th.

"Hmmm," The man scratched his sideburns, and I tucked my blonde hair behind my ear as he inspected my I.D. "You know the men are sometimes ungodly here right?"

"I can handle anything," I wasn't quite sure of that, but I would do anything to have money for Corona University.

The man seemed to be fighting with himself for a long time, weigh the pros and cons of an eighteen year old on the job. "If you're sure that you can handle it, I'll have you start an early shift, we can work up to prime hours. How's starting next Monday? I'll have you come in around two in the afternoon, is that okay?"

It would have to do, I would be waking up early to be at the bakery at four in the morning, and then work until noon there. It would afford me time to stay at home with mother and make her food. Then I could be at the Snuggly Duckling for some of the evening.

"Thank you so much." I practically squealed and headed for the door. It was weird walking on the leveled cobblestone when I left the place. It would certainly be difficult getting used to working on a slant. But I was determined to make enough money to attend Corona University.

The first week of work at the bakery and Snuggly Duckling was hell. Mother had gotten sick, and I would leave work at inopportune times. Though, both of the proprietors went easy on me, they understood. When I was at the bakery I would be taking orders for customers, baking, and decorating. I had to work fast and keep my hair out of the way. I had taken to several different hairstyles: a long pony tail, but it often got in the way; a large bun, but it gave me a headache; different variations between the two, but nothing working; and finally, I settled on a comfortable braid. It kept my hair together, and stayed out of the way. It also was easy to maneuver, unlike the ponytail, but was still light and didn't give me a headache, unlike the bun.

The braid also worked for the bar. Since I wasn't working with many of the terrible men, I didn't have to work about being flirted with too much, but there were a few of the touchy men. With the braid, I could sling it over my shoulder and not worry about it becoming a handle for them to grab onto. However, I spent more time cleaning the bar and restrooms than I spent talking to customers. I scrubbed down the bathroom stalls, and found that the women's bathroom was nearly always untouched, but the men's was a disaster. I hated masks, but became very familiar with them when working at the Snuggly.

A few weeks in, I became very familiar with working with people and customers. I was able to easily slip into conversation, and out when I had to. Tensions between my mother and I had slightly lifted, and I found the time to take care of her, and balance the work load. However, the coming semester was now looming. I had made more than enough to cover the tuition, but little to cover any supplies or books. I would have to give up one of my jobs and I already knew which one.

I had signed up for night classes so I could be home during the day, and be able to take care of mother. The bakery fit perfectly because after my late classes, I could head home, do any homework, and then head to work. I could come home, make mother some food, and take a nap before classes started again.

I'd hate to give up the Snuggly Duckling, my regulars were nice to me and afforded me decent tips. They also protected me against any strangers who tried to start something. However, it just didn't fit. On my last week, I decided to break the news to Antlers, the bartender and proprietor. We called him Antlers because of his stag tattoo, and because the wall behind the bar was decorated with different antlers of animals along with the televisions and alcoholic beverages.

"Ant," I began holding the pail of soapy water I used to scrub the tables down. It was a fairly quiet night, and only a few men huddled at the end of the bar near one of the televisions watching some sports event.

"Yes, Rapunzel?" He asked heading towards me. I set the pail down on one of the stools and adjusted one of the dresses I had made. I loved dresses, I couldn't stand wearing pants. It was weird, but I felt a lot freer in dresses. I had made a couple of summer dresses with my first few paychecks. Many of the shops in the Ghetto that sold dresses only sold run down things or things that weren't exactly modest. So I bought some fabric and an old sewing machine and made a couple of dresses. Now, I was wearing a blue dress with a red belt, white top, and white and blue slashed sleeves. It was quaint, or as my mother said, gaudy.

"I was just letting you know, that next week I start classes at Corona University," I mumbled the last part, not a lot of people around here like Corona, or its university. After all, Corona was the reason they were in the Ghetto. "I won't be able to keep working here."

Antlers wiped his hands on his apron and reached over to take my small pale hand in his large hairy one. "I'll sure miss you." He spoke softly to me. "You always made this place shine."

"I'm sure you could find someone else to clean up, I can't be the only one who knows how to use a washrag."

Letting out a low chuckle, Antlers nodded, "I didn't mean that, but I will certainly miss the new cleanliness around here. I've never seen this bar so clean before you." He paused, "I meant your attitude. You're always so happy."

I smiled at his compliment, "Thanks."

"Go and have fun, but be sure to visit occasionally." Antlers never judged, but maybe that came with being a bartender, they always had to listen. He was always open listening to me whenever I expressed upset at seeing new piles of gross in the bathroom. He was always the first one to laugh at my jokes, and always offered a smile. He was always so helpful, too.

I was going to miss him.

With assurance that I was going to visit, I left the bar in a week. I was going to be starting at Corona University. I felt like I was officially an adult. I felt like I was finally free.