The Girl Who Tried to Outrun Ugly (III)

The Girl Who Tried to Outrun Ugly (III)

A Story by Junert
"

Finaly part.

"
"Even I, an ugly girl, knows that you cannot outrun Ugly. None can."
"Certainly none can, for all of Ugly was vested into you... but that is the true beauty of this. Because you are so ugly, Ugly is not expecting you should outrun it!"
"It makes perfect sense!" Nausea Mundane said.
"You surely are the daughter of Divinity Mundane!" The gypsy cried. "You have her sense of judgment, and wisdom!"
"Thank you, gypsy!" Nausea Mundane said, and began running.
Running, as fast as she could.
For many hours, Nausea felt as though she would collapse, for she ran as she had never run before. She ran through town, pushing through people with disregard. She ran hard, knocking over the carts of many food vendors.
After the sun began to set, Nausea Mundane slowed. She kept her pace at a slow job, but whether it was her imagination, or reality, she felt as though she was close to outrunning Ugly. When she came to a river, she removed all of her clothes, and dipped into it to bathe. Surely, so long as she kept moving, it should count as running. After she bathed, and dried by the cold air of night, she hopped around on a leg, until she was dressed. She tackled, and rolled, and moved as she pulled her hose into place, and then her dress over her head.
Nausea ran, for years. She ran, and ran, and by whatever mystical powers the gypsy hand granted to her, she never needed sleep. She ate, as she ran, and sped through the world around her with no regard to the beauty of nature, or structure, land, or sea. Nausea ran, and ran, and each day that she ran, she felt certain that the next day she would outrun Ugly.
It was a cold, cold Winter's night that took Nausea Mundane. No matter how fast she moved, the blistering coldwinds slowed her pace.
"No!" She begged. "No, cruel Winter winds, please! I must outrun Ugly."
The winds had less wisdom than she, or her mother who had passed before her. They were merely winds, and so they blew, and blew, and as the night grew colder, NauseaMundane froze running.
It was three weeks later that a caravan of gypsies passing through the icy highways cameupon her. She was as an ice statue would be, a beautiful shade of blue frozen over a hideous face that should havebeen a mask for All Hallows Eve. "Stop!" A beautiful young voice called out from the caravan. A woman of regal beauty stepped from the middle of the gypsy caravan.
She was dressed like the old gypsy, dressed in the exact same layers, and smoking the exact same ivory pipe that the old gypsy had smoked when she instructed Nausea Mundane's beautiful mother. Nausea Mundane, sadly, had passed into the next world, leaving behind an ugly, frozen body.
"Ah," The regal gypsy cried."The spell has worked. She has run her course, and I am beautiful."
The caravan that followed with her applauded Nausea Mundane. The gypsy said then, "For life was cruel to you, death was your only escape. You ran, and you ignored the wailing children, and horrified mothers. You gave me your inner beauty, and the world has suffered worse for it. You devoted your life to being what your mother had been without effort, and in your death, you have earned it."
Warm light broke through the frozen clouds in the sky, as asword pierces weak armor. It shone down on Nausea Mundane, and instantly her frozen grave shattered, spilling her limp form into the snow.
Her body rose from the snow, the dirty, shredded clothing hanging from her in tatters. As she rose, she began to turn slowly.
"For what you could not be in life, so you shall be in death." The gypsy said, and waved a hand. In a flash of blinding white light, Nausea Mundane was beautiful. Her beauty was glory beyond the regal beauty of the gypsy's, and well beyond the beauty of Divinity Mundane. Her body glowed with a life that simply was not in her.
The gypsies of the caravan placed her body into a beautiful, solid golden casket. They traveled from town to town showing Nausea Mundane's beauty to all the world, before finally returning her to her home in the sisters of the convent's "Sisters of the Convent.".
The world lamented, and was sorry they had ever been cruel to such a beautiful girl, for as it was okay to wail, andrun from the ugly Nausea Mundane, surely the beautiful Nausea Mundane would be missed forever, and ever.
She was buried beneath the convent, where the sisters of the convent would live in peace, and harmony, happily ever after.

© 2013 Junert



Author's Note

Junert
I love this.

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Featured Review

Too sad she never experieced being beautiful, but I think it draws a lot of lessons in life, being categorized ugly it really goes back to the colonial preference of archaic kingdom like Great Britain which practice racial and color differentiation during victorian era. Great story love it!

Posted 4 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Junert

4 Years Ago

Yeah, you analyze well. Thank you.
Marc Marlon Villaflor

4 Years Ago

Yehey :)



Reviews

Too sad she never experieced being beautiful, but I think it draws a lot of lessons in life, being categorized ugly it really goes back to the colonial preference of archaic kingdom like Great Britain which practice racial and color differentiation during victorian era. Great story love it!

Posted 4 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Junert

4 Years Ago

Yeah, you analyze well. Thank you.
Marc Marlon Villaflor

4 Years Ago

Yehey :)
I find this unique, intriguing, and very entertaining. A special kind of folk tale not commonly seen around here. Excellent, just excellent.

Posted 4 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Junert

4 Years Ago

Yeah exactly what I thought.

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Added on March 14, 2013
Last Updated on March 14, 2013
Tags: fairytale

Author

Junert
Junert

Tema, Greater Accra, Ghana



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I'm intrested in writing and reading fictional novels. Also wants to make friends with people with such intrests. more..

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