18 Years Later

     A little chameleon hid behind a flower pot, camouflaging himself to stay hidden, as he snickered quietly, trying to stay as silent as possible.

     "HA!" Rapunztroll shouted out in victory, suddenly yanking the flower pot away to see behind it, but there was no sign of her little friend being there.

     "Hmm, Well... I guess Pascal's not hiding here," she shrugged with a smug grin, beginning to walk away, as she glanced back sneakily at the window cill the flower pot once sat on.

     Pascal chuckled at the fact he had hidden so well, accidentally revealing himself, as Rapunztroll quickly whipped her hair forewords snatching him up, off of the ground.

     "GOTCHA!!!" she shouted out in victory, dangling the little chameleon in front of her face. "That's twenty two for me. I win! Wanna play again?" Pascal shook his head, as he crossed his little arms, looking away from his friend, upset that he had lost yet again to her.

     "Ok then. What do you want to do, Mr. sore loser?" Rapunztroll taunted with a slight grin, releasing him from her hair.

     Pascal stuck his tongue out at her playfully, and then ran to the window, pointing outside with his tail. Rapunztroll frowned at the suggestion her friend had just made. They both knew she could never leave that tower...

     "Yeah..." she sighed, turning away from the window sadly. "I don't think so. I like it in here, and so do you." Pascal pouted, crossing his little green arms, as he turned away from her. "Oh, come on, Pascal," Rapunztroll said, petting his little head gently with her finger. "It's not so bad in here." She smiled, beginning to sing.

     "7a.m. the usual morning lineup, starting the chores I sweep 'til the floors all clean. Polish and wax, do laundry and mop and shine up. Sweep again, and by then it's like 7:15," she sang, doing her usual chores around the tower she called home. "So I'll read a book, or maybe two or three. I'll add a few new paintings to my gallery. I'll play guitar, and knit, and cook and basically. Wonder when will my life, begin."

     "Then after lunch, it's puzzles, and darts and baking. Paper-mache , a bit of ballet, and chess. Pottery, and ventriloquy, candle making. Then I'll stretch, maybe sketch. Take a climb, sew a dress, and I'll re-read the books. If I have time to spare, I'll paint the walls some more, I'm sure there's room somewhere," she sang, looking at her over painted walls. "And then I'll brush, and brush, and brush, and brush my hair. Stuck in the same place I've always been. And I'll keep wondering, and wondering, and wondering... Wondering, just when will my life begin?"

     "Tomorrow night, the lights will appear," she stated, singing softly, as she looked out the window. "Just like they do on my birthday, each year. What is it like out there, where they glow? Now that I'm older. Mother might just let me go."