Gone Was the Beast by Kylie Roberts

Pure as a doe,

A perfect repayment of

Her father’s debt–

Belle found herself

In the castle of the man,

Creature,

They call the Beast.

The Beast was one of few words.

Belle found herself determined

To figure out why.

He speaks to the roses in his garden,

Handling them gently and with grace.

But when she addresses him,

She gets at most a grunt of acknowledgment.

Does the Beast resent her presence?

With this question gnawing at her mind,

She is unsure of how to approach him.

Until one evening, when the moon had

Already crawled into the sky,

She blew out all the candles, dimmed all the torches

In the castle until she held the last remaining one.

The candlelight is already so dim,

She can barely make out the walls.

But she knows these halls,

Their twists and turns and ridges and bumps.

She finds her way to the Beast’s chamber

By taking slow steps, mute as the darkness around her.

She knocks on the door,

Announcing her presence physically and verbally.

“It’s Belle. I’ve come to ask you a favor.”

There is no answer but the door creaks open.

She wedges herself in between the dark oak panels.

She sees him hunching over a vanity

With a large oval mirror.

Her breath unsteady, her feet matching,

Belle walks up behind the Beast,

Locking eyes with him in the mirror.

Studying the frown on his face

And the tiredness in his eyes.

He had been sitting in the darkness

Long before she came.

Belle can’t meet his gaze any longer,

And blows out the candle.

Complete darkness surrounds them.

Something routine, comforting for him.

Yet Belle quivers, her breath hitching.

They are equals now.

Neither are bound by looks or sound.

They exist wholly in nothingness.

Belle reaches out, before hesitating:

“May I touch you?” She whispers.

She freezes as the Beast slowly turns.

His hand meets her reaching one.

He gently brings it towards his face.

Where hand should meet fur, it touches skin.

She gasps as she feels the smoothness of his face,

The softness of his lips and the curl upward of them–

An expression she has never seen on him.

“This is who I am, Belle,” He murmurs.

Gone were the gruff grunts and noises,

His voice was deep and smooth.

Her eyes search for his, meeting hazel woods.

He slowly rises and approaches the window,

As if not to startle her then pulls back the curtains.

Moonlight brightens the room with a sparkling hue,

Her eyes slowly focus, meeting those captivating irises.

This man is not a beast at all.

She slowly follows him to the window,

Her gaze searches the garden of roses.

The bushes towered over the castle,

Entrapping them in some sort of hourglass.

Petals fall like an autumn shower of leaves.

Hand in hand, they reach out,

Catching petals while staring into each other’s eyes.

Gone was the Beast, and left was only beauty.

Kylie Roberts is a recent graduate of Siena Heights University. Located in Adrian, Michigan, she is writing a book that will be an all-encompassing collection of her poetry.