#cedar2014

I left class more confused then ever after before. How do I find my true voice? I know what it's like to tell the truth, but I've never had to find the truth. Did he mean knowing the feeling of truth or the truth about feelings? I was getting a splintering headache just thinking about it!

Then I heard muse-ic coming from Professor Pied Piper's room. An idea sparked in my head — if I wanted to find my creative voice, maybe I had to use my voice creatively! I excitedly knocked on the door.

"Come in." Professor Piper is the coolest teacher at Ever After High, even if rats flock to his door whenever he plays his flute. I walked in to see a small group gathered, including Raven Queen, one of my best friends till THE END. Professor Piper enthusiastically clapped his hands, "Joining the glee club, Ms. Wood? Hexcellent! Welcome to the Happi-glee Ever Afters, where we ask 'Are you an alto or a soprano'? Sing a song now, don't be shy."

Raven sat at the piano and encouragingly smiled. She closed her eyes as her fingers danced across the keys. Her song painted a picture in my mind — my marionette strings fell to the ground, the wood grain circles on my arms and legs faded away, and my face felt warm like a real girl. I opened my mouth to sing ... and immediately wished I didn't. If I'm being honest, a tree being chainsawed sounds better than my singing, "THeY tOld YOU EVeryTHIng was WAITing FOR you! THEY told yOu EVERYthinG wAS Set IN stONE!"

By the time I had my next art class, I confidently knew what Professor Card told me I knew but didn't know I knew. I closed my eyes and remembered how special it made me feel knowing I had to be at that exact spot in that exact moment to see a simple rose brighten the world. First I sketched, then dipped my brush in watercolor and started painting a sunset red rose. Professor Card grinned from ear-to-ear, "Spelltacular! I feel joy in every brushstroke. How did you find your voice?"

As soon as I closed the Muse-ic room door, someone opened it. Out stepped Apple White, daughter of Snow White, warmly smiling, "Is everything okay, Cedar?" Apple truly only ever wants to help. That's why she's the fairest one of all. I told her about how I needed to find my voice. "I got this!" Apple said "Meet me in the Charmitorium."

When I arrived, Apple stood in the center of the Charmitorium stage, dressed like the Blue-Haired Fairy, "I know how hard this is, Cedar. I ask myself everyday 'How can I find my voice with such a big story on my shoulders?' Then I realized the truth... we're fairytales. Our destiny IS our voice. So we are going to act out the chapter where your nose grows! Isn't that just fairest?"

I was dumbfounded, "But my nose only grows when I lie. I — can't — lie!"

"I thought of that. Just pretend to lie!" Apple raised her voice to a twinkling pitch, "Now Cedar, why aren't you in school?"

I honestly tried to lie. I wanted to say a fox and a cat stopped me... but, as always, the truth uncontrollably spilled from my mouth, "I am in school."

Apple patiently smiled, "Let's try again." So we tried again. And again. And again, and again. But, no matter how many times we tried, I couldn't lie.

Through it all though, Apple understood, "Don't worry, Cedar. This curse will be gone soon. Then you'll be a real girl, just like me. Well, not just like me, but you get the idea."

I couldn't be sure if I had the idea or not, "Thanks, Apple?"

Art is my favorite class. Truthfully, it's my only real outlet. I can plug in my headphones, turn up my muse-ic, dip my brush and paint away. I never worry about truth or lies; curses or wishes. There's something about a blank canvas that feels… free.

But I was throne for a loop by our latest assignment, Emotion. I had to paint a powerful feeling. How do I paint joy? Or sadness, or love? All I felt was confused.

I finally decided to paint the moment when I become a real girl. It sounds like a happy moment, right? As I finished, Professor Card came over. Formerly a guard who painted the Queen of Heart's roses red, Professor Card knows a string or two about pressure.

He thoughtfully tapped his chin, "Technically, it's perfect, yet emotionally, it's empty. I can tell you want me to feel happiness, but I don't feel your joy."

My heart went timmmmberrrrr... "How do you paint 'joy', sir?"