#fromcedar

HELP!

You see the marionette puppet onstage? The one that looks like me? Well, it actually is me, the real Cedar. The coachman from my future Pinocchio story put a magical curse on me and my friends that turned us all into puppets. I think he plans on handing us over to the Evil Queen! Lucky for me, I am already a puppet. Which means I'm the only one who has the power to help my friends escape. I've already tried a few times, but thanks to the coachman's curse, all I've got to show for it are a growing nose and a pair of donkey ears. I'm not giving up, though! You see the chest on the side of the stage? There's a potion in there that will change us all back to students. If you can distract the coachman, I can get free, take the potion, and get my friends back to Ever After High where they belong!

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!"

I'm not gonna lie (as if I had a choice). I'm wicked hexcited for this year's Spring Fairest! I can't wait to show off this Wonderlandiful outfit Lizzie designed especially for me. This spring I'm totally branching out!

The may-tree ribbon wrapping always carves a smile on my face. Can't wait! I've got a surprise in store. We're wrapping the may-tree in black and white ribbons this year: one color for Royals and the other for Rebels. I'm trying to get people to realize that even though we're seeing the story from different angles, we're all still fairytales from the same school. It's time to put our differences aside.

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?"

"Lizzie Hearts?" Now I was even more confused. Lizzie is the daughter of the Queen of Hearts and the heir to Wonderland's throne. Nobody really knows much about her other than, "All she ever says is 'OFF WITH HER HEAD!'"

"Timber sticks! Lizzie's just misunderstood. If there's anyone who can help you, it's her," Maddie skipped off to Lizzie, who was playing Wonderland croquet. It's like normal croquet, only they use flamingos for mallets and hedgehogs for balls.

"OFF WITH HER HEAD!" Lizzie shouted as she clubbed her hedgehog through a series of wickets. When Maddie started speaking to her, I couldn't understand what they were saying (mostly because I don't speak Riddlish), but once they stopped, Lizzie waved me over. "PAINT THE ROSES RED!" she pointed to a white rose bush, with a can of red paint next to it.

My eyes darted to Maddie, who smiled and nodded. I dipped the brush into the paint. As soon as my brush touched the petal, Lizzie snatched the brush from my hand, "OFF WITH HER HEAD! PAINT THE ROSES RED!"

She handed me the brush back. I looked to Maddie for help, "What does she want?"

Maddie shrugged, "She wants you to paint the roses red. Or... she doesn't. Maybe the rose knows."

Feeling foolish (and wondering why people from Wonderland insist on speaking in riddles), I leaned over to ask the rose bush what Lizzie wanted. Of course it didn't answer. Yet, Lizzie nodded. I asked myself over and over again, "How do I paint the roses red without painting the roses red?"

After what felt like forever after, something novel happened. A gentle breeze blew. The rose gracefully fluttered in the wind. The sun rays kissed its petals, making them turn from snow white to sunset red. It was simply the most beautiful thing in the world.

Usually I go to the Mad Hatter's Tea Shoppe to hang out with my friends. This time, I wanted to be alone with a hot cup of willow sap tea. How was I going to find my voice?

"Hellooooooo, Cedar!" Madeline Hatter hopped into a chair next to me, "It looks like you could use a friend. Mind if I help myself to a cup?" She reached into her hat for a steaming cup of tea. Maddie can pull just about anything from her hat. It's a wicked cool trick! "So you're looking for your voice —"

"How did you know?"

"It says so in the first paragraph of Chapter 4." I wasn't shocked with her answer. Maddie is known for her riddle-iculous reasoning, "So where do you think you left your voice?" When I explained that I was trying to find my voice in art, Maddie got confused, "You don't use your voice in art. You use paint. That's a riddle fiddle." Then her eyes lit up, "Voice... paint... riddle! I've got it!"

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?"