by Bella Chance

I sit alone in my tower
Sighing and staring out into the world
My 70 feet of hair hangs out the window
Carefully braided so it doesn't knot up
A slight tug. No, it was only the wind
A few have begun the climb before
And one even got close to the top
But they all eventually give up and leave me
The tug persists and I begin to hear the sound of boots agains rock
A voice calls out, "I'm coming up!"Could it be true?
Has my prince finally come to rescue me?
He won't make it, no one ever does
My doubts are disproved, for a hand clamps to the edge of the window ledge
Then a face
Sparkling brown eyes, a slight dimple, and a mess of brown curly hair on top of his head
Hesitantly, I reach out and hug him
"Thank you," I whisper