One. Two. Three. Four.
Bonnie crawled under her covers and tried to muffle the dragon roars.
It had been a while since she had heard them.
She had hoped after the last time that maybe they had gone for good.
Five. Six. Seven.
She had come home from school and they were so loud that she almost spilt juice all over her dress, the one with the puffy skirt and pink flowers.
She knew what she was supposed to do: go to her room, get under her duvet and count to 1000.
Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven
... Bonnie Abadine was a princess.
That's why Mummy bought her the special pink dress and Daddy called her Princess Bonbon.
She was 6 and three-quarters, turning 7 in September, so she was practically an adult already.
When she grew up, she was going to be a queen and fight all the evil dragons that scared the little princesses.
There was silence by the time Bonnie counted 214.
She pulled back the crumpled linen and grabbed her princess things from the bedside table - a shiny crown with red and blue gems (repaired many times with sticky tape), her tattered princess slippers with the 3cm heel.
Bonnie paused in front of the mirror and looked at herself.
She ran her fingers over the straps of her dress.
They were always too loose but now they were covered with running threads and the elastic was stretched.
She thought of Mary Porter, the girl in her class with the sparkling eyes and golden wavy hair that was so different from her own limp brown bob.
Mary Porter was like a princess - some would say a lot more than Bonnie.
She already knew year 4 spelling words and had a King and Queen for parents.
Mary's mother dressed in crisp outfits from far away lands and her father was like the large jolly men in her picture books.
Bonnie gently touched the bruise under her eye.
The patch of skin had first bloomed into purple and was now faded into a dull yellow blotch.
She bet that Mary Porter never had yellow patches under her eyes.
''Don't you dare say that to me!''
Thud.
The dragon was back.
''Please, I won't! Never again! But quiet, please be quiet. Bonnie will hear.''
It was Mummy's voice through the wall. What Mummy didn't know is that Bonnie always heard. Mummy needed help.
Bonnie shuffled down the hall and peered through her parents' bedroom door.
Mummy was bent, crumpled against the closet door.
The dragon loomed over Mummy. Enormous. It heaved with rage and stepped forward, talons raised to strike again.
''Stop!'' Bonnie had opened her mouth without thought.
The dragon whipped its head around and moved towards the bedroom door.
He raised a hand and hooked a claw under the doorknob, swinging it open.
''Get back into bed!''
The dragon leered down at Bonnie, who stood there in her ragged dress and broken crown. Pathetic, really.
''Don't hurt Mummy.''
''Bed. Now!''
Bonnie looked past the dragon at her mother, who was now huddled on the floor, head between her knees. Gone.
''Don't hurt Mummy!''
''I said GO!''
The dragon swung a giant claw that smashed Bonnie on the side of her face.
She fell to the floor and heard the crack of plastic.
She held her cheek in one hand and found her crown on the floor, shattered.
The gems were sprinkled over the hardwood.
She scrambled to collect them, stumbled to her feet and took a final glance at the dragon, careful to avoid its dagger glare.
''Yes, Daddy.''
Bonnie hung her head and walked backwards for a few steps before turning away.
Princess Bonnie ran back to her room, her hand over her stinging cheek.
She made sure that the door had clicked behind her before she would let a single tear start to drop.
She held the pieces of her crown as she tried to fit the fragments back together.
She clumsily stuck the gems back on the crown and bound it with sticky tape.
She placed it to rest on the bedside table.
She walked up to her bedroom window and drew back the curtain.
Her aching cheek rested against the glass, leaching out the pain and anger and confusion.
A little bit of fear, but not much. Bonnie Abadine, princess, aged 6 and three-quarters, stared into the black and imagined herself outside, free from the confines of her imprisoning castle.
If anyone on the outside had been looking in, they may have seen that Bonnie had aged far beyond her years.
• By Emily Williams, Year 11, Columba College
