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Hi Folks,
As I am a writer, I thought I would try and entertain you with a fairy tale about The Princess and Monstrous Eddie (M.E.) for the Just Four Quid Campaign.
If I you enjoy it please make a donation, it's very easy and secure and all the money goes to research. We could be so close to a cure. Thanks
THE PRINCESS AND THE OGRE
Once upon a time a beautiful princess lived in a wonderful palace - well, a fairly attractive, slim, bookkeeper lived in a lovely flat with a balcony, did I mention she was slim? She travelled in a golden coach pulled by six white horses - okay it was a Mazda 323 but it was white and had a lot more than six horsepower. She danced the night away with many handsome princes and played princessy games like badminton and squash, she swam in azure waters and had many friends until the Ogre came. He sneaked in in the middle of the night.
“Hah! My fine princess,” Monstrous Eddie cried, “You are now my prisoner, with a twitch of my wrist your glands are infected, a whoosh of my hand and your brain is addled and no longer yours. And with a click of my fingers you are encased in an invisible cell in my dungeon.”
Just like that the princess’ old life was gone. Monstrous Eddie, or M.E. as he is un-affectionately known, took everything from her. She couldn’t work, could barely walk a few yards. She could see her friends and family but couldn’t join them. She forgot words and what words meant, sometimes when people spoke to her it was just a noise - nothing made sense. She was locked in the cell, isolated, cut off from the rest of the world.
One day a wizard came to see her. She thought he was a clever wizard who would free her from the dungeon.
“Ahh. Mmm. I believe I know the problem here,” he said. “You are just imagining the bars and doors to your cell. It doesn’t exist! It’s all in your head, if you want to get out you will. Just do a few exercises.”
The princess was so determined to be well that she tried to do what he advised. She threw herself at the bars and beat against the walls, she exercised slowly. If M.E. did not exist then she could get out, get her life back. Alas, the barriers were only too real, she became so ill from trying to break free she could barely stand, she couldn’t talk, all she could do was lie on the bed. Tears of frustration flooded her eyes. If only she could get a wizard inside her head, to feel her pain, to feel the mind-numbing fatigue, to feel her anger and rage, to feel how every fibre of her being wanted to be free, to be well again.
“I told you so” crowed Monstrous Eddie, “give up. There is no cure, no treatment, no-one to help you. You can just rest, never have to get up again, wouldn’t that be nice?”
But the princess would not give up. Over the years she saw many wizards, witches, soothsayers and even magicians. She spent her money on lotions and potions. Some made her feel better for a few moments but none opened the doors or shattered the bars.
“Told you so. I never get tired of saying that. Oops, shouldn’t say ‘tired’ should I?” said Monstrous Eddie. “You know all about that! Just accept you’re mine now. No prince will come, after all you’re not getting any younger and you’re rather cuddly now. Very cuddly actually. No wizard or warlock can free you. You’re mine forever.”
For a long time the princess felt out of sync with her friends and family, being imprisoned changed her. Small things that worried other people didn’t bother her now. Possessions and looks didn’t matter anymore it was what was inside that counted. She found the love of family and friends, the love for pets and the joy she could feel on seeing a flower bud unfurl were the important things in life. One day she made up a story. If she couldn’t fix her own life she could fix her fictional characters’ problems. A wise woman published it in her weekly scroll. Then another one and another. The princess had found something she could do on a par with free people.
“Pah! Writing, what good is that to anyone? You are still trapped, you are still wracked with pain every minute of the day, you are still too tired to walk or talk. What good are words to you?”
“Just three words may be the end of you,” she replied. “There are many thousands of people imprisoned by you in our kingdom. We have banded together and are running the ’Just Four Quid’ campaign. We have a website where we give people tips on how to save money. If they do save money we ask them to give us just four pounds from the amount they saved. We want to get £1m within a year for good and true Knights in shining armour to do proper biomedical research to help us find the key. One day we will be free and you will no longer exist. You will not be slain by a mighty sword but perhaps by three small words -just four quid.”
