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Creative Commons: Goldilocks’ perspective

You know the age-old tale: “Goldilocks and the Three Bears?” Well, that’s me. My name is Goldilocks

— and you all got my story wrong. Okay, maybe not all wrong.

You got the timeline right.

Yes, I did go into that house deep in the woods, a quaint, little cottage. The door—solid, stained oak—was left cracked open. Yes, I tasted the porridge. One was too hot, the other was too cold and the last was just the right temperature. Same for the chairs. Same for the beds.

The thing is, you all heard the other side of the story.

Many of you look at me like a criminal— you know, breaking and entering. I’ll admit it. It was wrong of me to enter a home without permission, but I’ll never forget that night. That night, when all the bears decided to take a leisurely stroll through the wonder of the forest, was an opportunity for me to go on a journey of discovery.

I had been having some trouble at school. Well, not with school, but with friends. The girl that I always sat next to in class, Claire, she was throwing a party that night— and guess who did not get an invitation? Yeah, me. I always lend her a pencil when she forgets hers, and I don’t even say anything when she pops her bubblegum too loud. Goldilocks did not get an invite. So here I am, brushing my long, gold hair with nowhere to go.

So, I tell Mom that I’m going out. Claire apparently already thinks that I’m lame. I can’t have Mom thinking that I’m lame too.

I decided to take a leisurely stroll through the wonder of the forest myself. I found this quaint, little cottage. I cried over the best bowl of porridge I ever tasted. In that perfect chair, all I needed was a bag of popcorn and some Netflix— then, I’d be in Heaven. (Although, we know that the three bears did not have cable, let alone a streaming service). When I could finally fall asleep, I had newfound knowledge: I had to keep trying out friendships, like the porridge, the chairs, and the bed.

I realized that Claire, she’s just not the right fit for me.

Then, I woke up as a new girl— and all these bears were wearing sinister smiles pointed in my direction. Imagine the fright I had!

The next day, Mom kissed me on the forehead and waved goodbye as I left for school on the bus. I sat and waited to arrive at elementary school.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” A voice asked from the aisle of the bus.

“Sure, take a seat!” I looked up and smiled at her.

Kirsten Magas is a fourth-year English major with minors in creative writing and journalism. KM867219@wcupa.edu

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