Well, I made a pick about this, and majority were interested in reading it, so here it is. In case آپ didn't know, the whole story is going to be about Belle's entire life until the beginning of the movie. This is just the prologue. I hope آپ like it.
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"Mama! Mama, no!" The little girl cried, her brown locks hanging in a tangled curtain around her face. "Mama, don't go! Mama stay! Stay with me mama!" Even though the night was pitch black, and almost everyone in the little town of Petit Cochon was fast asleep, there was still a bustling mess in the sturdy brown cottage furthest away from the main square. A beautiful lady lay on bloody sheets, her breaths heaving in and out, her arms laying almost lifelessly around her daughter. Even in death, the womans lips were still pink, her eyes still hazel, her thick hair still soft. Her baby girl was equally lovely, but if one looked at her at the moment, they wouldn't be able to tell, because her face was a mess of tears. Belle was her name, for she was born on a winters night when the sky was as beautiful as she was, and her loving parents named her after the cold evening sky.
The evening sky was a deathly dark now, as if Sir Death himself was coming to snatch Belle's mother away from her. She didn't know exactly what had happened to her. She remembered that when she came back from school, her mother was coughing blood. Coughing, coughing, coughing. She knew she had tried to mend her, she knew she failed, for at this moment, her mama was being taken away. "Cherie...mon cherie...take good care of papa, okay? Please...don't ever..." Her mother croaked, as rivers of blood fell from the corners of her mouth. "NO MAMA! NO! PLEASE STAY MAMA! PLEASE STAY!" Belle cried, and she cried, but her cries were useless, because right then, in front of her very eyes, her mother died right in front of her.
She was alone.
The cottage was empty. Her father wouldn't return till اگلے week. Never in her life had Belle felt so afraid. The walls of the house nearly threatened to break down with the sounds of her screams, her face streaked with her mothers blood. She tried to wake her up, she tried and she tried, but it didn't work. With terrible, heart-racking sobs, she collapsed to the floor, wishing to leave, just like her mother. Long after she had stopped crying, long after she was fast asleep, and wasn't awake to hear the cottage door creak open. The silhouette of a tall six سال old boy loomed in the shadows, as he tenderly looked at Belle, her small figure nearly invisible in the dark. "Good night Belle." He kissed her forehead and left the little house, his footsteps echoing in the silent, eerie night.