The Cure: 1 Where it All Began

No smurf is perfect. Every one of us has a flaw or imperfection that makes us genuinely unique. Brainy smurf can't see a smurf in front of his face without his glasses. Clumsy smurf's gargantuan feet make him trip all the time. Hefty is one of the biggest hotheads in the village. Greedy can never keep his paws off the pastries he bakes. Harmony is the most tone-deaf fellow in the entire village. There's days when Handy smurf should have been named "Hasty" Smurf. No smurf is perfect.

No smurf except me, of course.
      At least that's what I like to believe.

No. It's what I KNOW… I spent all the free time I could trying to improve my already incredible natural beauty. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't proud of how much time I spend and work I do to keep looking so good. Between three square (vegetarian, for me) meals a day, daily chores, and of course activities like Smurfball competitions and nature hikes, and the likes, most smurfs just scramble from one place to the next not having the time to care about their appearance.

I, on the other hand, wake up at exactly 5:55 every morning, then make a nice, hot cup of chamomile tea with lemon. Then from 6-7:30 I go through my strict ritual of daily skin care and beauty- smurfers. Then at 8, I meet the other smurfs for breakfast and daily life in the village begins again. Of course, throughout the day, I carry my mirror with me so I can make sure nothing has dirtied or afflicted my perfect face.

And so I can keep a sharper eye out for HIM…

Tracker smurf. And his bone-headed buddy Camper. For whatever reason, they've made tormenting me their raison être… I never did anything to them… so why do they torture me daily?! And 'torture' is NOT an exaggeration… Every single day, they do something to put me down, and just generally make me feel like dirt. No. lower than dirt. More like one of the bugs in the dirt. They've done almost everything from dunking me in the river in the middle of the spring thaw and stealing my towel to stripping me stark naked and tying me to the Great Oak. And nosmurf has the grapes to speak up... I've TRIED telling Papa smurf about their torment. He helps when he can, but there there's only so much he really can do. He can't be around to catch them every hour of the day. Every day I've lived in this village, I've felt scared. Like TODAY would finally be the day when Tracker would make good on his threats to snuff me out.

The only place I've ever felt truly safe- besides in Papa smurf's lab and my own home of course- is near Farmer smurf. Don't get me smurfed, I really, really loathe going out to the fields. They're smelly, hot, buggy, and I always end up leaving with something on my shoe.

Being with Farmer though… it's worth it. He's one of the only smurfs in the village that listens to my problems, and just lets me rant and rave for a little while. He's always there with friendly advice, a protective hug, and just a generally--- protective demeanor.

Everything about Farmer is protective. He's about ten years older than I am-which translates into one human year. He's also very fit looking from all the physical labor he does. His skin is a dark, tanned blue as opposed to every other smurf's lighter cerulean skin. He has a heavy bumpkin accent that flows like honey in the middle of summer. He's just that sweet too. The smurflings just love him; they always go to him for advice when Papa smurf isn't around. He's really smurfed them under his wing over the years. Smurf, he's smurfs EVERYONE under his wing. His open demeanor and friendly nature makes everyone love him.

I don't know if I'd be alive today if it wasn't for Farmer smurf.

That day started like any other day. I woke up and followed my daily routine. I was feeling particularly smurfy today, so I decided to carry my lucky mirror. Every time I carry it, something good happens to me. Just holding it in my hand made me feel positive.

Maybe today's the day Tracker and Cam finally leave me alone… I thought. Maybe today their torture will end. I was feeling optimistic.

I had no idea just how wrong I was.

The sounds of a triangle filled the quiet village. Ah, breakfast time! I thought, casting a glance at my reflection and admiring the fruits of my labor. It'd be a crime to keep this beauty away from the world.

I locked the door behind me and hummed a little as I walked to Greedy's mess hall. The lazy throng of not yet awake smurfs mumbled amongst themselves, moseying along at their own lazy pace. "Ah, bonjour, mon ami." A thick French accent spoke from behind.

I turned around to see a still sleepy Painter smurf yawning and stretching. "Ah, Hello Painter," I smiled slowing my pace so he could keep up, "How did you sleep?"

Painter rubbed his eyes and yawned again "Terribly, Vanity. Ah, inspairation struck me, and ah could not fall asleep!" painter explained, smiling, remembering the thought in his head. "But alas! Once Ah put zit to ze canvas, Ah couldn't get zit to look like it did in mai head!" he shook his head, his smile turning into a frown.

"Well maybe you need a model," I said, casting a glance in my mirror, adjusting the flower on my hat, "I'd be more than happy to model for your painting."

Painter's expression lit up "You would? Ah, merci, merci, mon ami!" he said shaking my hand, "Aftair breakfast then, smurf on ovair to mai studio, and Ah shall paint ze mastairpizza!"

"Can do, Painter." I smiled, opening the door to the mess hall for him.

We went to the line, and waited for Greedy to give us our morning meal. I looked in my mirror, but not at my reflection. I was looking for Tracker and Cam. They appeared in the doorway, and I tried to make myself undetectable. To no avail. "Good morning, Vanity" Tracker said, approaching me, putting his hand on my back, menacingly, "we've got lotsa great stuff planned for you today."

I fixated my eyes on the ground, hoping that if I just ignored him, he'd go away. "Yeah," Cam added, "Papa smurf's still visiting Homnibus. He can't save you this time. You're gonna wish you were never smurfed, Vanity."

It's too late for that, I thought, I already wish I was dead. "Eh! Leave him alone, you--- you--- Fils d'un schtrompf!!" Painter cursed at him in French.

Tracker shifted his poisonous glance from me to him, making Painter shift his own gaze. "You say something, ya foreign little weirdo?" he spat.

Painter said nothing, looking at me with his apologetic eyes. I understand, Painter. I silently said to him, You're scared too. "You'd better watch yoursmurf, Lady-smurf." Tracker spat at me, digging his fingernails into my bare back. "Cause if you're not careful, I'll be puttin it in the ground."

It took all my strength to keep from shaking and crying tears of fear. Painter put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, mumbling French curses under his breath as he led me out of the mess hall, in the direction of his studio. "Schtroumpfer as hors et mourir!!" Painter spat, disdain and anger dripping from his voice, "Vanity, you are alright, no?"

I shook my head, finally letting the tears fall. "Why does he hate me so much…?" I asked weakly. "What did I ever do to him….? Why does he hate me for giving a smurf about my appearance…?"  

Painter rubbed my shoulder with his hand, whispering words of comfort under his breath, "Painter… Can--- can I confide in you with something?" I said, my voice shaking.

Painter nodded his head. "Oui. You are mai best friend, Vanity. You can tell me anyzing." He said with a slight smile.

"I--- I've been thinking lately," I said, avoiding eye contact, "I've been thinking that maybe--- maybe they're right…"

Painter stopped walking and looked at me with his head tilted slightly. "Maybe… maybe all I am is just some insignificant little lady-smurf that doesn't deserve to live…" I said, looking at my sorry reflection.

Painter tilted my face so I faced him. "No, NO, Vanity." He said, shaking his head. "You deserve life as much as zat smurfhole Tracker. Don't you EVAIR let yourself think differanitly."

A little late for that, Painter… He led me to his studio. "Here, Ah have ze crab appels lying around. Help yourself." He said, gesturing towards a bowl.

I took one, and bit into it hungrily. Something about Painter's studio made me feel safe… until Painter went on one of his rants, that is. He's my best friend. There's no question about that. But when his bipolar tendencies took over, his normally peaceful demeanor would make a complete 180 and he would go on a catharsis until somesmurf could calm him down. Although, sometimes it was just better to let him burn himself out, and he would calm himself down.

The temperamental artist mixed a few paints on his palate, and approached a canvas. He dipped his brush into the paints and put a few daubs on the canvas. He had a smile when he started. But the smile quickly faded and was replaced by a frown that dictated his next actions. "No, no! Zees will nevair do!" He scoffed, wiping away some of the oils with his red sleeve.

He daubed his brush in the paints and tried again, only producing the same results. "NO! Zat is not ze ansair ether!" he scoffed, wiping away the oils again.

He tried one final time, but instead, he took the canvas and tried to punch a hole right through it. "NO, NO, NO! Zees will nevair smurf!" he shouted.

I already knew what would happen next. I moved some of his more breakable artwork out of his range, and tried to calm him down "I think it looks positively smurfy, Painter." I said, looking at the canvas.

Although I'm not sure what it is. I stopped myself from saying. "No, no, Ah must get rid of it!" the artist said, throwing the canvas against the wall. "ALL zees will not do!" he gestured to a set of smaller canvases next to him.

I rolled my eyes slightly. I already knew he wasn't going to listen. Once he goes off on a tantrum, there's no stopping him. As he was throwing his canvases and spilling his paints, I wrote him a note and stuck it on the door. I excused myself from his studio, and wandered towards Farmer's fields. I had to help with the harvest today anyways.

It was a long walk from Painter's studio, and I was still nervous about Tracker and Camper. But one way or another, I managed to get to Farmer's fields. He was out hoeing the fields, getting ready for the next season's harvest. Even from my distance, I could see the sweat glistening on his dark skin. He adjusted his straw hat and wiped the sweat out of his face. I'm not sure why, but I couldn't help but blush a little. Farmer noticed me, and wiped his hands on his olive green overalls. "Ha, Van'ty," He said, approaching me with his wide smile. "You're here t' work on th' harvest with me, right?"

I nodded a little. He furrowed his brows and tilted his head a little. "You okai, Van'ty?" He asked, "You look like somethin' Azrael dragged in."  

I was a little taken aback by him noticing my distress. "Oh! Um--- I'm just fine, Farmer." I said, looking at the ground. "Just--- a rough morning… that's all."

"You sure you're okai?" Farmer said, nervously biting on the straw in his mouth.

"I'm just fine, Farmer" I said, plastering on a fake smile. "It's just been a long morning."

"Okai… Would you mind harvestin' th' ru'baga? Ah'm 'lergic." He said, getting me a pair of work gloves and chewing on the straw he held in his teeth.

I nodded again, and made my way to the plot of land where Farmer kept his rutabaga. After about an hour and a half of harvesting and tending, I heard a loud, childish wail. I looked up from my work, only to see a little pink-and-blue blur zip across the fields to Farmer. Sassette. She was crying little girl sobs and hugging Farmer tightly. "Aw, shugah, wha's wrong?" Farmer said, sitting on a nearby stump and holding the sniveling smurfling in his lap.

The smurfling sniffled and hiccupped a little as she spoke. "Sufferin' sassafras, Farmer! That- that- SNAPPY… He tripped me when we were playin' smurf tag, an' he wouldn't even help me up!" She sniveled, "An'- an'- an' now I gotta skinned knee and I ruined my favorite overalls!"  

Farmer shushed her a little, and squeezed her reassuringly. "Aw, shugah. We kin fix your overalls." He said softly, his mellifluous voice soothing the crying child. "How 'bout you'n me go fix up yo' knee, then we'll go talk t' Greedy. Ah betcha he's gotta fresh batch'a smurfberry cookies in the oven." He added, moving some of the little girl smurfling's fiery red hair back behind her ear. "Now how bout a smile, shugah?"

She smiled a little and sniffled, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "There we go," Farmer said, smiling back at her, giving her one last squeeze and letting her off his lap. "There's th' pretty lil' smurflin' Ah know. Fo' a second, Ah couldn't find her."

He stood up and took her hand. I hoped my cheeks weren't nearly as red as they felt from watching such a tender scene. "Van'ty, kin you finish up th' harvest?" He asked.

I nodded my head with a smile. "Yeah. You go take care of Sassy there." I said, smiling a little at the red- haired smurfling.

The two of them left the fields, leaving me to finish up the work. At least the work I could do. I've always been a pretty slim smurf. No matter how much I eat. I worked for about two hours. I was taking a crop of ripe tomatoes up towards the silo in a wheelbarrow, and decided to take a short break. I sat on the stump and checked my reflection in the mirror. I KNEW I should've worn sunscreen, I thought. I was already starting to get a little sunburn on my cheeks.

Suddenly, I felt a pair of heavy hands on my shoulders. My heart just about stopped in my chest. My tail twitched like that of an agitated cat's. I angled my mirror upwards to look into the eyes belonging to he hands. Tracker. And Camper. "Hello, Vanity" Tracker said menacingly, staring me down from my reflection. "Didn't I warn you to watch yoursmurf?"

My knees shook a little on the stump. "P-please leave me alone, Tracker…" I half- whispered. "I-I just wanna do my chores, and go home."

"Yeah, right, Lady-smurf." He snarled, then cast a glance at my mirror. "Well, well! This is a nice mirror."

My heart sunk. "T-thank you…" I mumbled, shifting uncomfortably.

In a single swift movement, he yanked it from my hand. I couldn't help but yelp a little, but he paid no heed. He admired himself in the silver- edged mirror, but frowned. "Huh. I can't see myself." He said, still gazing into it. "Oh I know why…"

He leaned real close to me, and spat words of utter hatred into my ear "It only shows worthless little lady-smurfs that don't deserve to live."

I couldn't control my shaking anymore. Hot tears of fear spilled over my eyelashes and rolled down my cheeks. Tracker took the handle of the mirror and smashed the glass against the stump I was sitting on. I flinched and buried my head in my hands, wishing to be anywhere but there. "HEY! You smurfho's leave tha' boy alone!" I heard an angry southern drawl shout.  

I looked up. Farmer was standing in front of me, his fists clenched and his cheeks red with anger. I rose from the stump and ran the short distance to Farmer, letting him wrap me in a protective embrace. I sobbed on his chest as he whispered some comforting words in my ear. "Giddout'a my fields." He snarled to Tracker and Camper, sounding the angriest I've ever heard him. "G'WAN! GIT!"

In a flourish of footsteps, I heard the two smurfs scramble from their spots and run from the fields. I continued to sob into the protective smurf's chest. He patted my back and spoke, his voice soft and low again. "Shh…. Shh… dun' worry, shugah." He said, "They're gone… Ah won' let them hurt you."

I pulled away from his grasp, blushing slightly, and nodded my head in silent thanks. I stumbled my way back to my home, feeling numb to my surroundings. Once I reached my own home, I unlocked the door and locked it behind me. I flopped down on my bed and sobbed. I couldn't stand it anymore. This fear hanging over my head every day. The compulsive need to look over my shoulder. The constant anxiety I felt when I was alone. I just wanted it all to be over. I didn't want to always be living in fear.

Not quite knowing why, I slumped off my bed and sat at my desk. I took a piece of parchment and a feather quill pen and scrawled out some form of a letter. Feeling detached from my body, I walked outside my door. Time had passed and it was dusk. Most of the smurfs would probably be at dinner by then. And since it was still summer and it was a clear night, they would likely be eating in the village square instead of in the mess hall. I pinned the letter to my door, then slowly shuffled away. I HAD to pass through the village square to get to my destination. So I tried to make as little of a scene as I could. Papa smurf was finally back from his visit with Homnibus, and was sitting at his usual spot at the head of the table. "Ah, Vanity" he said, taking notice of me and rising from his place. "Where are you going? You haven't even eaten dinner yet."

I cracked a false half- smile. "I--- I'm not very hungry, Papa smurf." I said, crossing my arms over my stomach, holding my sides nervously, "I'm going to go take a walk. I'll eat later."
  
Papa smurf's once happy expression shifted to that of concern. "Are you alright, my little smurf?" he asked, studying my features. "You seem troubled."

He can see right through me. I hated lying to him. I moved my hands from my sides and shrugged my shoulders, smiling as convincingly as I could. "I'm fine, Papa smurf. Smurfy even. Just--- not hungry. I'm just going for a quick walk to clear my head."

He seemed to buy my fib. "Well… very well then." He said, still suspiciously studying my features. "But you should take somesmurf with you. It's dangerous to walk in the forest alone at night."

My eyes widened and I shook my head, waving my hands a little, defensively. "Oh, no, no, it's all right. I'm not going that deep into the forest" I said, "I won't be gone too long."

"Well… Very well…" Papa smurf said, starting to return to his place. "Just hurry back."

I nodded my head. I cast a quick glance to the tables and found Painter and Farmer, both sharing a look of concern and uncertainty. I shrugged my shoulder, and tried to muster a smile for them. Farmer shifted in his seat, somehow sensing my desolation. His eyes were fixated on me, genuine concern dominating his features. I broke myself from his gaze and stared at the ground, hoping my cheeks had lost their red hue, and hurried through the village square.

I walked past Handy's workshop, and soon passed Farmer's fields on the outskirts of the village. At one point, I could've sworn I heard footsteps behind me. I jerked my head around, feeling terrified, only to see nothing. I quickened my pace, and passed the smurfberry fields. I wanted to end this paranoia… This crippling fear of being tortured and murdered by smurfs that're supposed to be my own family…. I couldn't live with it any longer. It just had to end.

I soon found myself at the River Smurf, by the bridge and Handy smurf's waterwheel. I slowed my pace as I approached the mass of wood and nails. My footsteps were light as I approached the middle of it. I looked over the railing. The water looked swollen and deep, and it was moving fast. My heart was pounding loudly in my chest. I took a deep breath. I swung my leg over the edge of the railing, and held onto the edge. I moved my other leg over the wood barrier. I looked behind me at the rushing water. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as tears rolled down my cheeks.

Goodbye, world. I- I- I'm sorry....

Just as I let go of the railing and began to fall backwards, I felt a hand on mine. Confused, I opened my eyes. There, on the edge of the bridge holding my hand was Farmer smurf. "L-let me go, Farmer." I said weakly, "I don't wanna live anymore…"

Tears rolled down his face as he shook his head violently. "NO, Van'ty. Ah REFUSE t' let you go!" He said, pulling me up over the railing.

Once we were both on the bridge, Farmer sat down, his back against one of the wooden support beams. "Dad gum, Van'ty… Wha' were you thinkin'?" He said, wiping his eyes. "Scarin' me like tha'… wha' was goin' through your head, shugah?"

I hugged my knees a little, crying. "I--- I--- I don't wanna live like this anymore, Farmer…" I confessed, "This fear of being murdered by somesmurf who's supposed to be my own FAMILY… It--- It--- It makes me wish I could just die and save him the trouble!!" I sobbed.

I felt his muscular arms around me, and blushed a bit. "Dad gum, Van'ty… Ah know you're scared… I'd be too…" he said, his voice breaking a bit, "But su'cide's not th' answer, shugah…"

He angled my chin and forced me to look in his earthy- colored eyes. I started blushing a deep tomato red as he wiped away my tears, "I LOVE you, Vanity… Like how everysmurf loves Smurfette." he said, his lower lip quivering, "Ah couldn't imagine wha' my life'd be like if you died…"

He laid his head down on my shoulder and cried like there was no tomorrow. "I--- I love you too, Farmer…" I said faintly, not even realizing what I was saying. "I've always loved you…"

He lifted his head from my shoulder and cupped my cheek with his hand. He smiled weakly, and kissed me on the other cheek. He exhaled a little sigh and held me tightly. "Ah love you, Van'ty," he said softly, "An' Ah wish I could protect you from all th' unsmurfy thin's tha' smurf does t'you…"

He rested his forehead against mine, touching our noses. "Please promise me you won' do this again, shugah…." He said, staring into my eyes pleadingly. "Ah dun' wanna loose you…."

I took a deep breath. "I promise," I said, wondering if I could even trust myself, "I'll never do something like this again."

He smiled a little, and I tilted his head slightly. I kissed him gently on the lips, and the whole unsmurfy world just melted away.


It's been almost 40 years since that day. But we kept our relationship a secret for at least 35 of those years. It took a whole lot of nudging and prodding from Dreamy and Fly, may they rest in peace, to get us to share the secret of our alternative lifestyles with the rest of the village. Most everyone, including Papa smurf in the long run, supported us. Except for Tracker, of course. Ever since Farmer and I smurfed out of the closet, he'd been more and more blatant with his abuse. Some days I wouldn't even bother to get out of bed anymore. I've always been a skinny smurf, but now I looked like I weighed seven pebbles soaking wet. I also started doing less and less about my appearance. I figured that if I didn't look like I cared so much about how I looked, maybe they would finally leave me alone...

One day in particular, Farmer and I went to breakfast together. "Ah'll go get us some breakfast, shugah." He said quietly, giving me a light kiss on the temple.  

I smiled a little in reply, then went to go find us some seats. I noticed two open ones next to Smurfette and Painter. "Bonjour, Vanity." Painter smiled. "Where is your… 'othair half?'"

I smiled a little, and rolled my eyes. "He's getting some breakfast." I said, taking the seat closer to Smurfette. "Oh, my smurf, Smurfette, your hair today!"

She'd put a little blue flower back behind her ear and swept her lovely blonde hair all onto her left shoulder. "You like it?" she asked, smiling.

"Love it!" I said smiling, "I just wish Handy and his picture smurfer could capture its amazingness!"

She smiled a little and stared at her breakfast. Then she looked back up in surprise. "Vanity, watch o---" she was too late.

All the sudden, a cascade of smurfberry juice poured down on me. I already knew the culprits, but I still stood and looked around flabbergasted. Most of the other smurfs were dead silent, with the exception of Jokey smurf stifling a laugh. "What the smurf, Tracker!?" I shouted, shaking my hands, "that was a brand new hat!"

Tracker and Camper stood there behind me, empty glasses in hand. "Sorry," he scoffed, not sounding sorry at all. "It slipped."

"One of these days, Tracker!" Smurfette said, standing up and daubing my drenched forehead with her napkin. "One of these days Papa smurf won't put up with it anymore!"

"Papa smurf ain't here, Smurfette." He snarled, "He's visiting Homnibus. That means Vanity smurf is fair game."

I looked away, curling my toes in my shoes. He was right. As long as Papa smurf was away from the village, I was fair game to Tracker and Camper. I felt somesmurf's hand on my waist, and turned to see Farmer, poison in his eyes and rage in his face. Tracker was the only smurf in the entire village that made Farmer that angry. It gave me goosebumps seeing him so unlike the Farmer I know. "Ah've warned you, Tracker." Farmer said, spatting every word, "Stay away from mai Van'ty."

Tracker broke his gaze with Farmer and walked away, ending the standoff. "Watch yourself, Vanity smurf." He said, shooting daggers of unadulterated hatred at me, "Your little smurffriend won't always be around to save you."

Farmer took my shoulders and turned me from him, relaxing his features and whispering comforting words in my ear. "It's all right now, shugah…" he shushed me, "They're gone… Ah won' let them touch you."

He led me back to the mushroom house we shared, and got me a pair of his overalls. "Sorry, shug. All your other pants are in th' wash."

"It's okay," I muttered, stepping into the legs of the olive green overalls. "At least they're dry."

I heated some water in a large kettle and poured it into a wooden washtub. I smurfed my hat and tried to get the stains out of my white trousers. I sighed heavily. "Smurfs and their white clothes." I shook my head, "Who's the dumbsmurf who insisted we all wear white clothing?"

Farmer chuckled his southern drawl laugh, and stood behind me, putting his hands on mine and holding my white pants under the water. He put his chin over my thin shoulder, still trying to help me wash out the stains in my pants. I blushed, and smiled widely. He nuzzled my cheek affectionately. "Mmm… I love you…" he said softly.

"I love you too." I said, kissing him lightly over my shoulder. "I noticed these overalls aren't too big for once,"

I took my wet hands from the tub and adjusted the overalls I was wearing. Farmer has always been much bigger than me. I've never been able to fit comfortably in his clothing. "I guess you've lost a lot of weight." I muttered, instinctively feeling concerned.

Farmer kissed me on the earlobe and whispered softly. "Don' you go worryin' bout me, shugah." He said, his husky voice sending shivers down my spine and making my tail waggle. "Ah'm fine."

"I know, darling," I said, holding his cheek with my hand, "But it's in my nature. I just naturally worry about you."

"Well, y'shouldn't…" he murmured, nuzzling me again.

He held up my right hand with his. He twirled the silver band on my pinky finger. "R'member what we said to each other when we gave each other these rings?"

I smiled in remembrance of the day. "My life is forever yours." I said, nuzzling his cheek and smiling. "And you are mine."

He kissed me on the cheek, still twirling the ring on my finger. "Ah would die protectin' you, Van'ty." He whispered "Nothin's gonna keep me from protectin' you. Not some lost weight. Not some pesky cough. And certainly not some smurfho's threats."

"I love you, Farmer smurf," I said, adjusting myself so I could look him in the eyes.

"Ah love you too, Van'ty smurf." He husked softly, pressing his lips against mine, making my knees feel wobbly and the rest of the world fade away.