Black Snow ( A Snow White Twist )

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Skin as white as a white tiger;

Mind as clear as lightness nothingness;

Lips mimicking gently placed rubies;

Hair flowing as a black horse’s mane;

Heart as rich as gold;

Her wealth richer than the jewels you dream about;

Body as long as the great mountain;

Personality no one can loathe;

Her smile brilliant-up showing the scholars of the world;

More loyal than the royal dog;

 

            But these are just rumors started by excited gossipers.

 

            I am the perfect princess. The one in the mind of every little girl in my kingdom, Pathlion. I sit pretty and straight during every minute. I wave the wave only a princess who has had years of practice can master. I have the beauty that make men want to court me. I am as rich as the heavens. I take full courses that only my family can afford. Once again, I am the ideal, perfect, controlled princess.

 

            But just like the rumors, I am overly fake.

 

            I am just what you picture me to be. I could be the evil, gorgeous queen you wish, or the wishful thinking of the little girl’s imagination. I could be the conniving liar waiting for my next victim. Or maybe I am the role model meant for you to beat. The perfect princess or the suspect of crimes.

 

            But I am no one special. From my perspective, none of that matters. I don't want the fame or fortune. What I want is a sin. I know I shouldn't want it, and I don't. I crave it. I try desperately to get it every day, but I can never succeed.

 

            I will do anything for this. I would be the happy housewife making dozens of children for my spouse or the killer of innocent people. I've even tried to take my own life hoping that I could grasp my wanting, my needing.

What could possibly cause me such a deadly desire?

                Think. Think hard.

                Let us gather up the hints I have discarded so carelessly, failing to contain my secret.

                I am the princess, the fairest of them all with white skin and black, thin hair and with the beauty         and brains.

                I have the riches already and more fame than I need, yet I want neither nor my beauty.

                The rumors are nothing to me, personal image being an optional fetish.              

                The needing I want is a sin, so it’s obliviously obscure from the regular mind.

I would do anything for just a teensy-weeny taste.

 

            Got it yet? No it's not human blood, but I will shed it if I was asked to in return for this. No, it's not that over fantasized prince charming on a white horse; I already have my retard in shining tin foil that came riding in on an ass. It's not even to be a normal person. 

 

            I have succumbed to the sin of envy—envy being jealousy of another. But I am not just envious of one person; I want to be them all. Small, fat, tall, anorexic, poor, rich, unhappy, happy—it doesn't matter, I am just jealous of them all.

 

 

            Looks like the mirror made a mistake, I know. If I was the blasted mirror, then maybe I would have predicted the correct persona of a person. Wouldn't knowing the true side of a person by merely looking at them be, as if, orgasmic?

 

 

*Somewhere down the line the other half of this was deleted. Please bear with me.*

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