Not Evil

Remembering

Once upon a time I was different. Kind folk, I am known to you all as the evil queen but, darlings, you are mislead. You see, the truly evil queen is the queen of all the mirrors and their lies. I know this to be true for the mirrors spoke to me, long, long ago. Almost thirty years ago, I was conversing with them and they whispered flaws and secrets.
It all started when I was young, twenty years old and in love with my work. "Work is for the poor", said Mother. "Work is for the weak of mind and heart", said Mother. "Work is not for dainty folks, work is not for the quaint",said Mother. Oh how her words rhymed with the mirrors. But I did not know the mirrors yet. I was a teacher who worked in the school and helped all the children. They loved me. The shouts of "Miss Gina!" were common in the classroom and the schoolyard, filled with joy. I would kiss scraped knees and write out every letter they needed to know.
Of coarse my mother had it all worked out, even then. Gina meant Regina, the once and forever queen. She needed that from me. Not love but royalty and status. When the king was wed she beat me and when he was widowed she sent me packing to the castle with her hope and fine gowns. "Miss Gina" was no more and Regina was cried from the streets of the city. Everyone was ready for my arrival. Servants surrounded me, taking my bags, my cloak.
When I got to the castle I found fine curtains, silver spoons and locked doors. The servants would not let me out. I screamed and kicked. They dropped my bags and held me back. Once I stopped kicking they left me on the floor. A little girl with dark hair walked over to me.
"You can't get out. My mother told me that she tried. She's dead now." the girl spoke. She had a soft, sad vioce. It didn't belong on someone who was so young, surely. She looked very young, her hair a deep, inky black and her eyes a wide, startled blue. Her face was narrow and heart shaped. Her lips were the only thing about her that shoed any age. They were a blood red that must have been painted on.
"I would still like to leave. Would you like to come with me if I were to escape?" I asked. Her pale face changed and her mouth curved into the smallest of smiles.
"I would like that, please." She whispered.
"What's your name, little one?"
"My name is Snow White of the Castle. And I'm not little, I am in my eighth year!" She says stubbornly, becoming a little more bold.
"Well I was mistaken. Hello, Snow White of the Castle. I am regina of far away lands and I am rather interested in becoming your stepmother." I told her. "Is that alright with you?"
She giggled. "Yes alright. Will you help me leave?" She asked. "Will you play with me?" was added as a second thought.
"Absolutly." I replied. She grabbed my hand and led me away.