"Peter, please. Annabelle and I- we just- I don't know! You know we don't get along! Can't you send her to the finishing school in Linalena? It would be much more conventional, and it's quite cheap!"
Desdemona pleaded, as I listened through the crack of the door, speaking to my father. I sighed wistfully. Desi was the perfect evil step- mother.
She hated me with a passion, though I didn't know why. I think it had to do with the fact I was pretty and she was butt ugly. At least, that's what she kept telling her it was a fairy mirror that she had probably stolen from her ex- husband.
As for myself, I had thick, raven black hair that I prided. It reached the middle of my back, and it shone blue under the right light, especially under the moon. My skin was clear, unblemished, and very light. I couldn't tan if I tried. But I had never felt the need to try, anyways.
I was the perfect 5'7 height, and though I had many offers to balls and social gatherings but I had never accepted. I had only eyes for one boy.
We hit it off easily, but before anything romantic could happen between us. His name was Chenate. Chenate Castello. I got to often visit the prince of Tantua.
But when I was eight, Chenate was called for lessons, always spending less and less time with the Duke, Duchess, and their daughter. Me.
My lips, naturally red, were my mother's, and we used to take pictures of ourselves and compare our looks to each other. We looked so similar, that it was shocking. But it was always fun to spend time with her. She was the only one who really understood me, apart from my friends.
But that was before she died of food poisoning, of course. I was twelve at the time.
Both of us were sick, after eating some tainted chocolate. I had only a small piece, but mother had a huge craving for chocolate. The next day, both of us suffered from stomach- aches and threw up, constantly.
Dad took us to the doctor, who happened to be a fairy, and he gave us a curing tonic for our illness and told us to take them twice a day.
I gained health, but mother did not.
It turned out that she had taken an allergic reaction to the medicine. Although she was taken care of by the best doctors, there was only so much the doctors and nurses could do.
Five days later, mother was dead.
But before she died, my parents called me Snow White, when I was a child. Not only because I fit the description, but also because it was my favorite tale that I would listen to over and over again, every day. It didn't bother the fact our family name was Snow.
I remember her funeral clearly. Only close family and friends of hers were to attend. Father would keep holding my hand as if I were a life vessel. I tried pulling away from him, but it would only make him hold on longer. I stopped fidgeting after my hand started to be cut off from blood circulation.
When the time for the priest to end his long, boring speech came, I was to close her coffin, and lay a lilac on the lid.
After doing so, I started to cry for mother for the first time. I sobbed loudly and in my blindness, I fell. Wiping the tears away, I stood up and ran to the forest.
Branches caught and scratched at my knees and ankles, and tearing at the black midnight dress I donned.
Oblivious to the physical pain to my legs, I collapsed on the ground, crying hysterically. I could still imagine the sympathetic voices and eyes that turned to me.
I would never see mother again, except in pictures and memories. Too much was expected for a twelve- year old girl. And without a mother… what chance could I possibly stand?
Three years later, my father had met Desi and they started to see each other. Desdemona. Her name suited her perfectly.
She was never beautiful or pretty. She ate like there was no tomorrow, consequently plumping her thighs until each leg was as fat as my torso. Disgusting? Yes. I wasn't stick thin, either.
I wasn't as thin as a door handle, but I'm not fat, or anything.
I could never know what my father sees in her.
Her personality wasn't any better than her looks, either.
Desi had pasty white skin, and she still had acne, mixing and dotting with chocolate brown moles.
It didn't go well with her mud- brown eyes, and I'm being very modest with you, on her behalf. Her sparse brown hair was magically colored crimson red. It was not a good look for her. A mad fairy, or psychopathic gnome must have colored it.
Did she try to look the way she did? But I'm being formidable. It's not nice to talk about a rude, irresponsible, idiot harpy like that!
But I truly yearned for an older woman figure. At the time she and my dad were dating, Desi was very nice to me, and I had immediately accepted her into the family.
Or maybe Desdemona was bitchy to me and I was just blinded by the fact I had no mother. Little did I know that she was the mother to all evil step- mothers!
Either way, I was much more beautiful than she, but I never flaunted it. The mad lady was just selfish. She married father for his money and jewels, not out of love.
The marriage was a classy one. Held outside in the rich Aishita gardens, it was a beautiful day. There were over 500 guests invited. The cooks and scullery maids were terribly busy with the catering and the tailors were making loads of money, just for Desi's dress. The dress was beautiful, and it almost made Desi presentable.
Her bouquet consisted of pansies and blue roses, a gift from the pixies that were invited. I was a bridesmaid, but it wasn't anything too special, as there were eight other bridesmaids with much nicer dresses.
Desi only gave me the plainest dress.
The wedding wasn't too eventful. I wasn't invited to the reception. I didn't mind. Father told me there would be nobody else at the wedding that was my age, anyways.
But lately, Desdemona had been trying to get rid of me. I hoped my father wouldn't give in. It would be hell if he consented to her idiocy in exchange for his daughter. His seventeen-year-old daughter, to be exact!
I headed back to my room, tiptoeing away. Desdemona was smart, unfortunately. Little did I know what lengths she would go through just to get rid of me.
I thought something along the lines of her moving away to Nedencia, or some other state, far from Tontua, where I could live in peace.
At first, things started out just as well. After the marriage, Desi started out sweetly enough. But when my father wasn't around, she would become harsh and demanding.
The first sign of hostility I received from her was when I was fifteen, and I had made a cake. It was wonderful, and perfect, something I had tried to achieve for three months.
I had the scullery maid and the cook to help me choose which kind of cake and such, and I gave the rest of the night off to all of the servants.
I made the kitchen table and the surrounding area as perfect as I could. I cleaned the counters, wiped the table of grease, and I even put a few lilacs (mother's favorite. The witch's favorite were pansies) into a vase as a centerpiece. And for an extra touch, I added candles around the flowers.
I presented my cake to my dad and his wife (I could never call her my mom). My father had left to wash his hands before he ate, as I cut a slice from the dessert.
I cut the cake, and served it to Desi. Instead of thanks, she stood up and slapped me hard across the face.
I stood shocked while she snapped at me for a bigger piece. Obliging, I ended up serving her three quarters of the cake before she was satisfied. But even as each piece grew larger, she still shouted at me at how stingy and selfish I was for not giving her a decent amount of cake.
Why my dad took so long to wash his hands remains a mystery. How was I to know that the unjust punishment would go so far?
Another time of harsh unwelcome I received was the day I got back from a four- week journey with my friend Lagera. With smiles, I ran to my father who welcomed me back joyously. But the minx shot me pure venom from her eyes, and I could almost swear on a set of gnome- made silverware that I heard her mumble, "She's here. All hell will be brought back."
She went to hug me, though I knew better. But before I could pull away, she embraced me. In my ear, she sharply whispered, "Watch your back, Annabelle! You will not be treated as royalty in my own home!"
Like a Cinderella, I had to clean the house on my hands and knees, until my father would come back from the courts of Tantua, making peace with the other countries.
She would make me wash the floor, despite the amount of servants we had. The acid water scoured my hands, wounding the already raw wounds on my hands.
Despite my efforts to tell him, Desdemona would just tell him that she had only made me clean my room, and that I had over-exaggerated.
But every royal court gathering, Desi would scold, beat, lash out at me, and on a few occasions, strike me. But I could never prove that she did so, for I never attained bruises, and I was trapped.
But every day that he was home, Desdemona would give him a saccharine smile and purr to him like a kitten.
It made me sick, but I could do nothing, or else regret it. I didn't even have a sibling that I could share with. Thank god she couldn't have children. I would have died if there were little devil- spawns that I would have to take care of. There is SOME justice in this world after all…
I couldn't tell my friends, either, or else something terrible would happen. They would think I was weak. And I couldn't have that. If they found out, I would be forced to attend meetings with the court for justice.
Desdemona would be taken away, and my father would be terribly upset. I couldn't take her away from him, as much as I wanted to.
Through the months, things between Desdemona and I started to get worse. For days on end, the witch wouldn't give me food, except a glass of water to last me a whole day, locked in my room from outside.
My hope wavered and my patience wore thin. So finally, I devised a plan.
I would have to run away from this horrible woman… And my father, who was oblivious to it all.
Saving up money, and looting two thousand pieces of bronze, silvers and gold from Desi, I snuck out of the house I had grown up in, carrying all the belongings I could carry in a carpetbag and a purse.
It wouldn't be too bad, as I had most of my belongings confiscated by the minx anyways. I packed a picture of mother, many candles, two dresses, and a ball gown dress in case.
The money went into the purse and I also took mother's wedding ring with me. I didn't have much else.
The only other items were food, a map and a fairy diary that I wrote in. It never ran out of pages, and it never became ruined. You could also keep pictures in there, whenever you flipped to the particular page! The prince gave it to me for my sixth birthday. I cherished it ever since.
I took to the quest on foot without a trace, except for a farewell note, stained with tears and sealed with a shaky kiss. Desdemona would have been thrilled.
With a last glance to the manor that I loved, I set foot to wherever fate would take me, humming songs I had remembered, and songs that I made up on the spot, in attempts to get the situation out of my mind.
Not only would I be leaving my father, I would also be leaving behind my friends, who have been my constant companions since the beginning of my youth. I choked down a sob, singing the songs louder.
For hours, I would walk by and pass manors, shacks, farms, until I was truly out of Tantua. But I didn't stop there. I followed the road that had now faded into a damp path well traveled. A lush forest, ripe with summer, surrounded it. I breathed in the fresh, dewy scent, and soon became weary from my travels.
Once I became tired, I trekked to a leafy spot in the forest. According to my map, I was very close to the town of Penepia, which meant "Land of Prosperity" in elfish. I hauled my bag to the makeshift mattress of leaves and grass and began to make myself comfortable.
But before I could fall asleep, I wrote a little entry in my fairy- diary.
It is late in the evening, or early in the morning. I am not sure of the time, because the sun has already set long ago, and not risen. For once, I am glad of Mistress Mariah teaching me languages. Not only in Tantuan, but also in Elfish, Caneptic (the language of pixies), Gnomic, Abdegi (The language of giants), and even Ogrese.
Tickling my nose with the end of my quill, I looked up at the moon that was shining through the dense forest onto my diary. What a beautiful night, I thought.
It is my first night alone, and I have yet to arrive in Penepia. My only regret is that in all seventeen years of my life, I had not traveled outside of Tantua. Oh how I wish I could live in Frell, Kyrria, and be like CinderElla! I bet a thousand silver coins that her live has been at least slightly easier than mine, with a fairy for a godmother!
I scoffed. The Cinderella story was actually true. Oh, how I longed to be in her shoes! Glass shoes, included.
But I keep forgetting that Ella's story was harsh, as mine. Not only did she have a stepmother, who was as evil as Desdemona, but also two step- sisters. I pity her immensely.
Sighing, I thought of the look on Desdemona's face when she reads the letter. I would come back someday, wearing a mask. "Who is this beautiful maiden?" A courtier would say.
And a knight would beg me to take off my mask.
And everyone would plead Desdemona to wear one.
I wish father would know that I left with the best of intentions. But I know I won't be missed much. But to mask my disappearance, I would have to go by a new name, would I not? I am Annabelle Snow no longer.
I thought of a name that I would be able to get used to. No names could suit me well, I knew.
And then a dawn of an idea struck me.
I will go by the name; Snow White.
With that last sentence, I put my ink and quill back in my bag, along with my diary. No picture accompanied my entry.
Lying down, I closed my eyes and slept as soundly as I once had, when mother was still alive.
This was the beginning of a new life. Or so I hoped.
So… how is it? Snow White here! *Sigh* Well, this isn't finished yet. So please review!
I OWN EVERYTHING! (Except that little disclaimer down there)
But still, I own everything.
This is set in the same time of Ella Enchanted. Ella had already married.
Disclaimer- I don't own Ella from Ella Enchanted, Abdegi, or Frell, Kyrria from that novel. It belongs to Gail Carson Levine, an amazing author. Check her out!
Love you all!