Disclaimer: The story Snow White obviously does not belong to me, BUT everything else is original and belongs me.
(Disclaimer goes for all chapters)
Note: I must warn you now, the first ten chapters are a bit slow and might not seem related to the story Snow White (but they are). You should read this story with an open mind, especially the first few chapters. Well anyways, enough of my annoying ranting go read! Reviews are welcomed most greatly.
Part One
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The Birth of Two Girls
On the same day, in the same hour, two girls were born, both possessing an equal power and position in controlling the events to come in the future, in their lives and the lives of many others. One was born without a father; the other lost her mother the moment she was born. Both their homes were cold from the winter snow and the wind blew through the small cracks in the walls of their small cottages. The infant with the enigmatic green eyes was named, Evelyn, a few hours after her mother's death. The other child with the sleepy violet eyes was unnamed as her mother cried in memory of the husband and father who left her and her child. These two were to grow up gazing at the same stars, wanting the same things and feeling the same pain of losing a parent. However, they were fated never to meet. They were to lead parallel lives, never to intersect but to go along the same lines.
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Viola's eyes flashed with panic and fear. Her mother was drunk again and the stench of ale gave her the signal to hide. Her mother, Medora, was a dangerous woman when she was influenced by alcohol. She was dangerous all the time because she drank all the time. Her husband had left her for another woman when he found out that she was a witch and was pregnant, both which were issues he was equally afraid of. His abandonment emotionally scarred her for life. She became a bitter and cold-hearted woman. After he left, she tried to kill the baby within her but to her surprise, neither physical attacks nor magic would harm the child. The enfant was born healthy without a mark or scratch that might have indicated the harm her mother had inflicted on her. Medora never showed a sign of affection or love to the child that she had not named.
Viola ran and hid inside a cupboard and peeked through the crack in the wood. Their cottage was so small, and there were only a few places she could hide. Her mother trudged into the house bumping into the walls and into the little furniture they had. Her scraggly brown hair was powdered by dust and speckled with broken leaves. The bags under her eyes were dark and her blood shot eyes screamed murder.
"GIRL!" Medora shrieked, "WHERE ARE YOU!?" Viola hugged herself tighter as she heard her mother's footsteps getting louder and louder. A smell of jasmine and ale suddenly filled the air, and Viola held her breath. Medora stopped in front of the cupboard in which Viola was hiding. She didn't even need her mirror to find Viola. Viola was always easy to find.
"Hmmm… hmph… what are you doing my child? Do you really think that you can hide from me?! I'm a witch! REMEMBER!" cried Medora. Viola felt her body shake. She hated it when her mother said that. Viola was only eight years old but she was a perceptive and deep child. She heard the villagers talk of her mother as a monster and a freak. Viola had never seen her mother call upon evil spirits or cast deathly curses on innocent children, as the villagers said she did. Viola always figured that they called her a witch because she was eccentric and because of her hostile aura. She looked through the crack and saw her mother with tears in her eyes. Although her mother abused her, Viola felt a certain pity towards Medora. She saw every facet and side that made up Medora. She knew the pain her mother felt whenever she was discriminated against for being a witch. Whenever Viola was made fun of or victimized, she let her ill feelings go away by imagining herself away from her life. She dreamt of being rescued by a handsome prince who would take her to his palace, away from everything that would harm her. However, unlike Viola, Medora would ease her pain by lashing out at everyone and drinking. Medora harbored all ill feelings and it fed her anger. And with each passing day, Medora was becoming more and more hostile towards the world.
"You shouldn't have been born, child." Medora whispered, "It would have been better for you if you had just DIED." Medora fell to the floor and wept. Viola felt sorrow for her mother, but when she looked into her mother's eyes, Viola saw flames that engulfed her mother's soul, and it frightened her and kept her from soothing her mother's agony.
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In another region of the country, a young girl with jet-black hair hummed as she walked along the road with her father. Evelyn looked up at her father's face hoping for a smile, but expecting a blank face. Her father's sad expression dampened her heart but she kept a warm front and skipped ahead of her father. She was an enchanting child, one who had captured the hearts of the King and Queen with her charm. She was able to make most everyone smile, but her father. Evelyn took a glance at her father's face, and saw the distant look on his face again. He was thinking of her mother, she was sure of it. Nothing she ever did; nothing she could ever do; could relieve his grief. She was told of how great her mother was, and how beautiful of a person she was. She always thought that her mother must have been an extraordinary person. So extraordinary that she was able to grieve someone so painfully even in death.
She looked ahead and saw a figure walking slowly toward them. She pulled her father and went towards the old man who had his arms wide open.
"GRANDFATHER!!!" Evelyn ran into his arms and inhaled the smell of evergreen trees.
"My dear child, I've missed you so. I hear that you have gone to the palace to entertain the Queen herself." Evelyn hugged him tighter, happy to know that someone was proud of her.
"Yes, grandfather. Not only the Queen, but the King too. They asked me to come again and told me that I was a bright and charming girl," she said excitedly. Her father, who just caught up with her stood still, with a far off look.
"Well, I knew they would love you," her grandfather said. He let go of Evelyn and looked up at his son. "Ian…"
"Is there something wrong father? It's getting dark let's go in …" Ian said with a monotonous voice. He went into their cottage and lit the lantern. Evelyn and her grandfather stood outside watching Ian's shadow preparing dinner. Evelyn hung her head down, still hurt because of her father's indifference.
"I'll go in and help father." She whispered.
"Child, come sit with me. I don't feel much like going in, yet," her grandfather said. Evelyn hesitantly sat next to him and looked off into the distance.
"Do not be hurt by father. He loves you…it's just hard for him to express it," he said. Evelyn nodded her head, as she kept her tears from falling down her cheek. The sun was setting, and the stars were beginning to appear one by one.
"Your mother was a grand lady. Did you know you're a lot like her? Well, your father loved her dearly. Yes, he loved her more than his life…" Ian watched his father and Evelyn from the window near the kitchen. The death of his wife still haunted him. It had been eight years ago that he had lost her, but to him it felt like centuries. There had never been a day where he had not thought of her. He was not complete without her.
