Legendary Beauty
An apple, you most think me a fool, but you have no idea how hungry I was and the apple looked simply alluring. Shiny, but not shiny enough to look overly suspicious, it was a beautiful red and I had to have it. It reminded me of my mother. Her red lips, much like my own, and apples were always her favorite food.
I regret it now though, I did not even get to savor the taste, before the poison overwhelmed me, knocking me paralyzed. That is how the dwarves found me, with my killer in my hand, clenching it as if in a final fight for my life. They did not weep and instead got right to the task. The coffin was built swiftly, with a glass lid, so that could gaze upon my beauty.
They brought flowers to my burial ground each day and I watched it all from my conscious state. I could not move but I did hear them talking, mesmerized over my legendary beauty. I feed on their praise, and feel it is the only thing that kept me alive. Oh how, I wished they would just cover me up, leave me to die. How quickly one's attributes becomes their demise. The old crone, I came to realize, had been my step-mother, the queen. Once beautiful, but of course not as beautiful as me, her step-daughter. Her name is not important and neither is mine. I come to be called Snow White.
Through my glass lid I watched the world pass by all around me. I, however, was stuck in my current position. Past and present collided, I could no longer remember who I was or who I had come to be. Was or a princess or was my life just a dream? Maybe the queen had been a figment of my imagination. My beauty I was never unsure of. At a certain time each passing day, I could see my reflection in the glass lid. Ebony hair growing longer, red lips and pale white skin. I never looked at my eyes though. Eyes hold too much truth, they are a gateway into your soul. In the interlude between the time of day when I could study my reflection and when the dwarfs came, I occupied my frail mind with other things.
Once upon a time, for that is how all great stories must begin, once upon a time, there lived a girl named Snow White. Snow White was the most beautiful girl in her country, no in her world. She was a rich merchant's daughter, or rather, a princess. Her father was a foolish man who only cared for trivial matters. Her mother died at a young age, when the girl needed her most. Her father married a woman whose had been the most beautiful in her day. As Snow grew her beauty rivaled that of the queen. The queen set out to murder her step-daughter, because a magic mirror had confirmed the fact that Snow White was the most beautiful in the land. Snow White escaped her step-mother's murderous plan. She met six, no seven, dwarfs, and one day she was found by the queen and poisoned by an apple. That's where we began.
Aw, the apple, it was simply alluring, I had to have it. Snow White had to have it. So she ate and collapsed, the poison claiming her life. But yet she was still alive, in a coffin with a glass lid, watching the world pass her by. Yes, Snow White was alive and as beautiful as ever.
As Snow White watched every passing day from her glass box, a prince was searching for his true love. The prince, whose name is unimportant, was riding one day and stumbled upon a very peculiar thing. A fair maiden, her beauty unmatched by anyone, was buried in a coffin with a glass lid. Looking upon her face, he instantly fell in love with the maiden. He would come to see her every day. He was infatuated with her, and could no longer satisfy himself with just gazing at her face. He needed to touch his love, to hold her in his arms. So he broke the glass and retrieved Snow White from her prison of many years. Bringing his lips to hers they shared a fated kiss. Snow White was revived, the queen killed, and her father properly disposed of. The prince and Snow White lived happily ever after.
Snow White lives on, in my tangled mind. That is how the story ends, and that is how the most beautiful maiden in the world will be remembered. I never existed, my real story never happened, a fragment of my own imagination. I am Snow White, Snow White lives on. I live on.
Now it is that certain time of day when I can gaze upon my beauty by looking at my reflection in the glass lid of the prison in which I am held. My beauty is legendary, breathtaking, unbelievable. It will never falter. My beauty is all I have, Snow White and I. Oh, how quickly one's attributes become their demise.
This all started with the question "What was Snow White thinking while in her coffin, waiting for the prince." Then it evolved into a girl going insane and even developing a narcissistic and alter personality. Anyway tell me what you think. Good or bad comments appreciated. ~Iris Lily~
-Goes back to listening 3oh!3