Flowers for a Ghost

by stopalltheclocks-x

'The tale of the Dark One, will, in time, be told.'- Emma Swan is consumed by the darkness quicker than anyone would have dared to believe and Regina Mills is the only one who stands by her; the only shred of salvation that allows Emma to hold onto what remains of her sanity. A story of revenge, hatred and the ability of the human heart to fall in love against all odds.

1. It Starts at the Beginning

Who will bring me flowers when its over
and who will give me comfort when it's cold
who will I belong to when the day just won't give in
and who will tell me how it ends and how it all begins

- Flowers for a Ghost- Thriving Ivory

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The tale I am about to tell is not one you will find in any children's story book. Oh, it has all the makings of a grand love story, from brave queens to heroic children, but there is darkness hidden within every whisper of sweet love. There is no way to gloss over the truth.

Because that is what I am going to tell you. Not a half-hearted story, written to hold children in rapt attention, their lips quivering in anticipation. What is to be gained from that? Nothing. For I want this tale to be remembered, to be passed down from generation to generation. I don't want this story to disappear as most stories do.

So, with God as my witness, I speak the truth.

I knew a woman once. A brave, playful sort with hair the colour of honey. She was known throughout the village as the Savior. She was loved, cherished, revered. People would listen to her when she spoke and eyes lit up when she entered a room.

The boy who lived with her during this time was a sweet creature. Innocent, fiercely loyal and perhaps a little stupid, but undeniably sweet. He followed the woman he called mother around like a puppy, desperate to make up for those lost years he didn't spend with her, to live up to the challenge on being the savior's son. But the boy, who had held fast to his childish ideals for years, couldn't hold onto them forever, and before long, after his world view was shattered, the darkness consumed him too.

The world did not pay attention to the two simple lives of a woman fighting against forces greater than herself and her little boy. The world abandoned their Savior when she was the one who needed saving.

Yes, the world turned their heads and walked on by.

All apart from one woman: a woman who knew what it was like to possess a heart filled with vengeance, a woman who had felt the icy surge of hatred pumping through her veins; a woman they used to call the Evil Queen.

But I will speak no more of it now.

The tale of the Dark One, will, in time, be told.

- Henry Swan Mills