Author's note: This is an experiment I'm trying out. I originally started a tumblr for this that I planned to update, but I think I'll post them here as well. Let me know what you think, and let me know if you guys want the actual tumblr page. I'll link it on my page. That said, I own nothing but my ideas. I'm playing with A&E's world, and Lana's wonderful portrayal of Regina. Have fun, leave reviews, favorite or whatever you wanna do. Happy reading!
Dear... whatever you are,
It feels silly to begin this missive with 'Dear Diary.' Perhaps, had I been allowed some privacy in my youth, I might have kept one of these, and grown a bit more comfortable with the endearment for the thing that should have held all my innermost secrets. As it is, you, Diary, are not my first, though you are my truest. There is another book of confessions that I use to distract the King. He likes to think he is sneaky when he goes through my things, reading my writings, but I know he does it. He leaves his prints on everything. Knowing that he touches my personal belongings is nearly as repulsive as when he touches me. But you, Diary, are special. You, I keep hidden. You, I fill with my true feelings, and not mindless drivel fit only to make the King feel as if he is clever. As long as the false one exists, you will be safe, and I promise to keep you nothing but. For you, Diary, are my only confidant.
Every day feels like more of the same. I long for the early days of my marriage when I was shown some tenderness; some consideration. I long for the days when Leopold and his insipid daughter would travel the land frequently. I long for the days before the King had gotten it into his skull that he needed to sire another child. Pretending to care for the fossil is maddening and exhausting, and leaves me nothing short of irritable.
My temper has grown worse. It grows ever more difficult to hold my tongue before my husband. My training with Rumplestiltskin has gone fairly well, and I know what the wet, sucking feeling of a chest cavity feels like as I wrap my fingers around a beating heart. I know the warmth, the little jolt of electricity that zaps the very tips of my fingers when they first brush the organ. I have missed it, the feeling of a live heart in my hand. But I cannot take his. The kingdom would turn on me, and I cannot be hunted.
Sometimes, I worry I am turning into Cora. When I was first learning how to do this, with every pulsing heart, I would see Daniel's face. Even now, the memory of him brings tears to my eyes, and I know I have stained the pages of you with their bitterness, Diary. It is not even that I love him anymore, -but I do, with every beat of this dead organ in my chest- but he represented a part of me that I can never get back.
My innocence. My mother stole it from me when she sold me like a prized milk cow. Leopold stole it from me quite literally. And Snow… well. She is the worst transgressor of them all. Not only did she steal all of the happiness from my heart, she made sure that I would never feel it again. My hope died with Daniel, and as long as she breathes, he won't rest. The longer his murderer is not brought to justice, the more my heart darkens with hatred. I will end her, just as surely as I will end her disgusting father.