Chapter 1
We are standing on the beaten path, looking straight at each other. Surrounded by trees that whistle gently, enveloping us in security and life. My worn skirt sways in the wind and curl my toes around the cool dirt, waiting for it to happen. I close my eyes and breathe in the sweet symphony of the forest sunset. Before I can open my eyes once more, I feel his warm palms resting on my cheekbones and the heat of his breath as he moves closer and gently places his lips on mine. It is a wonderful sensation, this first kiss. Indescribable. Butterflies, light, warm bread. Sealing our lives together, it is a promise that we will wed someday. Slowly, slowly, first his lips and then his hands are removed from my face. Finally after many moments my eyes flutter open. Rafael stands there gazing at me, a grin stretching across his smooth face. He pushes back a length of wavy blonde hair from his face that escaped the cloth holding it back in a little tail. How funny that new moustache looks on his young face. I reach again for his hand, never wanting to let go of my new future, but he pulls away with another smile. His crinkling eyes are as pure a blue as the pond by the woodcutter's home.
"Tomorrow, Evangeline."
His voice is warm and whispery, low and captivating as it trips lightly over my name. With one last glance, he turns and walks down the path with a new spring in his step.
"But-"
Before I can finish, he is gone. In all my seventeen years I never thought Rafael would ever be mine. And now he must be, else my reputation becomes ruined. I begin to stumble the other way down the path towards home. The anxieties and curiosities of the future rely on my shoulders for support. I think I love him. He is the only person who has ever made me feel safe. But is love supposed to be more? Mother talks about father sometimes and her joy travels millions of lengths beyond what I feel for Rafael. The stories that I have heard about the princess Snow White and her love the Prince are also truly romantic. They fought for so long in their far off land to be together and defied even the strongest magic with their love. But I do not know Rafael well enough to know if I could save him from a terrible curse or not. I suppose, though, that Rafael is better than any other man in the village. At least, he is the nicest to look at. And kind, in a controlling sort of way.
"Mama!" I call once I reach home. The chickens scatter, clucking like nothing else as I invade their crowd. Inside our house is but a single room. She sits before the feeble fire spinning dirty wool on a splintered wheel that is barely able to stand on its own. Mama has not eaten a decent meal in weeks and it is my fault for not finding a way to improve her life. Until today. "Evangeline." A trembling smile graces her face. She must have been beautiful once. These days she is quite grey and fragile. Her body is failing her mind, which is still sharp and eager to scold.
"Mama, it will happen."
"Are you sure? Can you be positive?" Her cold hands grasp mine with surprising strength.
"Yes Mama!"
"Praise be child, you have finally done something correct." Bitter bile rises in my throat and my fists while she turns back to the wheel and starts running the cheap wool through her bony fingers. She keeps her eyes steady on her work. "Play the cards right and you could be wed within the month."
But the conversation ends after that and I have to resist the urge to cry, scream, and break free from these bonds. It is not fair of her to do this over and over again. Pretend she cares about me and then brutally insult me until I do what she wants. I know I am trying to keep us alive, but what about her? What has she done? Nothing. And still I complete these chores each day, stomp on my dreams because I am coerced into achieving hers. I believe she blames me for Father's death. It was not my fault. So I go about scavenging this shack for something to trick our stomachs into believing is supper. Once night falls, I silently pass a bowl of mint leaves floating in hot water to my mother and go to stand under the stars with mine. The sky is practically black, and the pure white full moon creates stark contrast. It is so close and yet so far, a distant symbol for the life I desire. Small, surrounded by black, but still bright and stable. Still hanging on despite all odds. The night is unusually cold and I do not last long outside. I am seized with a recurring urge to run into the forest, never look back, run forever until I meld with the wind and disappear forever as a part of the open, endless sky.
Finally I begin to prepare for bed. My dress stays on my body and I crawl between two flimsy blankets on the dirt floor before the dying fire. Mama insists upon sleeping in the tiny bed alone. Before I lie down I tie my long golden hair up with thin twine so that it does not become black with dirt. "Goodnight" I whisper to my friend the rustling wind. At last I turn to my left side and shiver into sleep.
