Hey, hey! I have been gone for this story for a really long time, but I am back at it again and I will write the whole thing and update it, in the upcoming months. My other stories will not be ignored, but will be on the back ground a bit more since I have found the inspiration for this story all of a sudden.

The layout has changed a bit as well.

The non-cursive writing are the letters of Regina, the cursive is Henry.

Thanks!

X.

Dear Henry,

You're five now and it pains my heart to see you grow as fast as you are. Of course, there is a sense of pride in all of it too, but also a sense of doom. I'm not sure I should be telling you any of this, since it isn't something a child should know about one's mother. Not really, but you reaching this age makes me terrified,

Why would she be terrified of me growing up? Why would she not want to see her son grow up? Of course, I would find out I was adopted in just a few years and the cold and distant behaviour would start…

It makes me terrified for several reasons, and I will begin with the easiest one of all of them, which is in itself rather complicated.

You are growing up, ageing. You are the only one in his town that is doing so, and by doing that, you create confusion around the whole town every single day, again and again. To yourself and to others that suddenly see a little boy of five wobbling around the town instead of the baby, or the toddler they remember from just yesterday.

I was the only one ageing? How did that work? Did they never remember me? Always newly surprised that the mayor had a son? Or did they have some vague recollection of me?

Their brains cannot handle the fact that for someone in this town the time is truly passing and it makes me afraid of what that is doing to my perfectly created town. I don't want my safe space, where I am in control to go away like that in the blink of an eye. I don't think I would be able to bear it to be losing control yet again.

My mom was terrified of the control she had fought so hard for. Had she never before been in real control? She wasn't now either, but she didn't know that Rumple was aware…

That was just the first of many reasons. Here comes the second one;

Since you are now five, it means that I have been raising you for a whole of four years and forty-seven weeks. Four years and forty-seven weeks of fearing that one day, even you will come to hate or fear me like most in this town.

The fact that you grow older means that you are growing to understand more and more of what is happening around you, and thus you are understanding that you do not look like me like you are supposed to. That your eyes are a whole different colour when you and I look in the mirror together while I am washing your face and brushing your teeth.

I do not really remember much of that. Did I really mistrust her already there? No I don't think I did. Perhaps she was just a little paranoia. I think I would be with the history that she has had. She was terrified of my not loving her anymore. I suppose that fear came true…

It means that even though you are picking up on some of my mannerisms, there are still plenty that do not originate from my nurture but from your nature, and it shows me that one day you will do more than just notice, you will question. I know you will question because that is only a logic thing to do for little children.

It already pains my heart to think about what you will do when you find out.

The last and perhaps most dark reason of why I am this terrified of you growing up, it that at this age. At the age of five my mother thought me old enough to understand her punishments and the reasons behind them.

If I were to spill something, if I were to talk back or talk to one of her guests, I would get the belt to my back until I stopped crying.

The first time I couldn't and I my young body collapsed and the world grew black around me, only then did she stop.

The first time my mother didn't know when to stop yet.

I can barely read the crossed out parts of the letter, but if I strain my eyes well enough, I can read what it says. It pains my heart now to think of the kind of live my mother had, and it breaks my heart to see how well she took care of me, she was so different from Cora.

The next times I was able to stop myself from crying for too long until I had mastered to take the ten whips of the belt without a sound.

The reason I am telling you this is not because I fear I will hit you with a belt, because I know I couldn't, what I am afraid of is that perhaps I will start to grow just as cruel and unfeeling as my mother did, and that I will grow cold and heartless just like her.

Many would argue that I already am cruel and heartless, but those are now under my spell and have no clue that deep down they think that, as they only see me now as their mayor, someone they are at the very least are afraid of.

A child shouldn't have to bear it's mothers pains and memories, so I will spare any other details from you. And if you absolutely despise reading anything about it, I would warn you to stay out of any of my other things I have written.

I found her diary yesterday. Or well all six of them. Three of them were leather bound, from the Enchanted forest I guess. The other look more like the modern ones, but still are rather fancy. I haven't dared to read any of them just yet. Perhaps I shouldn't, but it is almost as if she is giving her permission to do so…

There is also great joy in my heart of course. You are incredibly clever for your age. Even I can see that and I do not know many of the customs here in this realm, or what exactly the standards are, but the fact that you can already read and are beginning to properly write, is something very early for your age.

Even I wasn't as fast as you and my mother prided herself in having bright child like me. That also was the only time she has ever been proud of me

I am so very happy that you always manage to smile and giggle your way through every day, and you bring so much joy to my old and battered heart. You're sleeping on my lap, with your little head against my shoulder, drooling over my clothes as we speak.

I shan't be able to have you here when I write these anymore, or you will read things at too young an age for now, since you will definitely want to read anything you can lay your hands on.

With much love,

Your Mother, Regina.

There were tear drops on some parts of the letter, dried ones, old and barely there, the only real sign of them were blurred out words, but most of them had been crossed out either way.

Dear Henry,

I'm sick.

She what?

And not your usual cold 'sick', it is the sick of a terminal illness that will always linger on my bones, tire me out before I have even gotten out of bed.

No, please no.

You're six now. My lovely little boy that is growing far too fast, and I don't even know if I will ever be able to see you grow into a full grown man. Probably not.

Mom please.

Which makes these letters the more important to me. I don't know if you will ever know me as well as I wish you would, but for that you have to be aged enough to understand and bear the weight of the knowledge. I do not think I will live that far.

Why? Why. Why!?

Even though I might not be aging, my body, my insides, in their own way are. Or that is the illness. I did not understand the doctors as well as I wish I did.

Always your pride.

They have found cancerous cells in my body. Nobody but I knows in this town, because I went to the doctor outside of this town with the cover of some sort of meeting. And I have already promised myself that I will never tell anyone.

Why didn't you look for help from someone? You didn't need to do it on your own.

It is in my liver, which means I should not drink any more wine or alcohol in general. They want to give me an operation that will probably save my life. That is what they are hoping at least.

It must have worked. You lived until four months ago. You lived. You lived mom!

I hope so too of course. I want to be with you as long as is possible, so I will try. I will try and fight hard. For you my prince, always for you.

Why had I never noticed her fierce love for me. Why had I always taken that for granted?

I do think that this will be the first time you will ever hear of this, since I will wash away the memories of when I take you with me to the hospital appointments when they will begin my radiation and chemo treatments.

I knew?! I knew and you made me forget! God mom why?

I don't think I can do this alone, so I need you with me, but you won't remember. You do not deserve that burden. God sometimes I truly doubt that I am a good mother to you. Probably not.

I'm sorry.

No. no don't you dare be sorry, you were the best mother I could have ever wished for even if I didn't appreciate it back when.

The letters will probably get a little shorter, since writing takes more effort than I would like to admit. I even collapsed in the middle of Granny's earlier today. They will not remember anything of it tomorrow of course. They never do.

They did. Or well Ruby and Granny remember something vaguely. I remember them asking me if you were alright when I was younger. I always shrugged it off.

I love you. I am proud of you, and those thing will never chance my dear little prince.

With much love,

Your mother, Regina

The writing had gotten a little sloppier the farther the note went on, her name almost illegible and more tears were to be found on the letter. She would not have written like that if she weren't either sick or tired. Did she still have her steady hands, or did they tremble. I wish she was still here so I could ask.