I do not regret what I did. I know it was wrong. It was a desperate attempt, but my reputation demanded it. Her perfection is my pity.
The mirror was my prison. When I gazed into it, its twisted, reflective lips muttered my worst fears.
“Snow White is the fairest of them all.”
“You are nothing without your looks.”
“What do you have to offer the king, when his own daughter is your superior?”
Its words were a constant threat in my mind. Her, with fair skin and lips the color of deep ember. By comparison, who was I? What power did I hold whilst in the shadow of her beauty?
I needed to do something. I couldn’t let Snow White ruin my life. So, I hatched my plan.
My huntsman took her into the woods, and tried to kill her with mercy. But she tricked him into letting her live, that seductress.
I turned to my mirror for guidance.
“If you want to keep your life as it is, you must do it yourself.” Its smokey, green smile beamed at me truthfully. I knew what I had to do.
I snuck out into the woods, brandishing my poison apple. I didn’t want to do it, but I had to. Her beautiful presence was a threat to my status, and sometimes you have to put yourself first. That’s what Mirror always says.
I gave her the apple, dripping with caramelized cyanide. She smiled at me with red lips, like a freshly pricked finger. She took my apple eagerly. That girl, all beauty and no brains. She didn’t hold any value to the kingdom aside from her pretty face. My actions were perfectly justifiable.
Her soft, snow hand fell dramatically to the ground, still clutching my weapon. Her gaze turned vague and her breathing slowed. At the sight of her softening spirit, I made a run for it. Thorns caught my cloak as I escaped through the dense forest. I could taste it, revenge’s sweet aftertaste. Preservation felt like fresh wind. I had done it.
Mirror was proud of me. The throne was still mine. My name was synonymous with beauty.
Until she came back, with her lousy prince and her clan of garden gnomes.
Mirror said run.
Mirror said kill her again.
But it was too late. She came back with a pair of red, hot-iron shoes as my punishment.