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Perfectly Wicked - A new take on an old fairy tale!

Guest Blogger
Amanda Schultz
Age 15

There she was…hair as black as night, lips as red as blood, skin as white as snow. Standing by the window, washing dishes, whistling while she worked. Snow White. I shudder with disgust every time I hear her name. What kind of a name is that anyway? “Snow White”. Gahhh, it’s a name that practically begs to be made fun of. Yet, there she goes, frolicking around like she owns the Enchanted Forest. No. I’m the Queen. I’m in charge. My magic mirror was mistaken. I’m the Fairest of them all, not that sorry excuse for a princess. One bite from my poison apple and that air-head will be so ugly not even her mother could love her. And I will be the Fairest once again!

I suppose that I should rewind a little bit. It wasn’t always a competition between Snow White and me. In fact, back in the day, we had a nice little system going on. I would rule the kingdom and practice my magic, while Snow did the dishes and tended the garden. She stayed out of my way, and I tolerated her. Everybody won. Then one day, it all changed. One thing you should know about Snow White is: she’s a crier. I heard her sobs echoing through the castle one spring morning. Reluctantly, I tore myself away from my magic and entered her room. “Snow,” I said sweetly, “whatever is the matter Dear?”

“I was sweeping the floor, when I accidentally swept an ant out of the way,” she blubbered. “That poor little thing flew across the room, smacked into the wall, and lay still. I feel so bad. I’m really no better than the thieves and ruffians. Oohhhh.” Sobs continued to rack her body. I tried to be compassionate. “Oh, cheer up, Snow,” I said reassuringly, “On the Brightside, the ant had a quick death, and it was so small, there’s no blood for you to clean up. Now, pip-pip, on your feet. The floors aren’t going to sweep themselves Dearie.” I shot her a dazzling smile, and shut the door behind me as I left.

Now, there may have been a few other less… pleasant occurrences. Maybe something involving a wishing well, magic mirror, and a Huntsman sent to rip her heart out, (Which there’s no proof of) but I’m pretty sure the ant thing is what pushed her over the edge. Bottom line: Snow ran away and has been hiding with the 7 Munchkins- or whatever they call themselves- for a week. So, now you’re caught up. Moving on.

Wrapping my cloak about my shoulders, I crept up to the window of the cottage, ducking down to stay hidden. Slowly, I felt around in my pocket for the apple. This was the big moment. I only have one chance. Poison apples don’t just grow on trees you know. And these weren’t just any poison apples. All they have to do is touch your skin, and the poison instantly enters your body. Patiently, I waited for Snow White to make her way over by the window, and when she was close enough…BAM! Popping up, I chucked the apple hard, at her pale face.

I heard a scream and a crash as she crumpled to the floor behind the kitchen table. “Yes!” I cheered, “Bulls-eye! That’s why they call me the Queen! Woot, woot!” Full of excitement, I jumped and cleared the window sill, landing lightly on my feet inside the cottage. “Bam, you can’t touch this.” I jeered. But my victory dance was stopped in its tracks. I stared blankly at the ground. I looked at the apple, lying bruised on the floor next to Snow. Green. Then I gaped at the apple that had just fallen out of my pocket during my jig. Red.

Nearly jumping out of my socks, I screamed as a smooth, pale, flawless hand slammed on the table. It was her. Snow White. “Well looky here,” she cackled, “Seems to me like there’s been a little mix-up now hasn’t there?... Dearie.” An evil chuckle escaped her lips. “I thought that you, of all people, would know that red apples cause ugliness, and green ones result in perfect …wickedness. Oh, what a twist in our story! You came all this way for revenge, and I still remain the Fairest of Them All.” She smoothed her perfectly rumpled skirts, and flashed a me a perfectly wicked grin, her teeth sparkling like perfect little diamonds. Snow waltzed toward me, and I backed away, still dumbfounded by my amateur mistake. “Now, now,” she chided, her words dripping with poison, “What to do with the not-so-powerful-anymore-Queen? Should we push her into a wishing well perhaps? How about make her slave away doing yard work and dishes until her fingers bleed? Oh, I know! Send a Huntsman after her to cut out her heart yes?” she shot me daggers with her electric blue eyes, and I shuddered visibly, “I’m just thinking out loud Dearie, try and keep up.” But I knew she was serious. Dead serious.

If only I had my magic wand with me. I would’ve zapped myself out of there so fast. But there I was, magic-less, scared for my life, cornered by the monstrous witch I’d accidentally created. “Listen, Snow,” I pleaded, “Maybe we can work something out-,” but I was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Marching and singing, the 7 Dwarves hi-hoed into the cottage. When they caught sight of Snow White, they stopped short. Doc, the lead dwarf, stuck his nose in the air.

“Something’s not right,” he observed, “I smell…” *sniff* *sniff* “Dark magic.” His bright blue eyes scanned the room. They finally landed on the green apple, still resting on the floor. I watched as he glanced from the apple, to me, to Snow, and then back again. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, as he tried to piece together what had happened. Then, it all clicked. “Snow White,” Doc said softly, turning to her, “Are you still in there? Can you hear me? Oh no.” Snow just stood there, hands on her hips, a smirk plastered on her face.

“Snow White, Snow White!” She mimicked, “Listen up old man. You and your little friends might want to enjoy your last few minutes because after I’m done dealing with the dear, dear Queen, you’ll be next! So step aside.” Snow pushed her way past Doc and glided over to me. “Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Your choice.” She was so close to me. Her eyes that used to be so happy and kind, were dead. Wait, just a second ago, they looked as if they were about to catch on fire. Before I could think anything else, Snow White fell forward, my own body breaking the witches’ fall. Startled, I scooted back. “What just happened?” I cried, my head whipped back and forth, from one dwarf to the next. The one they called Bashful looked away, pointing at the floor. A golden apple lay on the ground, twice as bruised as the green one. “Bashful,” I started to say, but he cut me off.

“Gold causes death.” Was all he said, before him and his fellow dwarves marched back out the door. I was in shock. Who would’ve thought that the 7 dwarfs-who I had always treated so badly-would be the ones to save me from Snow White? I sighed, my eyes scanning the cottage. I realized how much destruction my lust for revenge had caused, and made a silent promise to myself that I would be better from here on out. There was coal dust from the dwarf’s boots, various apples scattered on the ground, a fire crackling in the hearth, and of course, Snow White. She lay lifeless on the wooden floor. Or so I thought. I gasped as a cold, and perfectly pale hand snatched my ankle. I soon realized though, that I had nothing to worry about. Snow’s breathing was labored, her grip growing weaker by the second. But somehow, her hair was still perfectly styled, her teeth perfectly white, and her last words perfectly…wicked.

“I’m still the Fairest.”

(Editors note: I'm simply being a proud father by posting this! If you enjoyed her writing, you can check out another post she wrote entitled; My Experience With Autism.)


Unknown said…
You should be proud. Very nicely done. It is a very well written and very creative story!

I love it!

Looks like she is blossoming into a beautiful young woman!
Yes she is Lisa! Thank you so much for your comments. I'm glad you enjoyed it! Take care!
Mariann said…
I absolutely LOVE this! I was so drawn in, from beginning to the end! Talented talent!
Mariann, Thanks so much. It is very kind of you to comment! I'll be sure to show my daughter the comments on her post! She'll love it!
Robin Stevenson said…
Love it. A very creative and well-written story- thanks for sharing. I hope your daughter keeps on writing- she does it very well!
Thank you for the comment Robin. I know my daughter will appreciate the encouragement!
David said…
Wow! 15 years old! Yes, you should be proud, and keep her working; if she is this good now, she may certainly make a huge impact on the writing world>
Thanks David. I will "keep her working"! :-)I'll be sure to share your kind words!
Liz Shaw said…
Wonderful! Thank you for sharing this with me!
Thank you for the comment Liz! I'm glad you enjoyed my daughters post!
Viva Equine said…
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