• Her hair is almost as thick and silky as mine.

    Her skin is the color of snow like mine.

    Red lips smile upwards as her father plants a kiss on her forehead while reading to her before she sleeps.

    She is like me, she is a rival I must destroy.

    The mirror upon my wall used to praise me, I the fairest.

    I the one with the most beatiful face and soul.

    I the one whose beauty was well known.

    I watch as she grows up while I myself begin to age. My skin is no longer pure as snow, my red cheeks are full of wrinkles, and my hair black as night begins to grow gray.

    The mirror hangs in silence as I realize I can no longer grow as she blooms into a rose.

    She must die. I must take back my title.

    She runs away after enchanting the hunter I tried to hire to murder her and flees to hide in the woods which is the home to the seven drawfs, deformed little men.

    I plead to the mirrror, who is the fairest? Is it not I? I who has the purest heart?

    No? It is she? YOU LIE! Was it not I who is the fairest in the land?!

    I take a red apple off the apple tree as I creep close to the hut housing that she-devil. I master the black magic needed.

    I hand her the apple, how her little pale white hands look like lilly petals....

    How her fingers are slender and hold the apple delicately....

    How I wish to take my own hands, wrinkled and bruised, around that pretty little neck of hers and strangle her.

    The apple is brought to her lips until suddenly I take out a dagger and slice through it. The blade has cut cleanly right over her eyes.

    She recognizes me now, how her voice sounds so ugly as she screams in horror and anger. How hideous she is as she sobs and covers her bleeding face.

    I laugh, a laugh that sounds like a beautiful song. She blindly reaches a bloody hand to me, begging me to help her. Saying if this is all that she could provide to keep me happy she forgives me.

    Oh I am.

    I ignore her and run back to the mirror. Mirror, mirror who is the fairest? Isn't it I?!

    The mirror heeds me no answer until it suddenly reflects-WHO IS THAT MONSTER?! NO!! IT IS NOT I!! I AM BEAUTIFUL STILL!!!!

    My daughter stumbles into the chamber with her deformed "friends" whispering that she loves me despite the monster I've become.