when they heard about me, the Queen who sought to eat her daughter’s heart and liver.
Shame on you, Wilhelm. How could you play around with characters as if we didn’t exist. You, of all authors, know why I had to do it. You know that my actions were justified, that I was saving my kingdom from her wrath. The same way that you had to rewrite the true fairytales, making parents feed their children false bedtime stories night after night, generation after generation, lie after lie, until your lies turned into memories sewn into their velvet membranes. Your happy ever after lies, Wilhelm, shaped the world we live in now.
Sometimes, I wonder why you didn’t burn the Books of Sand that hold the original scripts instead of rewriting them. I guess you figured that sooner or later someone would dig up the truth and expose you, so altering it was the smarter solution. You manipulated children into believing that the bites were resurrecting kisses, and that torturing glass coffins were made for sleeping beauties waiting for prince charming to come and kiss them awake.
They say the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist, but the truth is that the greatest trick was convincing the world he was someone else. This is what you have done to us, Wilhelm. You have turned us into pastiches of the immortals that we really are.
Still, I know that you had no choice, and that you did it to save us from her and her seven friends whose names we don’t exactly know.
I appreciate how you have kept our real names hidden, or we would have ended up like Rumpelstiltskin, who when his real name was found out, power was held over him. But sometimes, I can’t help but wonder why no one ever wondered why I was called the Evil Queen, and why I was never given a real name in the books.
Was I so superficial to the world, so stereotypical and mundane? Why did they treat me as if I were just the monster of the week? You know what I think? I think that they never got the time to really hate me, but they wanted to hate me long before they’d even met me. They wanted to avenge their childhood princess by laying all the blame on me.
If I tell them what she really is, would they ever care about me half as much as they care about her?
I know that deep inside, in the very heart of their dreams, they adore me. They like the way I talk, walk, dress, and even kill. They are just scared like the others, afraid to admit how much they love the Snow White Queen who doesn’t need anyone’s pity or love, because I am loved by the greatest and most majestic heart in the world:
Mine.
But that’s all in the past. It’s 2012 now, Wilhelm. Two hundred years after you first cursed us and trapped us in the Dreamworld. But like Sleeping Beauty’s curse, it was flawed. We’re granted to wake up for a brief time once every one hundred years, and we’re back again.
It’s true that most of us are lost, not remembering who we really are, whether in dreams or in real life, but we will find each other, and this time, I will win this war for good. I will bring down the superficial world that praises fairy tales as happy ever afters without even knowing what they are talking about. I have to do it fast because if I don’t, she might rise again from her glass coffin and torture us with that innocent deadly smile on her blood-red lips.
Do you have any idea how many times I have tried to kill her in the last two hundred years, Wilhelm? Do you have any idea?
I tried witchcraft, charms, demons, bloodsuckers, plagues, poison, Black Death, and every form of killing known to the world. I begged the seas, oceans, and volcanoes to kill her, but it was all in vain. I went as far as to bury her in the Dreamworld, six dreams under , where no immortal has ever survived before, all but her, and only the devils know how.
She is empowered by the love of the children who adore her. Every time a child dreams – or daydreams about her –,
Shame on you, Wilhelm. How could you play around with characters as if we didn’t exist. You, of all authors, know why I had to do it. You know that my actions were justified, that I was saving my kingdom from her wrath. The same way that you had to rewrite the true fairytales, making parents feed their children false bedtime stories night after night, generation after generation, lie after lie, until your lies turned into memories sewn into their velvet membranes. Your happy ever after lies, Wilhelm, shaped the world we live in now.
Sometimes, I wonder why you didn’t burn the Books of Sand that hold the original scripts instead of rewriting them. I guess you figured that sooner or later someone would dig up the truth and expose you, so altering it was the smarter solution. You manipulated children into believing that the bites were resurrecting kisses, and that torturing glass coffins were made for sleeping beauties waiting for prince charming to come and kiss them awake.
They say the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist, but the truth is that the greatest trick was convincing the world he was someone else. This is what you have done to us, Wilhelm. You have turned us into pastiches of the immortals that we really are.
Still, I know that you had no choice, and that you did it to save us from her and her seven friends whose names we don’t exactly know.
I appreciate how you have kept our real names hidden, or we would have ended up like Rumpelstiltskin, who when his real name was found out, power was held over him. But sometimes, I can’t help but wonder why no one ever wondered why I was called the Evil Queen, and why I was never given a real name in the books.
Was I so superficial to the world, so stereotypical and mundane? Why did they treat me as if I were just the monster of the week? You know what I think? I think that they never got the time to really hate me, but they wanted to hate me long before they’d even met me. They wanted to avenge their childhood princess by laying all the blame on me.
If I tell them what she really is, would they ever care about me half as much as they care about her?
I know that deep inside, in the very heart of their dreams, they adore me. They like the way I talk, walk, dress, and even kill. They are just scared like the others, afraid to admit how much they love the Snow White Queen who doesn’t need anyone’s pity or love, because I am loved by the greatest and most majestic heart in the world:
Mine.
But that’s all in the past. It’s 2012 now, Wilhelm. Two hundred years after you first cursed us and trapped us in the Dreamworld. But like Sleeping Beauty’s curse, it was flawed. We’re granted to wake up for a brief time once every one hundred years, and we’re back again.
It’s true that most of us are lost, not remembering who we really are, whether in dreams or in real life, but we will find each other, and this time, I will win this war for good. I will bring down the superficial world that praises fairy tales as happy ever afters without even knowing what they are talking about. I have to do it fast because if I don’t, she might rise again from her glass coffin and torture us with that innocent deadly smile on her blood-red lips.
Do you have any idea how many times I have tried to kill her in the last two hundred years, Wilhelm? Do you have any idea?
I tried witchcraft, charms, demons, bloodsuckers, plagues, poison, Black Death, and every form of killing known to the world. I begged the seas, oceans, and volcanoes to kill her, but it was all in vain. I went as far as to bury her in the Dreamworld, six dreams under , where no immortal has ever survived before, all but her, and only the devils know how.
She is empowered by the love of the children who adore her. Every time a child dreams – or daydreams about her –,
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