Blood flees to the bottoms of my feet as I squeeze my eyes shut. Life is so unfair. I’m finally again Fairest of All, and I’m going to be a goner! An icy sting shoots up my legs, then zaps my body. Is this how death feels? Daring to open my eyes, I find myself under water. I’ve landed in a river! I hold my breath, but as I sink deeper, my lungs may burst. Death still awaits me. I finally hit rock bottom. Instantly, I catapult upward.
My head powers through the surface of the water. I’m alive! Desperate for air, I open my mouth wide, catching raindrops on my tongue. Victory is mine. It’s time to wave bye-bye to that pack of vertically challenged losers. I look up, but I might as well kiss my life goodbye. The boulder is toppling toward me at dizzying speed!
A bolt of raw energy surges through my veins. Kicking and stroking furiously, I battle the fierce current and swim away a split second before the boulder crashes into the water. I hold on to dear life as the waves of its aftermath thrash me around like an angry dragon’s tail.
The next thing I know I’m lying facedown on a hard, muddy surface. Land! The river must have washed me ashore. As I stagger to my feet, my eyes light up. Straight ahead of me is my majestic castle sitting high and mighty on its perch. I can practically hear my magic mirror welcoming me home.
Except there’s no way my mirror will recognize me. Soaked to the bone, I must look like a drowned witch.
Not wasting a second, I rip off my stinking-wet hag rag and the nose. I toss everything into the river and let the current carry it away. It’s a good thing I threw on a backpack last minute with my don’t-leave-home-without-them necessities. It’s sopping wet, but otherwise intact. I tear it open, slip on my black velvet cloak, and apply my favorite red lipstick, charcoal brow liner, and creamy foundation with sun protection.
The final touch: my gold crown. I cradle it in my hands and admire it. It’s worthy of only one legendary beauty--yours truly.
Mirror, mirror. Ready or not, here I come. Suddenly, two bone-crushing hands grip my arms. I crank my head around and practically choke when I come face to face with my assailant. The Huntsman!
“You’re under arrest for murder!”
CHAPTER 2
Ha! They’ll never prove me guilty, I tell myself as spectators clamor into the courtroom where I’m being tried for Snow White’s murder. I bet every fairy-tale freak in the world is here. Giants. Gnomes. Ogres. Trolls. You name it. It’s a circus. And I’m the star.
Chained to a wooden chair that’s bolted to the floor, I laugh silently as the freaks make a beeline for the best seats. Sitting here, at least, beats being holed up in that cold, mirrorless dungeon for a month. Reporters from the Fairytale Tattler are lined up, falling over each other to get a good look at me. I plaster a charming smile on my face. Trust me, I’m going to give them a great story. With a happy ending.
The judge, a big fat woman, with spiky hair the color of a blood orange and a small gold crown, strolls up to her bench like a queen to her throne. “Order in the Court!” she roars in a deep, husky voice. She pounds her gavel. The room shakes. Obviously, she’s got a big fat temper too.
She calls the first witness. The Huntsman. As he lumbers up to the stand, rage and regret consume me. I should have never trusted the spineless twit. I should have done him in when he brought me back some beast’s heart, pretending it was Snow White’s. I should have ripped out his heart. Yes, that’s what I should have done.
I cringe as he confesses everything…how I bribed him to take Snow White into the forest and kill her…threatened his life. So, it was boar’s heart he brought back. The wuss!
His forest green eyes stay riveted on me as a tear trickles down his thick dark beard. “I just couldn’t bring myself to harm that sweet, beautiful girl.”
Beautiful? My blood curdles. I want to sink my teeth into him like a mad dog.
The Huntsman faces the judge. “Your honor, Jane needs help.” His voice wavers. “Before she does more evil.”
How dare he call me by my first name! And how the hell does he know it?
The judge turns her jowly face toward me. I count her chins. Three!
“So what do you have to say for yourself?” she asks.
I quickly compose myself. Time for a little self-defense. Rising, I tell the court, in my calmest voice, that what The Huntsman said is all a bunch of lies. To get back at me for firing him. And with Snow White dead, he can’t prove a thing. “There’s not an evil bone in my body,” I add, almost with a laugh.
Okay. I lied. I’m going to destroy this insolent traitor and those damn dwarfs as soon as soon as I’m free.
The judge looks back at The Huntsman and presses her heart-shaped lips into a hard, grim line. My heart hammers.
“Dismissed!” she thunders with a bang of her gavel.
Inwardly, I breathe a sigh of relief.
The Huntsman plods out of the courtroom, not once taking his eyes off me.
I sit back down. Score one for me.
“Next witness,” hollers the judge.
The Seven Dwarfs march into the court with a vengeance. They’re in their grungy work clothes. Good. That’s not going to help with their credibility.
“Do you recognize this woman?” asks the judge.
Fourteen eyes lay rest on me.
My body doesn’t move a muscle. But inside my heart is racing. Stay calm. Just stay calm.
The dwarfs study my face, then shake their heads in unison.
“We’ve never seen her before,” says the one wearing spectacles.
Ha! I’m out of here. Not so fast. The dwarf at the end of the lineup bashfully comes forward. I hold my breath.
“The woman who poisoned our beloved Snow White was a witch, not a beauty.”
How sweet of him to say! I purse my lips and blow the runt a kiss. He blushes.
The tiniest one with the big ears opens his mouth, but the judge bangs her gavel before he can utter a word.
“Dismissed!” she shouts, rolling her eyes with impatience.
The little suckers file out of the courtroom, and I sigh another deep breath of relief. Smart thing I tossed my disguise into that river. There’s no evidence to prove I killed Snow White. In no time, I’ll be free to go back to my castle and lay it on the line with my magic mirror. “Let’s get one thing straight, smart one. I’m the fairest one of all.”
The judge’s thunderous voice catapults me back to reality. “Will the last witness please step forward?”
My eyes flicker around the courtroom. Who the hell is she talking about? There are no other witnesses. Well, except for that snake which I’m sure won’t be slithering in here anytime soon.
There’s a loud, collective gasp as the witness enters the courtroom. My mouth drops to the floor. It can’t be! But it is! Snow White!
Wearing the same puff-sleeve rag she’s always worn and that same revolting red velvet bow, she waltzes toward the stand.
My eyes fix on her face. Her lips are as red as blood, her hair as black as ebony, and her skin as white as snow. In fact, her skin is fairer than ever. Damn it! There’s nothing like a deep sleep to make your complexion glow. My body shakes with envy.
Facing the stunned courtroom, she tells the judge how the dwarfs kept her preserved in a glass coffin. The “sweeties” just couldn’t bear to part with her.
I don’t get it. She was dwarf-proof dead.
“So, how exactly did you get here?” snaps the judge, her interest piqued.
“This morning, a handsome prince rode by and woke me with a kiss,” she says dreamily.
With nothing but a kiss? Rage is shooting through me like a thousand crossbows. I paid a fortune for that evil potion. I deserve a refund.
“We’re getting married,” she beams.
What! She’s going to live happily ever after? I’m close to imploding as the courtroom erupts into raucous cheers and applause.
“Order in the court!” roars the judge, jiggling her layers of jowls.
As the courtroom
quiets, Snow White’s eyes meet mine. Tears stream down her cheeks. “I feel for you,” she says.
I feel for her too. An unbearable hatred that makes me want to jump out of my skin. I want to kill her! I want her dead!
The judge reaches down under her bench and holds up something as if it were a dead rat.
My hag rag! It must have washed up on shore. My heart leaps to my throat. I’m doomed!
“Miss White, do you recognize this?” asks the judge, puckering her lips in disgust.
Terror washes over Snow White’s porcelain face.
“Yes, the woman who gave me the apple was wearing that,” she says, her voice trembling.
The judge shoots me a contemptuous look and then bangs her gavel. “Off with her head!” she roars.
I’m numb. My life is over!
“Your Honor, please be lenient on her,” pleads Snow White. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”
“Yes, I do deserve a second chance--this time to get it right and destroy you once and for all, Snow White!” My stepdaughter blanches, her snow-white skin turning whiter than ever. The judge fires me another dirty look and slams her gavel once more.
“I hereby sentence The Evil Queen to one hundred years in prison!”
One hundred years! The words reverberate in my head. One hundred years! What will I look like when I come out? That is, if I come out. The headline in tomorrow’s Fairytale Tattler flashes through my head: “Evil Queen’s Fairest Days are Over!”
CHAPTER 3
I’m back in that mirrorless dungeon. It’s the kind in the middle of nowhere you can never escape even if you think you can. I’m devoid of all worldly contact, except for a lowly guard. A dim-witted green ogre who brings me meals. Lousy meals I barely touch. Trust me, I’d rather eat green curds and whey.
Every day, I beg him to go to my castle to fetch my magic mirror. I want to know what I look like. Where I stand. I’ve even promised him a royal position if does me this one itsy bitsy favor. He can be my new Huntsman. No deal.
Seven years. That’s how long I’ve been here. The only way I know is by the monthly magazines the guard brings me. His wife works at some beauty center and gets all these style and beauty magazines free. Palace Digest, Princess, Royal Style to name a few. Rather than throwing them out when she’s done with them, her husband, the ogre, passes them on to me.
The magazines have helped me pass the time away. Even better, they’ve kept me up on the latest beauty trends. If I ever get out of this hellhole, I know what I have to do. Go to a spa! That’s what all the fairy-tale princesses are doing these days. I grit my teeth every time I think about Snow White living the spa-life--happily ever after--while I’m rotting away in this cell.
Yes, spa treatments! With a few deep-cleansing facials, body scrubs, and massages--okay, and a little makeup--I’ll knock Snow White right off her pedestal. And I’ll show my stupid-ass looking glass--in fact, any crappy looking glass--who’s Fairest of All.
While I’m reading about the anti-aging benefits of bulbadox juice (I could kick myself for wasting it on that evil potion) in my latest Princess magazine, a jingling sound distracts me. I look up. It’s the ogre, and he’s dangling a large metal key.
“You’re getting out of here.”
Did I hear that right?
“Read this.” He holds up a brochure with an illustration of a castle on the cover.
Tossing my magazine, I wrench it away from him through the rusty iron bars. I start reading.
WELCOME TO FARAWAY
FARAWAY is a unique treatment center that will give you the tools to find your inner princess. It’s a magical place where recovery and self-discovery happen every day. Guests reside in a magnificent castle where they can chill out and relax. Our tranquil center also features an enchanted forest, lush gardens, and a lovely hillside view.
We offer a personalized therapy program, developed by our renowned staff to meet your individual needs. Our unique program offers a variety of proven clinical methods, including one-on-one therapy and supportive group sessions. As part of our multi-faceted program, we offer hiking, Arts and Crafts, nutrition, yoga, and fine dining. You will eat like royalty.
Once we feel you are ready, you will re-enter the enchanted world of fairy tales and participate in our apprenticeship program. Each assignment is customized to meet your special needs and skills. When it is completed to our satisfaction, you will be able to resume your fairy-tale life.
We, at Faraway, provide a comprehensive mind-body experience that treats the needs of the whole person. No wonder our graduates report that their lives are better and more fulfilling in every possible way. You’ll look and feel more beautiful, inside and out. Get ready to live happily ever after!
You’ll look and feel more beautiful. I read the words over and over as the guard unlocks my cell door. I can’t believe it! I’m being sent to a spa! I’m being given a second chance to reclaim what is rightfully mine--my crown and my title, Fairest of All.
***
From a distance, Faraway promises to be everything the leaflet said it would be. Perched high on a hill, the castle looks quite luxurious. It’s even surrounded by a high stonewall and a moat. There’s nothing like privacy.
The coach crosses the drawbridge. As it follows the yellow brick road toward the guardhouse, my heartbeat accelerates. I can hardly wait for my first spa treatment. And, at last, to look at myself in a mirror.
The guard, a friendly giant named Gulliver, unlocks the massive iron gate and lets us in. The driver pulls up to the castle where a plump fairy godmother-type in a green uniform with wings is waving. Of course, she must be a spa attendant. Clever! A fairy spa-mother.
“Welcome to Faraway!” she says in one of those bubbly voices I so hate. “We’ve been expecting you, dearie.”
Dearie? Is she kidding? Doesn’t she mean “My Queen”? Or “Your Majesty” or “Your Highness”? I’d even settle for “Queenie.”
Before I can set her straight, she whisks me inside the castle.
Inside, Faraway doesn’t quite measure up to what I expected. The “grand entrance” is not so grand. The walls are painted dingy yellow, and in some places, there are signs of chipping. The shabby furnishings, for sure, are from some junk store. Nowhere is there evidence of the lush lounging areas I’ve read about in those beauty magazines. Perhaps, the place is about to undergo major renovations. It seriously does need an extreme makeover.
“Here, fill this out.” The fairy spa-mother hands me a sheet of parchment and a quill.
“Please answer all the questions below,” it states on top. Of course, the admissions form.
1. What are your goals here at Faraway?
To get beautiful, then split.
2. Do you have any hobbies and talents?
Disguises. Also, making evil potions.
3. List some of the evil things you’ve done.
Not enough space to write answer.
4. Have you ever had a best friend?
My magic mirror, but we’re not speaking.
5. Have you ever been in love with someone?
Does “myself” count?
6. I care about other people. TRUE OR FALSE?
Trick question! Not answering!
7. What could improve your life?
A facial, massage, and definitely a new mirror.
8. How do you feel about your mother?
NO ANSWER! It’s none of your damn business.
9. What are you most afraid of?
Sunburn.
10. On a scale of 1-10, with 1=My life is a horror story and 10=My life is a fairy tale, how would you rate your life?
10! I’m here, right?
Strange questions, but easy enough. Except for Question #8. Some things are personal. Very personal. Besides, what does my mother have to do with getting a facial or massage? She’s the last person I want to think about. Ever!
The fairy spa-mother snatches the application and reads it over. “Come with
me for your first treatment.” She bounces into the air and then flies down the hall.
Yes! At last! She’s taking me for a facial. Anyone with two eyes can see I desperately need one. Following her, I wonder why I don’t see any princesses with blue facial masks and fluffy white robes. And how come there aren’t any mirrors on the walls?
Along the way, I pass a young woman, who’s so skinny it’s scary, mopping the floors. A good sign of a quality spa, I tell myself, having once read to beware of unsanitary conditions. She shoots me a smirk.
The loser’s just jealous. I almost feel sorry for her. I pick up my pace to catch up with the fairy spa-mother.
She finally touches down in front of a door at the end of the corridor. The words “Private Do Not Enter” are scrawled across it. A treatment room. I can’t wait to step inside.
To my surprise, the room is small and sparse. There’s a simple wooden chair, a small set of drawers, and a bucket of water. And it, too, is painted insipid yellow. Whoever did the interior decorating around this place should be fired.
The fairy spa-mother shoves me onto the chair and drapes a shabby yellow smock over my head.
“Hey, where’s my fluffy white robe?” I ask, shocked to be treated with such indignity. When I’m done with my facial, the first thing I’m going to do is complain and get her fired.
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