𝓦𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝓘𝙩 𝓑𝙪𝙧𝙣, 𝗔𝗡 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗔𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗛 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗟𝗬 𝗙𝗜𝗖

𝓟𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚

Once upon a time, there sat a troubled Narrator, Nadine Ink, who was me.

"What shall I do?" I whispered, staring at the pages before me. No matter how the fairytale starts and ends, it's universally acknowledged that the story differs from who tells it. The words once upon a time or happily after are subjective, they are meaningless. With retellings upon retellings, our story starts at Ever After High. I sit here at my little writing desk, tapping my feet on the creaking wooden floorboards and biting my lip as I decide what to do. They don't deserve this, I thought remorsefully. But it isn't my place to decide, is it? As a Narrator, it was important to never be biased or risk ruining the protagonist's narrative. Yet, the irony of being a Narrator was that you either knew how the story ended or not at all. "The tales of the Royals, Rebels, and Roybels can not end like this..." Tsk, tsk, I could hear my mother's voice enter my mind. I knew you should have stayed a Narrator-in-training, you get attached to these characters too easily.

Perhaps, Mama was right.

"It was never supposed to end up like this," I muttered, biting my lips until I tasted blood. Buying myself more time, I grabbed my quill, dipping it into the ink bottle next to me. The bottle got knocked off, and the black ink spilled over the desk, my hands, and most importantly; the pages of the book. I stood up immediately, swearing as I fumbled with the quill and bottle. The ink seeped into the pages, obscuring some of the images and text. "Shit, shit—" I thumped the wooden desk with my ink-covered hands in frustration. Everything was ruined. With the sweet-pea-scented candle's flames casting a harsh light over my brown-coloured skin, my nose scrunched up in deep concretion, and the ink trickling into the fine lines of my palms, I couldn't escape Mama's voice in my head. Yet, you were always so poetic, she would whisper, tucking a stray curl behind my ear, smiling warmly. I missed Mama dearly.

Staring at the ink-spilled pages, my eyes softened. I always did get too attached. There was the lovable Apple White, always so keen and set on her destiny, the most dedicated Royal. "She has to do it! I mean if she never poisons me, then I'll never fall asleep... And I'll never be kissed by my prince! And I'll never become Queen! And I'll never have my 'Happily Ever After!'" Those were the words that Nadine memorized by heart. But then her thoughts flickered to the next Evil Queen.

Raven Queen, always unsure of her wicked destiny, the rebellion starter. "I am Raven Queen and I am going to write my own destiny, my happily ever after starts now." Those words were more than chilling... Yet it stuck with me. My eyes went to the melting candle, the lit flame flickering, struggling to stay. Then, the flame died, leaving myself in the darkness. Fumbling in the dark, I took my matchbox, lighting another match. The room illuminated once more as I lit the candle's fallen wick, breathing in the scent of sweet peas, closing my eyes briefly. Perhaps destined to be a Writer than a Narrator, my dear Nadine, Mama's voice danced along with the soft floral scent that wafted throughout the room as I reopened my eyes, having a fresh perspective.

"Not all pages are ruined," I said to myself, picking up the book, ink dripping onto my clothing. Perhaps the story can be rewritten, no matter the risk, I thought hurriedly. It was forbidden for Narrators to interfere with their chosen story, it would ruin the storyline. Yet... "Not ruined, just different," I murmured, biting my lip. Perhaps destined to be a Writer. Setting down the book and picking up my inked quill instead, I drew a sharp, shaky breath. Here goes nothing...