Snow White

Chapter 13

Hey,
Thanks for reading.
Last chapter was pretty intense, but this one I can assure you is much better and I have introduced a few new characters which take the form of the "seven dwarves".
Please vote and comment.
Enjoy,
Annabelle_the_reader
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Snow couldn't see him clearly, as her vision was blinded her thick tears. She raced from the house, not stopping even when the guards tried to stop her. She just carried on running right into the mansion gardens and beyond.

When her feet began to get sore and Snow felt like she had ran enough distance, she began to walk slower, each step more painful than the last. But, thankfully for her, the grass muffled each footstep.

Wrapping her cardigan tighter around her petite and fragile body, Snow considered walking back to collect one of her Father's thick and wooly jumpers. But the risk meant she may not be allowed back out that day and that would cause her unbearable sadness.

The bleak skies were depressing. Winter strangled the land as a pearly moon filled the sky, suffocating those brave enough to venture into the blizzard, perhaps never to return.

Alone in the empty forest with only my thoughts as company, Snow could do nothing but worry for her future.

The canopy of trees above her prevented much light filtering onto the path, therefore Snow had lost all sense of direction, but the lances of its molten-gold beams splashed onto the floor. In places, the dead leaves seemed to be a-fire with an inner glow. The vague outline of tall, ghostly trees were the only thing that reminded me of where she was. That somewhere Harry was raging, stressed about how his fiancé hated him beyond measure.

Eventually Snow reached the heart of the woods, her secret place of sanctuary. The trees gently swayed in the breeze that chilled her throat and attacked her body, causing fear of hyperthermia. Snow couldn't marry such a man as Harold and wouldn't even if he was the last man on Earth.

A tree playfully grabbed her from behind, it's twisted branches holding her tightly as she badly attempted to untangle her hair from its grasp. Snow loved the trees, somewhat causing envy to wash over her. They had no feelings of sorrow, guilt, anger and grief, furthermore they were the one thing no one could not control. Neither her Father, nor mother, nor sister, nor Harold nor even the King could contain them.

The familiar smell of oak, beach, yew and fern wafted up her nostrils delicately, that relaxed her senses and calmed all fear of being alone in the dark woods.

Suddenly, without warning, Snow heard the footsteps, only louder this time. They began to quicken their pace and she panicked, particularly when she heard voices. Maybe her Father had sent men to retrieve her?

Snow began to quicken her pace too, until she began to run once more. Each footstep brought her further away from them, but they appeared to be gaining distance. Snow darted, swerved and dived in and out of trees, shrubs and bushes, running as fast as her legs could carry her.

The adrenaline took over and Snow was in a full sprint, pelting down the hill faster than the speed of light. She ran like her life depended on it, the enjoyment flooding through her. Her head would hit branches and cobwebs, but she barely felt it as her body was so numb.

In winter, the trees become bare of leaf, their sorrow is evident in the leaves that fall, like beautiful tears that crunch not patter as they hit the forest floor. They look like eerie skeletons dancing in the night and becoming frozen by morning.

Snow reached up towards the first branch, her hands protected by red fingerless gloves, but this made no difference in the harsh breeze that sweeps you off your feet. Then carefully, almost painfully slowly, hoisted her leg onto the lowest branches. Holding her hands out either side like professional balancing acts, Snow steadied herself for the following branch.