Snow

one.

snow was woken up as if she were a mouse beneath the floor. carelessly, her father stomped as hard as he could coming into the small, cramped apartment. the floorboard creaked, like it could break if a feather touched the ground. he slammed the door shut, which really woke snow up. you could hear his useless murmurs, his deep breathy exhales. how he'd grunt and then smash his empty beer bottle against the cupboard. snow only rolled her eyes. this was normal, at least for her.

she tried to close her eyes again. but all she could do was picture her father with that whore he called a wife, as they were fighting in the kitchen, rather loudly. snow hated her step mother. she was the dirt under the grass, the gross stuff underneath her nails. her step mother, embodied everything tortuous and awful in the world. sure, her step mother never did anything that could possibly make snow hate her as much as she did, aside from a few snarky remarks and death glares, but instead she took the attention that snow what supposed to have.

and it infuriated her entire being. snow brushed yesterday off of her shoulders. it was a new day after all. picking up the mirror off of her night stand, snow couldn't help but admire it. it was old, rusted silver, and the glass itself was cracked like vines you'd find on the side of a brick building. it was a strange beauty, but the most perfect companion. snow took it everywhere she'd go. it was her solace, a bright light on a dark day. she'd often need it the most when her father would decide to abuse her.

looking into the broken glass and melted reflection, snow held a crooked smile. she was so beautiful. twirling her ebony hair in her porcelain fingers. lips red like apples, eyes as brown as hazelnuts in a tree, and then she had freckles littered across her face like a thousand stars. snow didn't know why her father didn't love her. she was the fairest in the house, after all.

yet deep down, she knew it was all because of her dead mother. her father, once a jolly soul, who would volunteer at the soup kitchen and sing every moment he had, loved her mother. so much that it hurt. but then snow came crashing in like a storm killing her mother. snow's father had resented her since the day she came into the world. she took the thing in his life that was most important to him. and every time he would see his daughters' face, his dead wife would be looking back at him.

snow stepped out of her room quietly, her father and step mother still bickering like rats. she was hoping to go for a run in the woods, to get away from the loud noises and bask in the brilliance of silence. it was her favourite thing to do, but rarely had the chance to do it.

opening the door, snow launched herself onto the pavement, quickly going down the metal steps, running her hand along the old, creaky rail. she then passed the abandoned building she had once slept in, when her father kicked her out for three weeks. sometimes snow would hang out there, bring pillows and blankets and lights that looked like fairies. snow pretended it belonged to her, a simple room that was ten feet wide and ten feet long. it was her kingdom and she was the queen. snow could make her own rules here, nobody could tell her what to do.

entering the woods, snow came to an abrupt stop. closing her almond eyes, she let her head rest, finally. all chaos and bad things were banished from her mind, but instead now replaced with crickets and woodsy pine. the forest was made up of different shades of grass and dirt, it was summer, so the moisture stuck to snow's forehead like gum under a table. strolling deeper into the woods, her breath hitched. a fawn had crossed her path, and was standing only a few inches from snow. it was gorgeous, nibbling on some girth while the sun hit the deer so intensely. it might've been the most beautiful thing in the world.

her breathing became deeper, more anxious and thunderous. she ruffled her hair, twitched her nose. snow knew what she had to do, even though it was really, such a shame.

picking up the largest rock she could find, snow grasped it tightly in her right hand. so tight her palm started to bleed red down her porcelain skin.  snow didn't notice the sting, or that someone had been watching her since the moment she entered the woods. her focus was on the perfect fawn who was eating grass by the tall pine tree.

with the rock in her hand snow ran up to the deer and smashed it across its head. and kept pushing harder and harder until snow was satisfied with the amount of blood and the stillness she saw.

you see, snow loved animals, sometimes she would even talk to them. but this fawn was too pretty, too beautiful, too brillant. snow would always be the fairest of them all, she would make sure of it.

poor snow was so caught up in her vanity, she didn't notice malevolent, crystal eyes behind the tree trunks, watching and analyzing her every move.