"Happy endings aren't always what we think they will be, but that's exactly what makes them special."
A book filled with hope and fairytales, Once Upon a Time, fell on Ivy Belfrey's lap, giving her hope that both heroes and villains can have a happ...
Henry: The lights flickered, the room kept spinning, I heard voices even though my mind was shut, I saw stuff and my eyes were closed.
"Mom?" That's what I asked, before collapsing in front of the two women I loved. Amy the bartender who I loved as if she were my mom and Ivy the girl I fell in love with during our trip.
"Mom?" I asked again, but this time it was just a whisper inside the depths of my brain, as I felt the two women I cared for keeping me comfortable in my bed. And this time it was a child's voice.
"How the hell did this happen to you?" A small green eyed boy with a grey and red scarf, black coat and a giant storybook in his hands showed up with a very disappointing look.
"Henry?" I asked, not very aware of the redundancy. That was Henry Mills from my book, the boy who looked like me but instead was filled with hope and belief. The truest believer.
"We were special, even Peter Pan wanted our heart so he could fly and be immortal again! Now look at you, a sad little man who refuses to believe! Refuses to remember!" The kid was really angry at me, like if I were a failed version of the man he wished to be.
"Look, I don't know what's happening, this is some crazy dream and I need to wake up."
"You couldn't be more right. You have to remember the life you lost now more than ever. Lady Tremaine will take away your kid she'll hurt Drizella just like she did to Cinderella. Remember her? Olive toned skin, amber eyes, curly brown hair. What about your other daughter?"
"Of course I remember Lauren and Aby, stop with this, okay? This isn't some fairytale."
"Yes it is, now come on, wake up! They're not dead. They're real names are Ella and Lucy, they're your other family."
"Stop, okay?! They're dead, I saw the fire! They're gone!" I screamed, holding on to the truth that ironically enough became my safe shelter, the only thing that held me to the real world.
"Why are you so stubborn?! You're supposed to believe better than most. I know you didn't want to become Prince Charming, that we fooled ourselves into thinking we could, but we don't have to do this alone, okay? We don't have to break the curse and fight Tremaine on our own. We have our family to help us."
"You really want me to believe all this stuff?" I asked, kneeling in front of the kid, as he did the same.
"I need you to, we all do. Don't be afraid, Emma is here, all the others will soon be too. We can fight the darkness together and you'll find yourself."
"I don't want to be Prince Charming...I can't..."
"I know and it's okay. You're better than that, Henry. You're a writer!" The kid handed me his giant book and told me to look at it very closely. "Take this. It's the storybook, only this is version two. Our story. You must remember everything."
I listened to my younger version's wise words, I finally accepted that he wasn't just the Henry from my book, he was me.
My eyes shut down inside that vision of the pitch black nothingness and that's when I remembered everything, for real this time.
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