SNOWRED

I hear Snow lie back on the bed next door, while I scramble out of bed so quick, I’m just acting on my fury. I tear off the brown night gown, I pull off the socks and throw them on my bed in my fit, and I even tear off my old, washed-a-thousand-times-underwear, the only pair I was allowed to own.

Completely naked, I thread my fingers through my hair, shaking it out and I storm out of my room, fists clenched.

I would not fall asleep being called a granny, insulted in my own home.

I had been fiercely independent for as long as I could remember. Just because I was sweet with my words didn’t mean I was a push over, it didn’t mean I deserved to be laughed at and judged constantly.

In my own way, I was a force of nature, because I was determined and headstrong; more than he knew.

I was sick of Snow being the strong one, the loud one, the robust and confident wolf-man who decided to stride around, insulting me, ripping off all my damn doors and critiquing everything about me.

Scared of the forest.

Granny.

Child.

Huh.

I was fun. I was fun.

I stride out of my room, still naked, I pick up a large butcher’s knife for cutting bone and I stride out the back door.

I slam it, I walk around to Snow’s window, knowing the curtains will be open.

Indeed, I see Snow lying back, but with an elbow extended back, as if he is unsure if he should follow me straight away, as perhaps I was just getting a breath of fresh air.

He hadn’t seen me leave naked, because I knew that bed he reclined on was facing a different way to the hall beyond.

I hold the butchers knife in my fist and I knock my hand on his window, getting his attention. With my breasts in plain sight, and my black long hair covering my nipples, I feel a slight burst of confidence.

I grab the old window and I wrench it up to stick my head in, glaring at Snow as I’ve successfully caught him completely off guard.

Snow’s one eye watches me, his lips in a thin line as he realises I am naked while outside. But it is the night, so who cares.

I know there is no one watching, no one wondered in this Valley beyond the sun setting, there was no point because everyone worked hard enough during the day.

“Get some sleep, old man,” I whisper it, as quietly as possible, just to piss him off, “I’m going for a stroll in the forest that I’m so very afraid of, bye,” I wave my butchers knife around and then I turn and stroll to the tree line with my bare backside towards the window.

I’ve got a few lingering bruises on my body, but at least I can walk with only the slightest limp. And yes, my ass was still pink from his bruising hand 4 nights ago. Brute. I swish my hair to cover my back, and then I walk the rest of the way onto a trail I know well.

The warm air that has melted all the snow, has given life to the rainbow flora now sprouting around me. Some flowers even glow with luminescence in the dark.

The half-moon gives me some extra light, and the sky is cloudless.

The knife in my hand is for precaution, nothing else. Just in case I were to stumble across danger. The nakedness was to show that I did have a wild and carefree side.

I was not a granny.

I was 20 years old, and yes, I had a shit start to life, but I still had a fire about me too. I wasn’t something to pity constantly. I was fun.

Sometime across the path, it winds up towards a look out of the Ice Valley and the village. I feel my mind taking me there, so I can get a nice view of the city.

Once atop the steep hill, I find a ledge and I cross my legs, laying down the knife, I lean back on my palms and stare at the Valley.

I witness the owls and bats sharing the navy sky, and small dots of flame showing residences scattered throughout the trees… it’s picturesque. It’s safe.

I feel safe.

I lie back, and I feel that Snow hasn’t followed me.

Odd.

However, while I’m waiting for his approach, a vastly different set of events start to take a hold. Things I cannot predict.

My nose twitches, catching a different scent.

The smell of a fire, except it’s too large to be a little log burning in a camp fire.

I sit up to see if I can see the source for such a potent and heavy ash smell.

What is burning?

I look over the ledge to nothing in the Valley below.

I’m too afraid to turn around.

Eventually, I lick my lips, I look over my shoulder and I see the glow is bright.

But it’s not the forest.

I stand up and I pick up the butcher’s knife, sprinting back the way I’ve come.

Was it Barney? Was the jealous Snow, so angry, he decided to burn down my neighbour’s house?

I needed to know.

I run so fast I can barely get enough oxygen to fuel my panicked strides, however… it’s not my neighbour, I can see the logs through the trees – his is untouched.

Up the hill.

No.

I finally make it out of the tree line I left through, my throat closing off, a choked sob making it’s way out of my throat.

“NO!” I fall to my knees, my only home I have left – is alight with flame, burning to the ground.

It’s beyond saving.

And Snow is the one who did it.

Why!

I see him standing near the well, drinking from a bucket, washing his hands, washing his hair back; taking off the soot.

And then Snow turns to me, picking up a coat for me against the well’s edge, and his blue eye glows mischievously as he watches me and casually stalks toward me.

I remain speechless, upon my knees, devoid of all emotion.

He simply walks around me, and stands behind me.

Snow drapes the coat across my naked shoulders, “You’re not living in this cursed house anymore, Ellie,” Snow murmurs the command, “You’re coming with me.”

“I have no where else to go, but with you!” I turn in the dirt and launch to my feet, beating my fists into his chest, “You knew this was my last chance!” Snow’s face is alight with the house burning up, as he watches me with not just impatience but a royal impudence as well. I can see his entitlement so clearly now, “You’re so selfish,” I hiss, “Selfish! I don’t have to go with you, I’ll go to Barney for help,” I shove him in the chest and walk past him. Before I do, Snow snatches the knife from me as I’m distracted. I pause, but then I keep walking. Snow lets me get a few strides ahead, but then he just intercepts me, wraps an arm around my waist and hauls me back, spinning me and promptly throwing me over his shoulder, striding into the forest after I’m held tight, “WHY, SNOW?!”

“I smell her on the wind, the Queen,” Snow murmurs, quietly, “You’re in danger. Besides, all those things you’re missing from your house – your lovely neighbour stole them. I checked his house out during the day, he’s a thief and a petty one at that. You silly child, trusting in idiots.”

“What did you say?” I lose my hysteria for a moment and I beat his back once, “Let me see what he stole for myself.”

Snow pauses dramatically, and drops me, hearing my sudden calm.

I stand in front of him and I search his eye, he seems to be telling the truth.

I walk past Snow and he turns to follow close behind, grabbing my shoulder tight so I don’t fall.

“Slow,” Snow whispers in my ear, “You make so much noise with your feet, place them more carefully in the forest, Ellie.”

I just nod and Snow doesn’t remove his hand even when I try to shrug him off.

Once we close the distance to Barney’s house, I sneak up to a living room window and peek inside.

Essential utensils, clothes even, all the valuable items of the dead. Abusers or no, this was disrespect at its worst. I had patched those clothes so many times, I had carved some of those utensils myself.

I go to scream my fury and stamp my way to Barney’s window, but Snow had been anticipating this reaction.

I don’t even get to part my lips before Snow smacks a hand over my mouth, hauling me back into his chest, to press his lips to my ear, “…if you want me to kill him… Ellie… I’ll do it… just say the word…”

What…?

The chill of death runs down my spine.

Snowred is speaking now.

It shocks me out of my emotions.

…the evil Queen used to ask him to kill so easily like that.

Snow takes his hand from my lips, awaiting my answer, his form is tense and coiled behind me, ready to seemingly do as I so bid...

I step to the side, and I gaze into another window, where a curtain is parted… where I see Barney sleeping.

Soundly.

Oblivious to the pain of others.

As my house burns.

As he lies under a quilt I made but didn’t give as a gift.

“Ellie?” Snow growls quietly, prompting me to respond.

I could say yes.

I could get my revenge.

But what would it cost?

What would it mean?

Another heart, torn from another chest?

I don’t think so.

“No,” I murmur my answer, “Leave him.”

And that is all I have to say.

Snow turns and we walk off, his breathing is so quiet I almost think he doesn’t breathe at all. His large hand lies still firmly upon my shoulder, guiding me back into the forest… away from the Ice Valley…

...and back into isolation.