What if I told you that I am that ‘Evil Queen’ who, pragmatically, established the clear boundaries of evil against the good with a help of an apple? What if I told you the mirror I was infamously portrayed with, was no magical but a concrete reality that unveiled my harrowed insecurities and loathly self, who only wanted to feel better of herself but kept misquoting her worth through a lowly piece of glass.
What if I confess that it wasn’t my dark magic that conjured up all the poison in that apple but the debris of my self-respect which was smothered under the pretense of an ugly face I carried, by all those bullies who knew nothing about looking beyond the pale, helpless skin. When I was falling off over the destroyed precipice of my innocent self, no one paid heed to a good heart before calling me a wicked soul.
What if I told you the time has gone by and the Snow White(s) of today isn’t a synonym of fairest skin and purest heart? Or who is to know in the former era, who the actual evil was? The stories are told and briefcase-d the way it suits the purpose of the past and the message to be sent across into the future.
That poisoned apple was a reply to all those criticism I had to endure because of those bullies. And believe me, evil isn’t born in a single night but sculpted through tremendous hate and hostility, forcefully hammering distaste inside and axing out the appreciable parts.
The reason it was taken out from the pages of history or better-called fiction, is because it held shreds of evidence of a crossover with Dr. Frankenstein, when I begged him to revive my innocent self while I was on the verge of losing it but what unleashed was was a monster that killed everyone in its way, even the people most loved by it. That apple was an embodied version of a poisoned monster I never knew existed in me before I met the fiend one, called discrimination.