FAIRYTALES UNTOLD

[TW-this story talks of abuse but in a fairy-tale way]

THE EULOGY

Funerals are supposed to be sad events. People attend these sorts of solemn ceremonies dressed in black, most likely with some crying. I was dressed accordingly for this service, but my inner soul was dancing for joy. Dancing! I did not feel an ounce of grief or sorrow for my step-mother’s passing. She was an evil witch.

My husband, the Prince, agreed. But we knew the importance of keeping up appearances at this time. He was actually responsible for the evil woman’s death, and my hero, but others might not see it that way. No one is above the law, even in a Kingdom. So we dressed in black and attended the service.

Of course we hadn’t planned on me giving the eulogy. When asked, I couldn’t back out without suspicion. What else could we to do? We gathered the high priests around the castle to prepare a suitable tribute, knowing it would be a fabrication. The first time I read the speech in private, I burst out laughing. Such lies!I found out that I was not a very good liar.

“That won’t do,” said my darling prince of a husband. So I stood in front of a mirror…yes, that mirror…and practiced until I could recite the eulogy with a straight face. Almost. The mirror was not impressed, but it was the best I could do.

I had all intentions of going to the podium and reading the prepared eulogy. I even put a tack in each of my shoes, so I could concentrate on the pain, instead of on the words flowing from my mouth. Perhaps even shed a tear from the agony of it all. But I had forgotten how much tolerance I had built up under the torture perpetrated upon me from the malevolent dowager. When the time came to read the eulogy at the funeral, the tacks provided nothing more than a mild discomfort. Temporary at best.

The reading of her eulogy started out all right. Just as we had planned. But my aptly somber demeaner didn’t last long.

“Dearly beloved. We are gathered her to mourn the passing of my dear, de…” Cough, cough. Ahem.

Come on. Say ‘dear.’ I cajoled myself as I paused to clear my throat. Then I looked at my husband, the Prince, and shook my head. I mouthed, “I’m sorry.” I just couldn’t go on. So I tore up the prepared remarks and spoke directly to the people who came to pay their respects.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. You are here to honor and acknowledge my recently departed step-mother, your Queen. I had in my hands, papers upon which were carefully scripted a very sentimental speech, which, under normal circumstances, would be appropriate for a funeral. But instead, I must give you my apologies. While I appreciate your devotion, I cannot give the eulogy I had planned. You all need to know the truth about your Queen. She was evil. And I was not the only one who suffered under her rule. The truth has to come out one day. But I cannot give the eulogy you expected to hear. Please understand.”

The buzz of the crowded sanctuary reverberated as I left the alter. I held my head up high and strode straight out of the cathedral doors, with my husband following, ignoring the rising cacophony behind us. Scandalous, I know!

Days later, after a cursory investigation, my darling Prince was arrested for the murder of the Queen. To be tried by the people of the kingdom. I am heartbroken. If only I could have stayed on script.

What was done, needs now to be undone. I must fix this, and not dwell on the past.

So, I will finally tell my story, and you, dear reader, get to be the judge. Some of my story may be familiar to you, but I am quite sure there are parts that you have not heard before. It is my sincerest wish that you hear me out – forget what has been written in the past – and decide if my Prince is a villain or a hero. The sentence will be death by hanging if the Prince is found guilty of murdering the Queen.

His fate, and mine, is in your hands.

MY STORY

My story begins when I was seven years old. The Queen, my step-mother, was jealous of me, a mere child, and picked one of her huntsmen to take me out to the woods and kill me. Literally, he was to stab me, and then bring back my lungs and liver to prove I was dead. Her plan was to eat my body parts, in a fit of rage. Lovely lady, wasn’t she?

But as luck would have it, the huntsman had a heart. He couldn’t complete the dastardly deed. He told me, “Snow White, the Queen has it in for you. If you return, she will have you killed, and me as well, for not completing my task. So you must run away and never return.”

Run I did. Mind you, I was a child. Only seven. I could not survive for long, especially alone in the great forest. Once again, lady lucky was with me. I providentially met a family of men who lived in a house in the woods; you know them as the seven dwarfs. They were kindly and took me in. I am forever grateful to them.

A number of years later, the Queen found out that I, a young lady now, was still alive. At this point, I knew it was the mirror that had given me up. You see, a mirror doesn’t lie. No one else in the kingdom would have told her, of that I am sure. So the mirror ratted me out and told her I was living with the dwarfs. That sealed my fate, and that of the huntsman, who disappeared shortly thereafter. Sadly, the huntsman who spared my life has never been seen, or heard from, again.

In hiding, I tried to be careful, but the Queen was devious. She disguised herself and came to the house in the woods, where I still lived. She came three separate times, all whilst the dwarfs were at work.

The first time, she came with a lace corset. Naively, I tried it on, but she pulled it so tightly around me, I couldn’t breathe. And left me on the floor to die of asphyxiation. When the dwarfs came home, they thought I was dead. They cut the lace off of me, and I coughed, gasping for air. They brought me back to life.

The second time, she appeared as an old woman with a magic comb. I thought she was a harmless elderly woman selling her wares. I allowed her to put the comb in my hair, not knowing it was drenched in poison. Once again, I almost died. The dwarfs came home in the nick of time to rescue me.

The final time, she came disguised as another old hag, with an apple. It looked delicious, bright red and ripe. But I was suspicious and wasn’t going to take it, let alone eat it. “I’ve been poisoned before. It would be foolish of me to take your apple,” I told the old lady.

To prove to me that the apple wasn’t poisoned, she cut it in half. Of course, the devious harpy gave me the poisoned half. This time, when the dwarfs arrived home, they thought it was too late to save me…that the Queen had finally succeeded in having me killed. That is, until my dear Prince happened along. He dislodged a piece of the poisoned apple from my throat, and I awoke. He saved me.

To make a long story short, we married and should have lived happily ever after. That’s how fairy tales are supposed to end. BUT…

THE DEATH OF A QUEEN

When my now husband, the Prince, found out what the Queen had done, and how determined she was to rid the world of me, he couldn’t let it go. We both knew she wasn’t going to stop trying to hurt me. He felt he had to do something - to save me from her evil once and for all.

He went to the seven dwarfs, who now live in the castle with us, and had them make a pair of iron shoes for the Queen. Once the shoes were made, the Prince put them into the fireplace with burning hot coals. The Queen was then brought to the castle and forced to put on the iron shoes. They were so hot, she couldn’t stay still. He put on some music and we watched her dance until she got so tired, she dropped down and died.

I was saved from her evil wickedness.

I know. I just admitted that the Prince killed the Queen. Was it murder? Or did he act in my defense? Please, don’t judge yet. There is more you need to know. Obviously, one doesn’t wake up one morning and decide to kill a seven-year-old girl… even if they are the jealous type. We knew there had to be more to the Queen’s wickedness.

WHO WAS THE QUEEN?

To find answers, I had to start from scratch. I didn’t even know my wicked step-mom’s name. Oh, she used Grimhilde, Raveena and possibly other names at times, but those weren’t her real name. To me, she was always the Evil Queen or my Evil step-mother. First order of business, we decided to find out more about the Queen and her past.

I collected some hair samples from her hairbrush and sent them to one of those DNA sites. After testing the samples, I received a number of ancestral matches. One by one, the Prince and I investigated the lineage from each of those matches, until we found her parents.

The popular story, the one that has been circulating for years, was devised, no doubt, by the Queen herself. It was designed to garner sympathy. Poor Cinderella - her mother died in childbirth, leaving her to live with her father. A wealthy man, he remarried. But when he died, she was forced to live with her wicked step-mother and two evil, and ugly, step-sisters. Blah blah blah.

It is all lies.

CINDERELLA – THE TRUE STORY

The truth is, her father died a penniless drunk. Seems, when his wife died, he had taken to the bottle. One day, he wandered into the street in a drunken stupor and was hit by a passing horse-drawn carriage. The doctor, not wanting to waste his time on the town bum, said there was nothing he could do to save the man. According to the townspeople, it wasn’t a big loss when her father died.

But they did feel for the child. No one knew her name, so they began calling her Cinderella, because she ran around town in unwashed clothes. Like she had rolled around in cinders from a dirty fireplace. Teased by the other children, she took to stealing from them. First it was food, to quell her hunger, and clothes. But then she started stealing trinkets just for fun. It was no way for a child to live.

Finally, a kindly widow with two girls about Cinderella’s age, offered to take the wayward child into her home and care for her as one of her own. She thought the three girls would all get along, and grow up as besties. But that was not what happened. Soon Cinderella was stealing all their clothes and whatever money the lady and her children had.

Cinderella was smart. She didn’t play with other children -as no one would play with her - but spent her time learning spells and witchcraft. She made friends with wild animals, and sometimes had them do her bidding.

And as she grew, things got worse. She terrorized the family that took her in. Even the kindly lady was afraid of Cinderella. They were living a nightmare - too afraid of what Cinderella would do if they kicked her out of their house, and too afraid to live with her.

The way Cinderella told the story, it was the other way around. She said the family treated her very badly. Making her do chores and stuff. That is, until one day a fairy godmother arranged for her to go to the ball and meet Prince Charming.

According to Cinderella, the ball changed her life – she had a wonderful time dancing with the Prince. But, at midnight, she had to rush out of the ball, much to the chagrin of the smitten royal. And she lost her glass slipper. Prince Charming used that slipper to search the Kingdom for her. Eventually, as she told the story, the Prince found Cinderella, married her, and they lived happily ever after.

Er…no! That’s not what happened.

THE GLASS SLIPPER

The ball did change everything. When the invitation for the ball came, Cinderella hired a nice carriage with all her stolen money, put on a fancy gown and took off. The two step-sisters had to walk to the ball in their school clothes. They were humiliated and left early, crying, leaving Cinderella to dance with the Prince, until – this part is true - at midnight, she left in a hurry, losing one of her glass slippers in her haste.

After the ball, Cinderella put on all sorts of airs, and was worse than ever. She would go around the house singing about marrying the Prince. The step-sisters couldn’t go outside without pigeons, under Cinderella’s spell, pooping on their heads, or dogs chasing them. One time, even the three bears came out of the woods to terrorize them.

The two sisters couldn’t take Cinderella’s torture anymore. They were determined that one of them should marry the Prince, so they could leave Cinderella and live happily ever after in the castle.

Word soon spread throughout the kingdom that the Prince would marry whomever the glass slipper fit. And he set off to find “the one.”

The two sisters were ecstatic. This was their chance! Whatever it takes, they vowed. When Prince Charming came to their house, the sisters were so desperate, they cut off their toes to make the slipper fit. And make it fit, they did.

First the older sister…

But, Cinderella’s pigeons sang:

Rook di goo, rook di goo!

There's blood in the shoe.

The shoe is too tight,

This bride is not right!

So the Prince would not marry the older sister.

Then the younger sister…

And the pigeons sang:

Rook di goo, rook di goo!

There's blood in the shoe.

The shoe is too tight,

This bride is not right!

So the Prince would not marry the younger sister.

Of course the shoe fit when Cinderella tried it on. And the pigeons didn’t sing. Prince Charming wed her the very next day.

PRINCE CHARMING AND CINDERELLA – HAPPILY EVER AFTER?

Well, in the end, Cinderella forgave her wicked step-mother and evil step-sisters. They move into the castle with her and the Prince, and everyone lived happily ever after. One big happy family.

Oops – wrong ending!

There was no forgiveness, no kind feelings. Cinderella called on her obedient pigeons once again and had them peck out one eye from each of her step-family members. Just for spite. And when she saw them again, she told the pigeons to peck out the other eye. They were blinded, and miserable for the rest of their lives. All for the crime of trying to help a fatherless little girl.

And, did Prince Charming and Cinderella lived happily ever after? Not on your life! Cinderella had no intention of giving up her evil ways. Afterall, she had been successful so far. Think of it, a poor little orphaned girl, daughter of a drunken, penniless father, rises to marry the Prince and be the envy of all the people in the Kingdom.

But that wasn’t enough. Cinderella, now a Princess, forbade anyone to call her by that name. Dressed in all the finest clothes, the name no longer fit. She became known as “The Princess With no Name.”

THE QUEEN – MY STEPMOTHER

The Princess With No Name still had other aspirations. Why settle for being a Princess, being married to a Prince, when the power really sat with the King and Queen? She had to get Prince Charming out of the way.

She began experimenting with the making of all sorts of potions. This is when she first learned to make undetectable poisons. Using her new-found skill, she poisoned the crown belonging to Prince Charming. At a ceremony in front of thousands of people, beloved Prince took ill and never regained consciousness.

After grieving for an appropriate amount of time, The Princess With No Name headed to a far-away Kingdom, much larger than the one she had lived in with Prince Charming. Not coincidentally, the King in this far-away Kingdom had just lost his wife.

It wasn’t long before The Princess With No Name caught his eye. The King married her. Now a Queen, she became step-mother to the King’s daughter, also known as Snow White… moi!

And, so you see, we have come full circle.

Your Queen, my step-mother, was none other than the murderous Cinderella herself.

THE VERDICT

My husband, did set into motion the events that caused the death of Cinderella. But remember, she had attempted to kill me four times. She vowed not to stop. Plus, she was connected to the disappearance or death of the huntsman, and the death of Prince Charming. She called on her trained pigeons to poke the eyes out of her step-mother and step-sisters, who live in blindness to this day.

You must determine the fate of my Prince. It is time now for the verdict.

So, ladies and gentlemen, now that you know the true story of the evil Queen, Cinderella, what say ye?