Pleasant Rosebud - Romantic Suspense

MYOPIA – LILY 4 (Final Part)

June 26, 2017

Running from the beast had never been my plan. I had thought he would be my final stop, but was afraid of what he could do to me. After escaping his clutches, and with no money and a place to go, I was disgruntled. My only companion was my hand-crafted pouch, which housed my silver mirror, potions book, a gray blanket, a matchbox, and some herbs and fruits.

For weeks, I wandered aimlessly, and only relied on nature to keep me alive. I felt and looked filthy. In those weeks of wandering, a proper meal and bath became a luxury. I would have settled for a while in the village close to the beast’s fortress but fear of him coming to recapture his slave prevented me. At this point, my stupid search for a happy fairy tale ending, fizzled. I only wanted to return home.

On numerous occasions, I tried to retrace my steps but just couldn’t remember where I came from, what the name of my village was, or who my people were. In fact, it was hard for me to remember the past events in my life. My memories became foggy, faces and names disappeared from my thoughts. Oft times, some things would become familiar but that was it. After a while, I gave up on my quest to return to my village. I doubted I’d recognize my home even if I found it.

My amnesia could have occurred due to several reasons, but most likely the unstable instant hair-growth potion. I had not used all the right condiments for it and had substituted some unavailable ones. The potion had worn off quickly and left me with uneven waist-length hair. My memory loss could have also been caused by the numerous strange fruits and plants I lived on during my wandering weeks. Aside from the amnesia, I suffered other weird side effects. There were moments I looked almost three times my age. My skin would become wrinkly and pale, and my hair would be gray. Other times I’d look like a fresh teenager with cheerful cheeks and lively skin. Due to this ‘disease’ I became withdrawn and insecure.

Finally, I found a small settlement to call home. I sold potions to make ends meet and withdrew from the society. I became a highly skilled and sought-after potion-maker, and later created an elixir, which helped control my disease. It kept me young and beautiful, though its ingredients were rare and pricy.

My name soon became famous and attract wealthier, more desperate clients. Human leaders and creatures alike sought after my expertise. However, one visit from a king ended my career and changed my life forever.

He was the most handsome creature I had seen on two legs. He had wavy brown hair and bright blue eyes. His jaw handsomely jutted out and elevated his full heart-shaped lips. His face, carved by a healthy beard, thick eyebrows and an aristocratic nose balanced out his features. He was muscular, a head taller than me, and held an aura of warm sophistication. I was smitten.

When he visited me, his eyes were watery and sad. His Queen had just passed. She died during childbearing and his newborn daughter had survived but barely. He needed a potion to save his baby’s life and he was willing to pay any amount.

It took me a minute to realize. He was available!

I had only one request in exchange for the potion: his hand in marriage. He agreed without blinking. After our agreement, the procedures and wedding happened in the twinkle of an eye.

It was amazing. I had given up on my dream of marrying royalty and living happily ever after but now I was a queen. Of course, the King knew nothing about my past or my disease and I intended to keep it that way. He overcame his grief by pouring love on his daughter and parading me everywhere he went. I became his beautiful and talented trophy wife. At this point, I was dedicated to maintaining my ageless beauty and I needed the elixir to do so. Its ingredients were peculiar to its purpose so I had to attain them in secret. And so, I charmed a palace guard called Felix to do my bidding.

I mostly ignored the king’s daughter. She was quite pretty. She had jet black hair and her skin was so fair, almost white. She was a nice and naïve girl. Her whitish complexion irritated me and the fact that her name described her appearance annoyed me more. I secretly nicknamed her Pasty to mock her fair skin. I wasn’t interested in her well-being or how she lived her life.

The King, however, wanted me to be close to her. I found it unnecessary. I didn’t marry the king so I could be a mother-figure to the girl! On numerous occasions, he would send his daughter to me. I dreaded those awkward moments and tried to avoid them at all costs.

On one of my off days, as in the days where my body would deteriorate to an old woman’s, my guard was running late. He hadn’t returned with the ingredients for my elixir and I was aging too quickly. I was quite worried and afraid someone would find me, so I remained in my inner chambers throughout the day. The guard finally brought my goods and I quickly mixed the potion. I had to wait six more hours for the potion to be ready.

Now, I looked and felt 60 years older than my real age. My elixir was finally ready. On the first sip, my door opened to reveal my stepdaughter. She gasped as she noticed how old I looked. My hand shook and spilled some of my elixir on my vanity. I quickly downed it, and ordered her out.

I summoned her back after I regained my ageless appearance. “What did you see?!” I barked.

She pointed an accusatory finger at me. “You…you’re an old woman! An old witch who bewitched my father!”

I slapped her. “Wrong answer.” She gasped. “You saw nothing and you will say nothing, Child.”

She clutched her cheek, “You expect me to help you deceive my father, your husband.” She sobbed. “I can’t and I won’t.” She chanted.

I quickly became weary of her and commanded my guard to ‘dispose’ of her. He was shocked at my request but quietly obeyed, nonetheless.

I proceeded to clean up my spilled elixir. I couldn’t afford to allow the palace maids become suspicious as to why I had it lying around. As I wiped away, I noticed my silver mirror had a few drops on it. What caught my attention particularly was the manner the mirror absorbed the elixir. Soon after, nothing was left of it. I was astonished and continued to gaze curiously at the mirror. The mirror began to shake, a bright light shot out of it and then it sighed in relief.

“Free at last!” it exclaimed. I was not afraid, only inquisitive. My mirror could talk!

“Who are you?”

“Oh, thank you for releasing me from my silent prison. I am Miroir, the enchanted one who sees all. I was cursed by my former master and turned into a mare mirror. For liberating me, I surrender my services to you,” it said.

I nodded. This was a most welcome development.

Days passed and my guard failed to return from my bidding. At first, I wasn’t worried. The days turned to weeks and I became paranoid. I was aging again and feared I won’t be able to create another elixir before I was discovered.

“Miroir, show me Felix.” Miroir’s screen rippled for a moment and soon an image of Felix appeared. He was in the forest not too far from the castle. He was dead, and his body had begun to decay! That little minx had charmed him to killing himself! I was furious.

I growled. “Show me that ghastly stepdaughter of mine!”

An image of a moldy forest cottage appeared before me. Pasty stood outside the cottage, washing clothes. How pathetic. I didn’t know how and when I developed such a dark nature because all I could think about was ending her life. I was immensely upset she was still alive, and looked younger, and more beautiful than I could ever be.

As if possessed, I gathered every toxic, poisonous or foul substance in the castle and expertly mixed them together. At this point, I looked like a crocked old woman but I was on a mission to end Pasty. Knowing how naïve she was, I dipped juicy red apples into my concoction. The apples absorbed the poisonous substance without changing its outward appearance. I grabbed Miroir and headed to the forest.

By the time I arrived, Pasty was not alone. Seven dwarfs were having an early dinner with her. They seemed familiar to me. Two of them tinkled my memory the most; one with a big button and the other with round glasses wedged on his nose. I decided the stay the night and wait till they left.

The following morning, I was startled awake by a faint tune I’d heard before, but I couldn’t pinpoint where it came from.

“Heigh-ho! Heigh-ho!”

The singing signified the dwarfs’ departure. I finally had Pasty to myself. I carried my basket of poisoned apples and approached the front door and knocked weakly. Pasty answered almost instantly. I had been afraid she’d recognize me but I had forgotten how naïve she was.

I chuckled. “All alone my dear?”

She nodded. “Why, yes I am but…”

I looked around. “The little men are not here?”

“No, they are not,” she said.

Good. “Would you like to purchase some juicy apples from a struggling poor old lady?” I lifted the basket to her face.

She sighed. “I would but I’m penniless.”

I smiled. “Well, for being honest, I’ll give you one free of charge.”

Her face brightened up, she cheerily thanked me and chose an apple. My eyes widened with expectation as she slowly brought the apple to her rosy lips. The world slowed down dramatically. The feeling of anticipation and eagerness felt so familiar, I couldn’t shake it off. For a second the past few years flashed before my eyes.

I remembered it all. My days with Lady Méchant, my night at the ball, the ghost town, the frog kissing, the dwarfs, the beast, everything! I remembered my ambition and wishes. I remembered who I was. I most definitely wasn’t a twisted witch trying to kill a 14-year-old girl for no tangible reason. The fairy tales I studied and the advice of my horoscope poured into my memory in that frozen second. I suddenly realized what was happening and who I was. This wasn’t the fairy tale I hoped to feature in and this wasn’t the role I wanted to play.

I cried but it was too late. “Snow White, no!”

Shame overwhelmed me. I had previously refused to call her name because of my bitterness, and anger. This was not me. The potions. Oh no.

The agonizingly slow second suddenly flew by and Snow White bit into the apple. She instantly dropped to the ground. Prying the poisoned piece from her mouth was pointless. The apple was so poisoned tasting its skin was as effective as eating it whole. I was already the villain in a fairytale. I had poisoned her and no matter what I said from now on, everyone would see me as Snow White’s stepmother, the ugly, old, wretched wicked witch.

I did the only thing which seemed sensible. I fled.

 

MYOPIA is used by permission of the original author, Ifeoluwa Ogúnyinka

 

Author bio:

Sinmisola Ogúnyinka is a pastor’s wife, mother, writer and movie producer. She has a university degree in Economics, and is a Craftsman of Christian Writers’ Guild. She lives with her family in Pretoria, South Africa.

Blog: www.sinmisolao.wordpress.com

Twitter: @sinmisolaog

 

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/en/woods-autumn-woman-girl-meeting-1524606/

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