Page 22 of How To Survive This Fairytale

I held her as a baby.

I saw her fresh in this world.

I cannot be what takes her out of it.

If you ever want to see your swan again, you must kill Snow White.Don’t you want your happy ending?

My happy ending?

But you said?—

Listen.If you don’t kill Snow White, there is no point continuing this story.If you don’t kill her, you never see him again.You’ll never find out that he loves you, that he’s thought of you endlessly and missed you so much he wished for you.If you don’t kill Snow White, you’ll never have your happy ending together.

You’re lying, aren’t you?

You just want a tool to tell a story.

You’ve baited me over and over just so that I’ll?—

Kill Snow White

Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.

Are you listening?

Kill SnowWhite.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill SnowWhite.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill SnowWhite.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.Kill Snow White.

Stone in heart, chain in soul, you take your hunting knife in hand, and plunge it through your own heart.

0.

Sometimes, to survive the story you are in, you must change the story.This is not a simple thing to do.Stories are older than all of us; “story” is another word for “God.”To be caught in a story is to be caught in a wheel that has been propelling itself on thousands of years worth of momentum.Here is the beginning, here is the middle, here is the end, and here is the part you must play in this endlessly spinning wheel.Sometimes you are stuck in a story that isn’t even your own.Sometimes, if you don’t change the story you’re living in, it will kill you.

* * *

We’ve been telling this story for a long, long time.It is ancient and undying, but it is also malleable.Heat it in a forge, and you can shape it into a dagger—or, you can shape it into a horseshoe.It’s still the same metal, but we make it mean something different.Listen: there are a hundred versions of this story.Let’s tell one that means something different.

* * *

So be it then.If you will not have someone else tell your story, figure it out on your own.

One

Stone in heart,chain in soul, you take your hunting knife in hand, and?—

—drop it.

“Huntsman?”Snow White’s voice wobbles as she turns, and looks up at you, roses for cheeks, silk for skin.“Huntsman, what are you doing?”

You drop to your knees.You bow your head.

“Forgive me, princess,” you say.“Your mother ordered me to kill you and bring her your heart to eat.I refuse.”

“She’ll kill you for refusing,” she says.

“Let her,” you say.“I will buy you time.Listen to me, princess: you must run.Run into the woods.Run as fast and as far as you can.Be swift, and be clever, and be fair— the woods are full of dangers, but they are also full of magic.I think that magic will keep you safe.I think that magic knows… This story belongs to you.It always has.”

“You won’t come with me?”