Snow White (Enchanted Fairytales)

Snow White

by

Cindy C Bennett

Copyright 2012 Cindy C Bennett

USA All Rights Reserved

Kindle
Edition

Cover Design: Cindy C Bennett

Cover Photo
:
dreamstime_m_19354031 copyright
Heather Rushton
|
Dreamstime.com

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Snow White

S
he
hurried through the pouring rain, hunched over her books as she tried to keep them dry. She'd known it would rain today, had felt it in the air, seen it in the low hanging dark gray clouds. But
she'd been running late and
thought she might miss the storm.

Thunder rumbled through the sky, shaking the ground beneath her feet. She'd never liked storms, could never figure out what others found so romantic about them. She was cold, wet, and miserable. Her feet squished with each step, water ran in her eyes, and she felt as if she might never be dry again. There wasn't anything remotely
exciting
about the rain.

She finally rounded the corner toward her house.
With immense relief she slid through the front door, grateful to be out of the deluge.

"Snow!" her mother chided her as she came down the stairs and saw her dripping in the entry. "You're getting water everywhere."

"I know, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I'll clean it up." Her mother—stepmother if she were being technical—smiled at her.
A
chill finger
ed down Snow’s
spine. She couldn't say her mother had ever treated her poorly, or done anything to make Snow doubt her affection. And yet, every time
her mother
looked at Snow, she felt that same chill. There was something in her
mother’s
face, in her eyes, that just felt . . . off.
About to graduate high school and Snow felt like a little child when it came to her stepmother.

She quickly slipped her sopping shoes and jacket off and wadded both up in a tight ball.
Then she looked
across
the
gleaming and
dry
expanse of tiled floor between herself and the laundry room which sat at the rear of the house. Well, there was no help for it, she had to get her clothes to the dryer. She hurried across the space, ignoring the lifted brow of her mother. Once in the laundry room, she was able to slip out of all of her wet things and place them in the dryer. A towel folded on top of the dryer gave her something to wrap in while she ran to her room. There, she only took time to wrap in a robe before she went back to the entry, rags in hand to clean up her mess. Her mother was a stickler for absolute perfection in the cleanliness of her house, and since Snow was at her mercy, she couldn't really complain.

Katarina was so beautiful looking at her was like trying to look at the sun. It had been years since her father had died, and Katarina had married him three years before that. Yet her stepmother didn’t look a day older than when she’d married Snow’s father.
In fact, she could easily be mistaken for Snow’s sister rather than mother.

Her mother was no longer
where Snow
had passed her. She cleaned
until no traces of her rain incident remained before
daring
to shower herself back to something resembling warmth.
The shower was the kind of rain storm she
could
withstand. Once the hot water had her feeling less like a cadaver and more like a human, she dressed and went back downstairs.

"Snow, come in here, would you?" her mother called from her office. She entered the forbidding room which was done up in heavy mahogany and dark colors. She supposed it was meant to be elegant and sophisticated, but it just felt cold and
daunting
to Snow.

Her mother sat behind the large ostentatious desk, which had her nameplate sitting on the edge.
Kata
rina White
.
Snow never knew exactly why her mother insisted on sitting behind the desk whenever she had something to discuss with her
.
S
he suspected
she did it
for the sake of intimidation. With a sigh she sank into one of the overbearing chairs across from her mother, preparing
for the lecture
on dragging muddy rainwater into the house.

"Snow, darling,
I have a surprise for you." Kata
rina smiled at her expectantly, and it was the closest to genuine pleasure she had ever seen on her mother's face.
Snow waited patiently, knowing better than to interrupt. Her stepmother had a way of stopping you in your tracks with nothing more than a look. Snow couldn’t decide if she hoped to achieve such control—or dreaded that she might.

“I’ve arranged for a friend to take you into the forest to hunt.”

Snow’s mouth dropped and she quickly snapped it closed. “H—hunt?” she asked.

“Well, yes. I know that
hunting was
dear to your father, and that he promised to teach you when you were old enough.”

Her words were true enough. Her father had been an avid hunter, and as a child who adored him, Snow had constantly begged him to take her with. But she’d been a child at the time, without much idea of what hunting entailed. For her it had been nothing more than a chance to spend more time with him, travelling the world. He didn’t hunt locally. As far as she knew, he’d never been in the forest near their home.

“But, I—”

“Do you not like this surprise?” Her mother’s cold voice cut her off. Snow was smart enough to recognize the sharp warning.

“I . . . yes, mother, I do. Thank you.” Her mother nodded once, looking pleased with herself. And then, as if someone else was controlling her actions, Snow spoke again. “Surely you don’t mean the
Neru F
orest?”

Her stepmother’s eyes hardened. “Please don’t tell me you believe the stories. I thought you more intelligent than that, Snow,” she chided, her tone making it clear that if Snow were to say she did, it would only prove her lack of intellect.

She felt herself shaking her head, though inside she was quivering with fear at the thought of stepping within. The Neru Forest had been named centuries ago by a Corsican explorer who claimed that the forest would take anyone who entered and make them its own. There was some truth to the story.

“Good.” Her
step
mother stood, as if their business was concluded. “He shall pick you up on Saturday morning. And, Snow.” She turned her dark eyes on Snow, telling her clearly that she would not be defied in her coming request. “This is our secret. You know how silly the villagers can be about Neru.” Snow nodded. Her hesitation must have shown on her face, because her mother laughed, placing an arm across her shoulders. Snow supposed it was meant to be a gesture of comfort, but instead it felt like a warning. “You know the stories are only told to keep children from wandering in the forest and getting lost. My hunter is well versed with the forest. He will keep you safe.”

Snow nodded, her stomach tightening at the thought of entering the forest with a stranger, no matter how “well versed” he was with it.

*****

“Are you
kidding
?” Snow’s best friend in the world, Chandler—or Channy for short—lay sprawled across Snow’s bed on her stomach, flipping through the
pages of a magazine. Channy was beautiful. She had brown hair that hung to the middle of her back, brown eyes that always sparkled with laughter, and an infectious smile. As always, Snow felt a rush of gratitude when she looked at her friend. Snow was an outcast, to put it lightly. Cha
nny wasn’t just her best friend,
she was her only friend. Channy could easily be
the most popular girl in school
if she wanted. But she didn’t, and in fact went out of her way to make sure that no one put her into the “popular” girl camp.

“The Snow Q
ueen is making you go hunting with some dude you’ve never even met?” She grinned at Snow, as if it was funny, but Snow could read the compassion and concern in Channy’s
brown
eyes. She always called Snow’s stepmother “the
S
now
Q
ueen
.
”
To Channy
it had double meaning. Not only did her stepmother feel she was the queen over
her stepdaughter
Snow, she was as cold as a queen of snow would be.

“Yeah.” Snow flopped down on her bed next to Channy.
“Crazy, huh? And the worst thing is, I don’t have a choice.”

Ch
anny glanced sideways at her. “When are you going to tell her to go jump in a lake?”

Snow shuddered at the thought of saying those words aloud to her stepmother. “She hasn’t ever done anything bad to me,” she said, the words weak to her own ears.

“Oh, really?” Channy’s words were thick with sarcasm. “She constantly tells you
you’re
ugly.” Snow
open
ed
her mouth to argue but Channy held
a hand up to stop her. “You’re the most beautiful
person I’ve ever seen,” she said
, waving a hand toward the magazine open on the bed in front of her. “
You make
all of the girls they put in these magazines lo
ok like plain Jane’s
. But the
Snow Q
ueen is so obsessed with her own beauty she can’t stand the thought of anyone realizing how pretty you are. So she
makes
you
wear
ugly clothes that don’t fit, refuses to let you cut your hair or wear any makeup—not that you need it. And she keeps yo
u here like her prisoner and
personal slave. How is that not treating you badly?”

Sno
w shrugged. She’d heard this
argument from Channy before. Channy was blind where Snow was concerned. Snow had a
mirror;
she could se
e for herself how plain she was
with her long, dark hair that hung in a s
ingle thick length to her waist and
blue eyes that were unremarkable. There wasn’t anything about her that was more than that—plain. All the cool clothes and makeup in the world wouldn’t change that. Of course, that didn’t stop her from longing for just
one
thing to wear that didn’t look like it belonged on an old grandma.

“She doesn’t beat me,”
Snow
argued. “And she stayed here with me after my dad died. She could have sent me to a foster home or something. He left everything to her, so she had no obligation to me, especially since they were married such a short time.”

“Well, give her the mother-of-the-year award then,” Channy drawled. “Of course she kept you. It would make her look bad if she didn’t, and she’s nothing if not all about appearances. What do you think is going to happen when we graduate in two months? Or maybe even next month when you turn eighteen?”

Snow shrugged
again
. Sh
e
worried about that, to be honest.
Her father had been extremely wealthy. Even at a young age, she’d recognized that the money they had was beyond what anyone else in town had, and more than many people in the world. But he’d left everything to his young bride, and nothing to Snow. She couldn’t fault him, really. How could he have known he’d die at such a young age? He’d probably figured he’d be around long enough for Snow to get an education and make her own way in the world.

Snow stood and walked over to her window. Her room faced the Neru Forest. It looked as black as its name indicated. Channy followed, standing next to Snow, an arm around her waist, her gaze also locked on the forbidding trees.

“People go in and they don’t come out,” Snow whispered. She wanted Channy to argue, to tell her it was all a load of crap. But she wouldn’t. Snow knew why. Channy’s sister had gone in on a dare, and never come out. Of the rescue team who had gone in searching for her, only half had come back out, refusing to speak of what had happened within the close knit trees, refusing to
ever set foot back within. T
hey weren’t the only ones.

“She said he knows the forest, right?” Channy asked, voice trembling. Snow nodded. “Maybe you can get a migraine on Saturday.”

Snow glanced at Channy. “That’s a good idea. I’ll be in so much pain she’ll have to refuse to have me go.”