Best of the Brine

White as Snow

Stumbling through brush, knees bleeding and nearly blind from tears spilling down my face, I knew I was nowhere safe. The forest had always been a forbidden and frightening place that I had watched from my window for the first seventeen years of my life. But as I run through it now, I long for my window and nice things.

The sun begins to set, and soon all I can see are the images from the terrible morning burning against the backs of my eyes. A handsome young man, known for his hunting skill took me to the edge of the forest at the request of my stepmother. He was to show me his talents, which I was excited for. The young man had always caught my eye, and I often wondered if the feeling was mutual.

When he rose his bow and arrow, I knew it was not.

Just then, my foot catches a stray root protruding from the ground. I land face down in cold mud, wondering how my life has come to this. What had I done to deserve such a punishment? The question remains unanswered as I try to blink away the tears in my eyes. Shivering and alone, I think back to how I ended up here.

Early in the morning, my stepmother had stopped by my room and brushed my hair.

"Like fine black silk, my dear." She had cooed.

My stepmother usually didn't pay much attention to me, so her affection was a nice surprise.

Her cool hand ran down the side of my face, barely brushing the edges of my lips. "Beautiful red lips, as if dipped in blood."

I blushed at her compliments, not used to them coming from her.

"And of course your skin," her hands paused at the base of my neck, "as white and perfect as freshly fallen snow."

Our eyes met in the mirror. I had never heard her speak in such a way about me. "Thank you."

Her gaze turned towards a faraway place, her eyes took on a quality of memories revisited. "I never thought you would be so beautiful, but the mirror doesn't lie."

She left then, her black dress sweeping through the doorway.

I am pushed back to the present and my miserable situation. For the first time, I notice a light through the thick treeline, just stealing through branches and trunks as big as me. It is a flicker, but it burns inside of me like a blazing fire.



I crawl towards it until my fingernails are broken and bleeding. It reminds me of the dying deer, and the way the arrow pierced its heart. So much blood spilt over something I don't understand.

It is a small cottage, with doors that only reach my hips if I were able to stand. But the cold and fear have drained me of anything resembling life. I am fighting to live.

Shadows inside move towards the door, the silhouettes of children appear in the doorway. I count seven as they approach me. In small voices they whisper to me as they pick me up and bring me inside.

"So fair," one says.

Another wipes away a tear from my cheek. "Cold as snow, white like snow."

They lay me down and I fall asleep on the floor, because their beds are so very small.

Over the next few days I learn their names, and personalities. Each morning, they leave me to the house while they work in the caves. I do not know what they do there, or why, and I do not ask. Each one has been kind to me, and I try not to stare at their small statures. It is the oddest thing I have ever seen, but I feel safe in the forest with them all around me.

On the third day, they each give me a kiss on the cheek as they leave and remind me not to answer the door until they return.

But just before lunch, something peculiar happens. An elderly woman approaches the house and I know she must be lost, because it is the hardest place to find in all the world. I take pity on her and wave her over to me.

She smiles and I feel as if I have met her before. "Can I help you?" I ask.

"If you have any water, I would very much appreciate some, my dear."

I nod and bring her inside where we sit at the table and sip on water. She thanks me and pulls a bright red apple from her bag.

"I'd like to share this with you as a sign of my gratitude," she holds the fruit up to the light.

My stomach rumbles at the sight of it. I think about the warning I received earlier in the day, but don't see how this old woman could pose any threat.

Noticing my hesitation, she takes a bite out of the apple. Juice slides down her chin and the resounding crunch from her mouth sends me over the edge. I hold my hand to take the apple.

"You are so kind to share this with me," I say before taking a bite.

A crooked smile appears on her mouth. "So beautiful you are. So trusting."

The chunk of apple makes its way down my throat.

"Hair like black silk, and skin so fair it rivals my own in beauty."

My heart begins to beat like the wings of a butterfly. I should have listened to the warning.

Just then, a hiss from the doorway breaks my attention.

"Witch."

Seven small figures descend on us, all wielding diamonds the size of my fist and sharp as daggers. They stab the old woman until she no longer looks as such. Her hair turns from gray to gold and her skin from weathered to porcelain. I suddenly recognize her beautiful face, and the ugly person it hides.

But I am too tired for words, and fall asleep before I can reveal who she is to the little men.

I sleep for what seems like eternity. It is endless and dark. I am dead.

But then something happens. It is magic and warmth and home. A pair of eyes stare down at me. The one who saved me, has once again come to my rescue. He has hunted me down, just as he promised he would when he turned the bow and arrow from my heart to the deer's instead.

"Run," he whispered.

"Why?" I asked.

"So that you live. So that I can find you." His eyes told a story of a boy who knew too much and didn't care if he was never called the hero of the story.

I had so often wondered if my interest in him was mutual. When he raised the bow and arrow, I knew it was not. Interest was not the right word. He loved me. And that was the moment I realized I loved him too.

Now, as he lifts me from the floor I smile at him. But he does not return the smile, and his eyes seem broken and sad.

He turns from me and looks to someone at the door. "Prince," he says. "She is alive."