I Hate When They Call Me Snow White

The morning sun pierced through the canopy of trees above me. I slowly turned over and stared at the sky above. Although the sun was shining, it was cold and gray. Perfect. Just like I felt.

I suddenly noticed the hush of my surroundings. I looked around quickly to find I was alone at the camp. I didn't know where the Huntsman was, but I didn’t take another moment to really care.

I immediately jumped up and ran. I was still groggy and my steps fell heavy on the dead leaves, making a horrible crunching sound with every step. I wasn't entirely sure what direction I was going, but I just wanted to get away.

I didn't get far before an arm reached and dragged me to a stop.

I was held with my back to someone's chest and a knife at my throat. I felt the bile rise up in my throat as a flash of déjà vu overcame me. I knew it at once to be the Huntsman, but I my brain kept producing the imagine of a blond reptile who was bent on…

I couldn’t finish the thought, but I began to struggle violently in his arms. Lashing out in anyway I could. I heard a terrified gasping sound. I didn't realize it was me until a few tears spilled from my eyes. I didn't care. I suddenly was ridiculously afraid of the Huntsman’s strength. I was alone in the woods with him. He could do whatever he wanted with me and no one would be there to help me this time. I finally hit the Huntsman hard before he tightened his hold on me to the point where the breath left my body.

"Stop," came his deep voice.

I stilled slightly at his voice.

"Just kill me," I said, trying to keep the quiver from my voice.

He remained silent, but removed the knife from my neck.

His arm remained around me. It was nestled at my waist with his hand on my side. His hold didn't feel menacing, but I was still wary. As though he suddenly realized my fear, his arm slowly let go of me and he turned me around to face him.

I looked over his shoulder because I couldn't bear to see the pity and disgust that was probably in his eyes.

I was embarrassed because I was so scared. I took a few calming breaths through my nose and wiped the remaining tears from my face before I finally turned to look at him.

I had hit him in the chin it seemed, because it was red. I slowly moved eyes up to meet his gaze.

I was surprised to find anger there.

"What happened?" He said, his voice was dangerous.

I knew what he was asking. I knew he was wondering why I reacted in such a way that exposed a mind-numbing fear that had taken root inside of me without my knowledge. I also knew that I didn't want to confide in this stranger.

"Why won't you kill me already?” I asked instead.

He frowned slightly.

“Why are you so eager to die?”

I wasn’t eager to die. In fact, all I wanted to do was go back to my friends and live out my days among my new family.

“ I would rather die, than be forced to suffer the cruelty of the Queen,” I paused slightly, “again.”

His face took on a strange look. His eyes began to rove my face seriously. I was just reaching my threshold of annoyance when he finally spoke again.

“Who’s to say I will give you to the Queen?”

“Isn’t that your intended purpose?” I cried out, “To bring cut out my heart and bring me to her. Why are you stringing it out? Are you playing some sick game?”

Both of us looked slightly taken aback by my outburst, but I said nothing else.

“I haven’t decided,” he said again.

The same words he spoke last night, he echoed again.

“What does that mean?” I said, “What are you waiting for?”

His eyes grew pensive and pursed his lips.

“Clarity,” he said.

“Clarity for what?” I demanded.

“If you are worthy,” he said slowly, as if I was unable to understand.

“Worthy of what?” I said, my voice was taking on a shrill edge with my exasperation.

He had been turning away as I spoke, but he looked over his shoulder and his gaze pierced every layer of internal armor I had ever built for myself.

“The crown.”

I felt the shock on my face as I followed after him.

“I don’t want the crown,” I said angrily.

He turned back around and crossed his arms.

“That’s selfish,” he said.

I almost blew a fuse. This was coming from a man who had kidnapped for a reward I’m sure.

“I’m selfish?” I said, “You are planning to kill me unless I somehow prove myself to you.”

He shrugged his shoulders, as if he didn’t see my point or he didn’t care.

“You’re an ass,” I said angrily, as I stalked past him.

I heard a strange muffling sound behind me. I whipped around wondering if he was possible choking before I realized...he, the Huntsman, was laughing.

I stared at him, slightly irritated, but mostly fascinated. I didn’t understand this man at all.