The End
Mara Shepherd “I don’t need a kiss to fall in love with you,” I whisper, my wicked warm breath damp against the perfect marble spiral of your ear. “Like the Prince does.” My gnarled hands smooth your golden locks across the satin pillow. I readjust the heavy tiara placed precariously atop your slumbering head. I rub my eyes to try and get a better look at your enchanted youth. As you wait patiently for your next True Love, I’m wasting away. It isn’t fair. Why did I have to be the one who could wield magic? When I brought you back to the tower things were going to happen as they always do, I swear. I planned on leaving through that
heavy wooden door and locking it with a rusty key that I'd turn into a dove and hide in a magician’s pocket. You would become a legend. You would be discovered by a handsome prince, who would conveniently meet his death before he realizes that you never grow older… and I would once again find myself lingering over you, studying those rosy lips that I’m cursed never to touch. But after this last enchantment I feel my crooked body sinking to the worn floor beside your bed. I have no more youth left to give. I will never again leave this tower. This time, you will never wake up.
71 | Spring 2022
