Midnight. Alone in my cold bed. Near outside, so cold. In my dirty white dress with symbols all over them. No corsets, stockings, or shoes. Not like the Queen. Not like her. Evil Queen. Evil of the most wretched and heartless. No one here. No one to talk to. My pale, snow colored skin so pale in the moonlight's reflection from the sun above. No one likes that kind of talk. Science. They think it's evil. They almost put me to death because I spoke of Aristotal's theories and ideas. I spoke of Leonardo Da Vinci's beautiful artwork and inventions. I was usually tortured or harmed physically for speaking of any of that, or speaking of something a woman, especially one that is a "slave" for an evil twisted Medusa like the Queen. If only I were more powerful. Like a chesire cat or smoking blue caterpillar. If only. If only. Oh, why must my life become of this? I do not remember my past, or anything else. All I remember is coming here to this dreadful castle, being the Queen's property. I have not rights as a human. I might as well be a dog with a tight chain around my neck, being tortured day and night by a lazy, fat, evil, big headed woman. One day I shall swear revenge and behead her. I shall become royalty and save this kingdom from her evil wretched clutches.