Sweet forbidden love
Now, he was painting another, grander picture for me, promising a magnificent wedding.
Oh, did he really want to marry me?
But when she appeared, he stopped coming to me.
Recalling the photos and her medical record, I could not help but believe it.
I was no longer his princess. I was a witch who had offered a poisoned apple to the true princess, sending her into a deep sleep.
And then came the happy ending: the true princess had returned, and a wicked witch could never compare to her.
My face crumpled like a discarded, ruined cloth, and I wept. I cried as loudly and as hard as I possibly could.
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