Monday, February 16th, 1998

     It took me until today to confront Mr. Gold. I couldn’t just ask him to have the baby. He’d refuse. I had to be careful. All he had to do was say one word and it would be done. I needed to be clever if I wanted to be a mother. I was intruding in someone else’s part of the curse. Everyone here wants something that they’ll never get. The curse I cast has created a very specific picture, and I walked into Mr. Gold’s shop with the goal to alter it.

     The bells on the door jingled as it closed behind me. The light shined through the windows and cast shadowy shapes across his counter. A mug of coffee sat on top of a fresh and open copy of the Boston Globe. Behind the counter, a curtain hung in a doorway. Behind that, I assumed was a stockroom that must have been empty, because the shop was full of strange items from floor to ceiling. I stood beside some shriveled marionettes that sat on their perch and stared on at the curtain. I looked away and followed their gaze. The sound of tapping on the floor grew closer and closer. The curtain wafted forward before Mr. Gold’s hand grabbed it and pulled it out of the way. He stepped forward.

     “Good morning, Madam Mayor.” He smiled and stepped up to the counter. “What brings you into my shop today?”

     “Good morning, Gold. I’m here today with an offer.”

     “Well, I’m all ears.”

     “What if I told you I was interested in adopting a child?”

     “I would congratulate you.” He grabbed his coffee mug off the counter. “That’s quite a noble thing to do. I believe you would be a good mother, despite a previous attempt.”

     “You know about that?”

     “Word does get around.” He took a sip of his coffee before carrying the mug and setting it on a table or something right behind the curtain. “Even still, I believe few people in Storybrooke would be a better candidate than you.”

     “Thank you.” I got to the point. “I would like to adopt Ashley’s baby.”

     The smile Gold had since greeting me left his face.

     “And what do you want to offer me?”

     “How about the right to increase your rent fees to all of your properties in Storybrooke?”

     “I already have that right, thanks.” Mr. Gold came around from behind the counter, his cane tapping loudly on the wooden floor. “The child is worth more than that.”

     “I will help you adopt any other child in Storybrooke.” I started to walk up to him, but he walked right past me. He reached up with one hand and began to untangle a mobile of glass unicorns that looked vaguely familiar. I went to help.

     “There are no other children to adopt in Storybrooke.” He waved my hands away from his as politely as he could and went back to the mobile. “None who are safe to adopt, anyway.”

     “Then what would you like? You can have anything you want.” How do you convince him to break a deal? You offer him a better one.

     “That is the most dangerous question to ask, as well as the most dangerous thing to offer.” He had three of the five strands untangled already, but one twist of the fourth strand reattached it to one of the three untangled strands. “To answer your first, there is nothing more valuable than the life of a child. To the second, I want Ashley’s baby, and I have it already.” He gave up on the mobile with a sigh and sat down, but now the mobile was bothering me. I reached up and worked on it.

     “Did you know I was close friends with Ashley’s stepmother?” I got the whole thing untangled faster than I thought. “I even paid for her grave and funeral.”

     “I did know that.” He nodded in thanks for my effort. “But it seems you weren’t close enough for her to tell you about Miss Boyd’s pregnancy.”

     That didn’t sting as much as he meant it to, but I decided to switch tactics anyway.

     “I’ve heard that Ashley was coerced into signing her contract with you.” I leaned against his display counter and placed my hands behind me on the cold glass. “If I wanted to, I could visit Mr. Spencer’s firm and build a case against you.”

     “You can if you like, but I can just as easily get all of those involved together and prove your case invalid.”

     “I spoke with Ashley two days ago and she wants to give her baby to me.”

     “What Miss Boyd wants now is irrelevant. All that matters is the contract she signed then.” Mr. Gold rose from his chair and made his way back behind the counter. “You are the most powerful woman in Storybrooke.” He reached beneath the counter and pulled out a spray bottle with blue liquid and a rag. “You can have any child you want. Except this one.”

     “But this one is perfect!”

     “I’m sure he will be, but this one is mine.” He came over to the display case I was leaning against and motioned with his cane for me to move. I stepped aside for him to spray and wipe away the smudges my hands had left.

     “I can give her things so she can get on with her life. Can you promise that?” I think I was more offended by his wiping clean where my backside had leaned against the case than anything he’d said.

     “I don’t promise anything unless I’m certain I can deliver. Can you?”

     “Do you even care about her well-being?”

     “Truthfully, no,” he turned to me before walking the cleaning supplies back to where they belonged. “But she is healthy and has everything she needs. What she does with her life after the child’s born is not my concern.”

     “Do you think you’ll be able to take care of the infant yourself?”

     “Not alone, no. Not that it’s any of your business, but I may have to hire some help. I know of at least one woman who might be able.” He came around from the counter one more time and made his way slowly to the door.

     My mouth actually fell open. “You don’t mean Ashley?” It was so cruel, I wish I’d thought of it.

     “I plan on offering her the job. Of course, per our contract, she won’t be allowed to ever reveal to the child she’s his mother. The consequences if she does are dire.” He held the door open for me. “Now if you don’t mind, I have a business to run. You know where I stand on this, so I’ll wish you good day.”

     But I wasn’t finished. “Mr. Gold, please, this is my last chance!”

     “Madam Mayor, please stop going on about this! I’m not breaking my contract with Ashley.”

     My mouth closed. I opened it again and tried to say the name “Ashley”, but my voice wouldn’t come forth. I was able to say “Mr. Gold—“ but I tried to press the subject of Ashley’s baby and nothing would come out. I started again.

     “We have known each other for a very long time.” I could get that out, but anything about Ashley or adopting her baby cut off in my throat. I was so angry I could cry. I didn’t want to cry in front of Mr. Gold. I could feel the tears coming, but they never came because they were over Ashley’s baby. I wanted to scream. I tried to scream! But I couldn’t even do that! I was done, whether I wanted to be or not.

     “I’ll leave you alone now.” Before I could walk out the door, Mr. Gold held up a hand.

     “Mayor Mills,” he sighed and lowered his head. “I am not unsympathetic to your plight. There’s nothing in this world I’ve wanted more than to be a parent, and I’d recognized that in you long before you came to me today. I may be able to help you.” He closed the door, preventing more cold air from coming in and walked back to his counter.

     “How?” I followed him. “There are no other available children to adopt in Storybrooke.”

     “True, but there are many adoptable children outside of Storybrooke.” He held up his issue of the Boston Globe as though it was a piece of magic.

     “What’s your price?” I took a step back, as I’d already offered him anything.

     “Let’s not worry about my price just now, dearie.” He sat the newspaper down. “This may take some time. When I’m able to find you a child, then we’ll discuss the cost.”

Saturday, February 14th, 1998

     It’s been fifteen years since I enacted the curse. Coincidentally, everyone else thinks it’s the 200^th anniversary of the founding of the town. Today was also Valentine’s Day, so the town has decided to do a month-long celebration dubbed, “We Love Storybrooke”. I’m not joking.

     Two good things have happened today. The first occurred this morning when I was flipping through the book of riddles. Inside was a spell for giving someone who isn’t a resident of Storybrooke a cursed persona. This is perfect in case the Savior actually does show up. All I have to do is cast a spell as soon as she arrives and problem solved.

     Kathryn begged me to go out with her tonight. We went to the Rabbit Hole to enjoy karaoke night. Actually, we weren’t enjoying it as much as enduring it. She sat and stared at the stage, wringing her hands as she waited for her turn. Ahead of her, Dr. Whale was giving everything he had to a rock ballad that asked why no one loved him. Thank goodness he makes his living saving lives. At least I knew better than to volunteer.

     The doctor left the stage as soon as the music ended and Kathryn went up. She started out slower than her upbeat song, but once she sped up she was actually pleasant to hear. I looked around and saw a few people enjoying the song. Then I saw someone I hadn’t seen in a while. I forgot that Ashley worked here, among her other jobs. She was removing her apron and it looked like her shift may have been over for the night, but that wasn’t what caught my attention.

     She was pregnant! Granted, it’s been a while since I’ve seen Ashley. We don’t exactly run in the same circles, but in the days when I used to go to Vivian’s house, I didn’t remember Ashley’s stomach sticking out so much. I vaguely remember some things Vivian would say that suggested she knew about her stepdaughter’s condition. I also remember something she told me as we studied the curse: you keep what you brought over. For Vivian, it was her cancer, but for Ashley it obviously was her child. I think I remember hearing that she was expecting back home. Her pregnancy will not be stopped by the curse as it is for the rest of the women here. Ashley’s going to have her baby and I want it.

     Her baby would be the perfect baby to have. I won’t have to worry about the child turning on me, since the child will be born without a cursed persona. And judging by her size, it might not be long before she gives birth.

     When Kathryn finished her song, I made some excuse about having to attend an early meeting and followed Ashley out the door. She made a stop at Mr. Clark’s. There, in the dental aisle, I pretended to be shopping too.

     “Hello, Ashley!” What a coincidence to see her there. “How have you been? You look well.”

     Ashley jumped. I don’t think she’s used to people acknowledging her presence.

     “Thank you, Mayor Mills. It’s nice to see you.”

     “How far along are you?”

     “About seven months, according to the doctor, but I think he’ll come later.”

     “It’s a boy?” I followed her to the register with a brand of toothpaste I didn’t use. “Congratulations.”

     “No need to congratulate me.” Ashley pulled out her change and paid for her goods. “I’m giving him up for adoption.”

     “Have you thought about doing a private adoption and choosing the parent, yourself?”

     “He’s already been chosen.” She waited for me as Mr. Clark counted back my change. “It’s Mr. Gold.”

     I managed to successfully put the change in my purse without flinching. His was the one name I didn’t want her to say. But I knew I still had a chance. I offered to walk her home, assuring her it was our job as women to look out for each other.

     “How many jobs are you working, Ashley?” I pulled my coat closer around my neck. Frost came from our mouths as we exhaled.

     “Three.” Her steps were heavy, as though she’d worked all of them today.

     “Is Mr. Gold your boss for all of them?” I offered a hand to hold her bag for her.

     “Yes.” She nodded her thanks and handed me the bag.

     “How is he treating you?”

     “Well, he’s paying for the doctor visits and all of that.”

     “What happens when the baby’s born?”

     “I get a fresh start…”

     “Will you still be working for Mr. Gold?”

     “I guess so.”

     “That’ll be hard, won’t it? To work for the man you’re giving up your child to? To see your child every day, growing up before your eyes, and him never knowing who you are?” We stopped at the gate to her stepsister’s house and I handed her back her bag. “I assume Mr. Gold made you sign something promising to never reveal your identity to your son?”

     Ashley nodded her head and the tears dripped down. I almost had her.

     “What if you gave your baby to me?” I leaned in. “I can do things for you that Mr. Gold can’t do.”

     “Like what?”

     “How would you like to go to college? How about starting a new life in a big city like Boston or New York? I can help you and you’ll be able to get on with your life with the knowledge that your baby is being raised by a family friend.”

     Ashley looked around to make sure no one was listening before leaning in. “I would rather you raise my baby than Mr. Gold,” she whispered. “My mom really liked you. But I’m afraid to break my agreement with him.  Even if you helped me leave, I don’t know what he’d do to my family.”

     I don’t know why she would look out for them, but I pretended to care.

     “Let me talk to him and see what I can do.”

     This energized Ashley. She actually thanked me before going in her house, not knowing that if I win, she’ll be her miserable, cursed self for the rest of her life. Her baby is as good as mine. All I have to do is convince Mr. Gold to null his contract with her, and I have no idea how I’m supposed to do that.

Thursday, November 21st, 1991

     It’s been three months since Hurricane Bob did his damage here. No lives were lost, but a few of the homes that were supposed to have been very old or built on the cheap were flattened. Some shops had damage to their windows and roofs. Most everyone’s homes had minor damage, with trees landing on them or basements flooding. The worst damage was done by the docks. Boats were overturned and boardwalks were torn up. Believe it or not, I rallied the people to rebuild. Many people donated their time and the businesses donated their resources to make sure everyone had shelter. Granny’s boarding house was full for several weeks, as it was lucky to escape the storm’s wrath. Mr. Gold was kind enough to not charge his tenants rent until it was safe to go back into his damaged rental properties.

     It was important to take care of those affected before winter came and prevented further work from being completed, but I’m so impressed with how much work has been accomplished in just three short months. I’ve attended ceremonies for businesses reopening and for families allowed to return to their homes, and I must admit it’s touching to see how proud everyone is of surviving this storm. The largest ceremony took place yesterday, when our docks reopened. The whole town turned out for the celebration of the fishermen being allowed to fish again. And it was there, for the first time in three months that I finally saw them.

     I knew they’d survived because I didn’t actually see Nick and Ava die. I’d just finished my speech and was shaking hands with our chamber of commerce, when I looked to my left and saw the children stuffing their mouths with free food. They didn’t see me, and everyone else ignored them as they stuffed their pockets and ran away.

     I left them alone. As long as I stay away from them, there’s nothing I need to worry about. I remained silent about what happened during the storm and I didn’t press charges either. If they were apprehended, there might be a trial. If there was a trial, there would be a chance the children might say something about their true experience. If that happened, who knows what would result? I told Sister Astrid to keep quiet about it as well. She wanted to conduct a search party the day after the storm, but I assured her it was being taken care of. I decided early on that it would be easier to make them suffer as homeless orphans.

     To that end, I shut down the nuns’ orphanage. I couldn’t stop Sister Astrid from telling Mother Superior what had happened once I’d returned her to the convent. She was very apologetic to me after hearing Sister Astrid’s account, and offered to let me adopt the next child available, should there ever be one. I declined. It is very obvious that the children of Storybrooke are not mine to raise. With my options extinguished, I guess my mission to be a mother is over.

Wednesday, August 21st, 1991 - Part 2

     I ran into the forest partly because that’s what I meant to do and partly because the force of the wind on my back gave me no other choice but running. The trees swayed above me and their branches crashed into each other. It was so noisy I knew I couldn’t track by sound. The rain didn’t fall as easily through the trees as it did in my yard, so I was able to track footprints. Sister Astrid did not possess my tracking skills. Her footprints from her sensible shoes trailed off from the two sets of sneaker prints a ways in, due to the children’s head start. That was good; hopefully she’d be somewhere else and I could kill the children and still make it look like an accident. I followed the sneaker prints further into the forest.

     It’s been years since I’ve killed someone with my bare hands, but it’s kind of like riding a horse: you never really forget. That reminded me that I haven’t ridden a horse since before I cast the curse. We have stables in this town, so what am I waiting for? I began to think of organizing an event for the town involving riding horses. A memorial for Nick and Ava, killed by the horrible storm, would have been perfect.

     My thoughts on fundraisers halted when I saw him. Nick was alone in the clearing before me, his back to me. The rain was pouring down on him and the clearing was nothing but mud. I stopped by the trunk of a large tree that would not bow to the storm. I knew this was a trick. One person is the lure to draw in the bait and then the other attacks. I could see that Nick’s hands were empty, which meant that Ava was somewhere nearby with the sword. Tactics flew through my mind. If I ran to Nick, would I get to his heart in time? What if I stayed where I was and waited for one of them to crack? Or what if Ava already saw me? I looked down at the ground again and saw scuff marks in the dirt. Someone had tried to clear her tracks, but she missed one footprint facing the other direction. I looked back up and saw Nick facing me, but he was looking past me. I ducked just in time for the blade of my broadsword to clang against the tree. The force from that mistake threw Ava to the ground beside me, my sword falling out of her hand. I grabbed it and stood, its tip pointed at her throat. I motioned for her to stand and walk into the clearing to meet her brother. If one or both of them had to die by impalement, that was fine by me.

      You know what? A hurricane’s really hard to stand up in. The storm was much stronger in the clearing and a blast from the wind made me slip and fall flat on my face. I held onto my sword and managed to get on my hands and knees. Both of the children had fallen too. I could reach Nick without shedding his blood. My hand was on his chest in a second, but the next second he was far away from me. The wind picked me up and I was flying. I think I was caught in a small tornado. It had somehow missed the children and I could see them running for cover. The funnel steered me towards a large tree. Rather than brace for impact, I aimed for it. I hit it hard, but I held onto that tree and the tornado lost its grip on me. I was able to look into it before it left and saw it glowing green. Thank goodness it didn’t take me somewhere else; my curse on everyone would have broken.

     The wind calmed a bit once the tornado left and I managed to climb down. Nick and Ava were gone again and I decided to leave them be. If I could just get home I’d be safe. I held onto my sword and ran.

     “Regina!”

     I stopped in front of Sister Astrid on the ground beneath a fallen tree. I ran up to see how bad it was.

     “They were here!” Most of her body was fine, but there was a large branch pinning her right leg. “They said I was in league with you and chased me! Then the tree fell!” If I left her, she might die after a few days, but we were close enough to town that someone could find her if she shouted loud enough. Then she’d tell everyone I left her to die. I don’t know why I just didn’t kill her on the spot to make things easier. Slamming into that tree probably did something to my head and I should get looked at as soon as possible, but I took my sword and hacked the branch free. I reached for her hand but she screamed again.

     The children were standing about ten feet away from us. I widened my stance and held my sword as they charged for us. Another gust of wind came through. This time I only wavered, but the gust was enough to knock Nick and Ava over as well as two trees in front of them. It was hard to say whether or not the trees actually landed on them, but the children did not pop up over the fallen trunks.

     “We need to see if they’re alive!” Sister Astrid grabbed my hand before crying in pain.

     No we didn’t. I’d had enough of this and now was our chance. “We need to get you safe!” Sister Astrid reluctantly agreed. She couldn’t put any weight on her ankle, so she leaned into me and we stood up. She looked at the fallen trees and cried her apology at the children who I hoped wouldn’t rise and come after us. We hobbled together through the mud and made it out of the forest. My wooden furniture was strewn around my house and down the street. We made it inside and I barricaded the door before slowly taking her into the center of the house and making her a bed to lie on. I gave her a knife and told her that if the children were alive and did come in, they might try to kill both of us. And I’ve been sitting here, writing ever since she fell asleep.

     The sun is rising and the children have not come after us. The storm has calmed and appears to have done what I intended to do. I think we’re safe.

Wednesday, August 21st, 1991

     I’m sitting here, in the dark in my dining room, writing by the light of my flashlight as the wind whips the earth around us. Sister Astrid is at the other end of the room, sleeping on the floor. Her leg is elevated over some seat cushions and has ice on it. I have no idea where the children are and we’re both fine with that; perhaps me more than her. I’ve got a sword that I brought over for emergencies and Sister Astrid has a knife from my kitchen, just in case. It’s been seven hours now and the sun’s coming up, so I think we’re safe. But I don’t know.

     My plan yesterday morning was simple: rip out their hearts while they were sleeping, drive them to school and then wait until just almost the end of the day. At just the right moment, I would crush Ava’s heart. Then I would make Nick run to his sister and crush his heart. Sure, this would cause some spectacle, but they wouldn’t be able to tie it to me.

     There were two problems with this plan. The first was, after almost three months with me, the children no longer slept. Because of this, I hardly slept. I’d walk to their locked bedroom doors and hear Nick singing a simple song. The melody was from a song from our religion back home, but the lyrics were about the god of Sister Astrid’s religion. Then I’d creep over to Ava’s room and she would be singing the same song. This has been going on for the last six nights.

     The more pressing problem with my plan was there was no school today. Hurricane Bob was set to reach us this morning, and the schools remained closed today so the students could be with their families. I told the children to stay in the center of the house in case the storm came early while I went to work to make sure the town was ready. There was no way I was staying alone with them for as long as was necessary for the storm to pass.

     I came back to my office to find a message on my answering machine. Sister Astrid’s voice came through.

     “Hi, Madam Mayor. I don’t mean to bug you, but I stopped by to check on the children. The weather’s not too bad yet, don’t worry. I found Nick and Ava in the backyard putting all of your wooden furniture in a pile. I started to think about what you said, you know, about how you’re not getting along? Well, I asked them what they were doing, and they said they were going to burn you—“ BEEP!

     My answering machine cut her off. Sister Astrid’s voice came back on the next message.

     “Hi, again. Should I start over? Did you get my last message? I’ll hope that you did and keep going. So I think you’re right. Nick and Ava never accused anyone of being a witch before. Obviously we need to end the trial period and get them back to the orphanage. They didn’t seem dangerous towards me, but I don’t think it’s safe for them to be around you. I didn’t ask Mother Superior, but—“ BEEP!

     Third message.

     “Oh dear, um, I’ll be quick. I’m coming back over to do an exorcism. I hope you’ll be there, but maybe you shouldn’t be? Okay, bye!”

     I ran home. I didn’t know what an exorcism was, but if Sister Astrid had to go under Mother Superior’s nose to do one then it was not what was needed. By the time I arrived, the wind had really picked up. I could see the mountain of wooden furniture in my backyard peaking over the fence. I crept inside, opened my coat closet door, opened a secret panel beside the coats and pulled out a broadsword. I searched each room, but I was alone in the house. The yard proved empty too. I turned around and everything went dark. There was some kind of bag over my head. I kicked and swung my sword, but that was quickly taken from me. At that moment, I wished I’d grabbed something less-lethal to protect myself and knew I was going to die. The children were yelling at me and dragging me along the ground.

     “STOP!!!” Sister Astrid was screaming. She must have been pulling them off of me, because we all started moving in the other direction.

     “Sister Astrid, help us!”

     “I’m trying!” She was going to get herself killed. Something little dropped on the bag over my face. Then more. The tiny thuds sounded like water droplets. Was she actually throwing holy water on us? Then I remembered the hurricane and instantly we were in a downpour.

     A gust of wind knocked us over and I was on the ground fast. There was a scramble before I was released. Everything became bright when the bag was pulled off my face. Sister Astrid was holding it and we were alone in my yard. The children and my sword were gone.

     “They ran away!” Sister Astrid helped me up and yelled over the wind that threatened to blow us over again.

     “Good!” I grabbed her hand and pulled, but she pulled back. “Let’s get inside where it’s safe!”

     “We have to go after them! They could get hurt or worse!”

     “I’m all right with that!”

     “No!” She broke free of my grasp and ran out the gate. “We can save them!”

     I don’t know why I ran after her. If I was Mary Margaret or even Kathryn, I might say it was because she just saved my life and I owed her that much. But that’s not me. You know what else isn’t me, though? Giving people second chances once they’ve wronged me. That’s exactly what I did for Nick and Ava, and look how great that turned out? The only thing to do at this point was finish them off, and I wasn’t about to rely on a giant storm to do that for me. I didn’t flinch as the rain pelted me in the face. The gate banged behind me and I followed Sister Astrid into the forest to rip out a couple of hearts.

Thursday, August 15th, 1991

     This was a bad idea.

     These last ten weeks have been getting progressively worse. Everything started out fine. Nick and Ava were quiet around me, which was understandable. I wasn’t immediately warm to them either, but I was cordial. I take them to school every day. After school, I make them dinner or take them to Granny’s. Kathryn and I take them around town, they have friends come over and even Graham and Sidney have taken a liking to them. They light up on Wednesday evenings, when Sister Astrid comes to check in on us. The nun let me know on one of her first visits that their mother neglected them. Sister Astrid helped them overcome their grief and I gathered she was the closest thing to a friend for a while.

     But when it’s just the three of us, the children act differently. They become very quiet and if I talk to them, they appear suspicious of me. I took them to Dr. Hopper, who found nothing wrong with them and suggested that it could just be difficult for them to adjust to their new lives with me.

     But things did not improve with time. I flipped through my book of riddles one day, and sure enough, I found one that suggested that children are more vulnerable to coming out of the curse before the savior arrives. All they have to do is be alone in my presence and their true selves will shine through. It can take a while, according to the book, but the curse should break for them in just under three months.

     One day after school, Miss Blanchard called me into a conference. The children and I were just over a month into our trial period.

     “Here are some drawings Nick and Ava drew while in class.” Miss Blanchard showed me paintings of the ocean and flowers. “And here are some drawings they drew for homework.” The two drawings were both disturbing, but the one that stood out to me the most was Ava’s. It was of a woman burning in a small chamber.

     Miss Blanchard suggested I take them back to Dr. Hopper, but no amount of counseling was going to fix this. Nick and Ava’s true selves were shining through and they were fixating on something that connects us.

     They’re fine when they’re around other people. I just needed to give them back and stay as far away from them as possible. Last week, I asked Sister Astrid if I could take advantage of that return policy Mother Superior mentioned.

     “You’re just nervous.” She said. “The children are, too. You’re both so close to becoming a family. They’ve been through a lot, so it’s true that they might not be your typical children. But I know they’re so grateful to have you. You just have to have faith. I have faith in you.” She turned and left, and I knew I was stuck with them.

     The next morning, on the way to school, Ava called me a witch. This made my hands tighten on the steering wheel. Witches are treated differently in this world than in the old one. Of course dark witches are feared and light witches are appreciated back home, but this world doesn’t differentiate between the two. And even though Hansel and Gretel knew the difference, these children are seeing the world from Nick and Ava’s perspectives.

     Over the next several days, the children started testing me. I’ve read enough while searching for Vivian’s book to know that the past people of this world tested their witches to prove they were witches. The tests were stupid, but so were the people conducting them. Even so, Nick and Ava weren’t familiar with the correct tests for witches at first. Nick brought home a clove of garlic and shoved it in my face. I promised him I wasn’t a vampire and used the garlic in our lasagna for dinner. On the night of the last full moon, the children sat and stared at me.

     “Wrong house,” I said before sending them to bed.

     But their tests became more accurate. On Thursdays, I take the children with me to the cemetery so we can both pay respects to our family who’s buried there. When we visit my father’s crypt, we only visit the surface. I haven’t gone underground to my safe haven since taking them in. I’m sure everything’s collecting dust. Afterwards we go back into town to Granny’s.

      This Thursday, on our way back into town, Nick begged me to pull over. He’d been drinking water all day and didn’t take care of things before we left the house. Now he was panicking and we wouldn’t reach town in time. I pulled off to the side of the road and Nick ran into the woods. I shouted after him not to go too far. After five minutes, I became concerned, so Ava and I got out of the car and searched for him. We walked down to the river bank, but there was no sign of him.

     “There he is!” Ava was pointed to our right. I turned and saw Nick was running up to us. Then hands pushed against my back. I fell into the river and splashed around to get my bearings, while Nick and Ava just stood and watched me. I called out for them to help me, but they continued to study my actions. The water was cold, but the current wasn’t as strong as it could have been and I was able to pull myself out. I stood before them, wet and shivering.  

     “Why the hell did you do that?!” I removed my coat and held it away from me as water poured from it.

     “You floated.” Nick said.

     “Oh, is that what I was doing?”

     “You failed the test.” Ava said.

     “Did I?” The wind suddenly picked up around us. I used it to emphasize my authority. “Well, there will be no more tests, or you won’t be going back to Sister Astrid. You’ll be going someplace much worse.”

     “Hi, Graham!” Ava smiled at the Sheriff as he strolled over. She was clearly smitten, and who could blame her?

     “What are you doing out here?” Graham held out his arms and Nick and Ava ran to him. Graham hugged Ava with one arm and used his other arm to ruffle Nick’s hair. The children who were attempted-murderers only seconds ago giggled at his affection.

     “We stopped by the lake and Regina fell in.” Nick looked up at the Sheriff and back to me. “She’s okay now. We tried to help her.”

     “No, you didn’t!” I was soaked, shivering and furious. Graham made the smart decision of getting the children away from me. Once they’d left for my car, he offered to escort me into town before going back to work.

     “No, Graham, I need you to stay with me. They’re different when I’m alone with them.”

     “They’re fine. They’re children.” He was so confident. “They were probably scared to see you fall in.”

     I locked the children in their rooms (and locked my own door, just to be safe) and called Mother Superior that night and expressed my concern for the twins’ well-being and told her my decision to give them back. Mother Superior gave me a quote from the bible about strength and the ability to love before telling me we should wait out the trial period. She said she’d see us in church on Sunday before hanging up.

     I know the people of Storybrooke aren’t aware that I’m the only one who’s not supposed to be miserable, but it seems like they all believe I should be dead. No one believes that these children are dangerous, therefore only one option remains: I have to kill them before they kill me.

Friday, June 7th, 1991

     It’s taken me this long to admit to myself that I am ready to be a mother. The pain of losing my baby has been difficult to get past and I don’t think it will ever really vanish, but I want to raise a child. Clearly, natural childbirth is not an option, which leaves adoption as my only choice.

     Adoption is a problem of its own. When I cast the curse, I made it so no child would need to be adopted. Even though I believe the adults from my kingdom deserve to suffer for their treachery, I’ve come to believe that children don’t deserve as strong of a punishment. They are not at fault for what their parents do, and even though they have the potential to make those same mistakes, for a certain span of time, they are innocent. Because of that, I made it so every child in Storybrooke would have a home. Granted, they might not always be the happiest of homes, but no child is homeless or hungry. Not bad for an evil queen.

     Perhaps I should have just taken all of the children out of the Enchanted Forest to live away from the adults, but I don’t think that would have been effective. I tried that once as queen, by hiring a musician to do that for me, but it didn’t work out so well.

     That being said, things have changed since we first arrived. People have died and it has caused the town to make adjustments. One of them had children, and the nuns of Storybrooke opened the town’s first orphanage. The Sisters only have two orphans who are ready to have a new parent, but as much as I want to be a mother and they seem my only option, I’ve been hesitant.

     When Deputy Sanchez died, only a few witnessed it and it corrected a great problem with the curse. Therefore, it was easy for the curse to wipe most everyone’s memory of him without affecting anyone. However, when Dory Zimmer was killed at the television station, many people witnessed it. Also, taking away television only seemed to solve a problem for Sidney, not correct an imperfection in the curse. We still can hear the radio sometimes, as well as get subscriptions to magazines. Dory left behind two children, a brother and sister, but they are not my first choice. After all, her children were the only child targets of my curse.

     I’m still going back and forth about how much I really want to become a mother again. Would it just be easier to kill another parent and take their child? Of course, but people might find out. These two are really the best option.

     My desire to be a mother won out today. I went to the Sisters’ orphanage and spoke with Mother Superior. We sat in her office, in two fluffy chairs that faced each other. One of the Sisters brought us hot tea and Mother Superior prepared a cup for me. Despite her warmth, I could sense that I was not completely welcome. I took a sip from the cup she handed me and braced myself for the interview.

    “There have been several interested parties.” Mother Superior poured tea into a tiny china cup for herself before sitting down. “But most want just the boy or the girl. We believe it would be best to keep them together.”

     “I agree.”

     “They’ve grown very accustomed to being here. The church is an important part of their lives.” She kept her hands folded in her lap while the steam from her neglected tea cup swirled beside her. “I haven’t seen you attend a service in quite some time. It’s important to us as well as to the children that whoever adopts them continues to keep the church in their hearts. Would you do that as their mother?”

     I found it funny that if it wasn’t for me, none of the people in this town would even follow this religion, including the Sisters. If she was aware of how many people I converted from the religion of our old world to the religion of this one, she might give me a break.

     “Of course.”

     She was hesitant. To be fair, I was too. We both knew this was going well. The nun who had brought the tea in returned to take our empty cups and Mother Superior whispered something in her ear before she left.

     “We will handle this cautiously. You will have the children for a trial basis of three months to see if you are a good match. This is for their benefit as well as yours. During this time, one of the Sisters will be assigned to visit you once a week to see how things are progressing. At the end of the trial period, if she decides you will make a good match, then the adoption process can begin. Do you agree to this?”

     “I do.”

      Mother Superior called for her door to be opened and a different nun came into the room with the brother and sister. The children who were once Hansel and Gretel were introduced to me as Nick and Ava Zimmer. The nun who brought them before me had a hand on a shoulder of each child. Mother Superior introduced her as Sister Astrid. She would be the one checking in on us. The nun giggled, curtsied and offered a hand for me to shake. Nick and Ava were shy, but smiled and greeted me when I introduced myself to them.

     “How would you like to live with me?” I asked. This time, I was given a different answer.

     “We’d like that, Miss Mills.” Ava spoke on behalf of both of them.

     I took them home and showed them where they’d be sleeping. Right now, they just look like guest rooms, but I told them we would start making them look like their own rooms tomorrow. We had a quiet but nice dinner before they went to bed. I never expected to forgive Hansel and Gretel for betraying me, but wiping their memories might be the thing we all needed. I think this was a good idea after all.

Tuesday, November 21st, 1989

     Graham volunteered to take me to my follow-up visit with Dr. Whale the week after my surgery. I hadn’t left my house the entire time. I hadn’t answered my phone. The curtains stayed closed. I didn’t even turn the lights on most of the time after the sun set. Kathryn finally forced herself in the day before my doctor visit to make sure I was eating and made me promise to meet her on Monday. It was her doing that Graham was taking me to the doctor in the first place, as I had taken his heart from under my bed once I was home from the hospital and alone, brushed it off, put it back in its box and left it alone ever since.

     But on the drive to the hospital, Graham spoke as though nothing bothered him. And nothing did, even if I ordered him to be bothered by something. He stopped the riot single-handed, without any of the violence upsetting him. My miscarriage didn’t upset him either, or the fact that he couldn’t be there thanks to the riot. He spoke as though they had all been casual things that had happened last week, and spoke of our engagement the same way.

     “No!” My protest was enough to get Graham to stop the car in the middle of the street. “We’re not getting married. I don’t even know why I said yes, but now that there’s no baby—“ My voice stopped working for a moment and tears threatened to come. I got out of the car and took a deep breath before leaning back in to see his confused face. “We’re not meant to be married, so just go back to work, Sheriff.” I turned and walked the rest of the way to the hospital. I could hear Graham obeying me as his car drove off behind me.

     I’m doing better, physically. Dr. Whale said I was in good enough condition to return to work on Monday if I wished. Before I left, he prescribed me birth control pills. His very words were that they were to help avoid something like this from happening again. Things were starting to make sense. The line I stood in at Mr. Clark’s drug store was full of women who all shared a look of resignation in their eyes.

     The walk back to work was a quiet one. The air was still thick with the shock and disappointment of what had happened at the television station. I let Storybrooke be as I recuperated and grieved the loss of my baby, so I only had a vague idea of what happened. Sidney was waiting for me outside my office when I arrived. We went inside and he informed me of what had happened at the television station. He spoke as though he’d been a general watching a battle from the horizon. As the wall was coming down in Berlin, a disguised reporter was planted in the Storybrooke crowd as an instigator while Leroy spoke. After a whisper or two into people’s ears and a few well-placed shouts, it didn’t take long to sway the crowd into believing the problem was actually television itself. They made their way to the television station and protested outside. Sidney’s plan worked and the mob became violent. Soon the morning news show was invaded by the protesters. There were lots of injuries and one fatality. A camera was pushed over onto a co-anchor and she died from her injuries. Sidney didn’t need to tell me her name; everyone in town loved turning their televisions on in the morning so Dory Zimmer could be part of their day.

     As soon as Sidney had finished, one of my assistants came in and prepared me for Ms. Zimmer’s memorial we were having that afternoon. Before he left the room, he handed me a speech that had been written in my absence, but Sidney asked if he could proof-read it. He took the sheet of paper and scanned its only paragraph before he sat down and pulled out a pencil. Sidney scribbled as fast as he could and handed the speech back to me.

     That afternoon, before a crowd of people along with reporters for the same newspaper and a lone camera and television reporter, I spoke of the lessons Dory Zimmer’s death taught us. First, how we need to respect one another and be rational. The second lesson, thanks to Sidney’s pencil, was that too much of what we were watching was negative and unhealthy. Had there been more positive television, like what is shown on our local station, Miss Zimmer might still be alive. There was no disagreement from the crowd before me, so I announced that as of today, all television stations would be turned off except for ours.

     After work, I met Kathryn at Granny’s. She was standing outside and informed me we were going to the hospital. At first I was worried about her seeing David, but she hadn’t said anything since picking me up last week. As soon as we got in, we met the nurse at the reception desk. She seemed to be familiar with Kathryn and wrote out two “Volunteer” name tags for us. I told Kathryn I didn’t want to volunteer; it was too soon to be back here, and I did not want to work alongside Mary Margaret. Kathryn insisted we’d be fine and walked us down the corridor I’d seen her in two months ago. Instead of turning right at the end where David was, we turned left to a kind of meeting room. Metal folding chairs had been arranged in a circle on the tile floor, and there was coffee and cookies on a small table along an empty green wall.

     We weren’t the only ones in there. Eight other women were waiting with us. Some were sitting in the chairs. Some were standing and chatting. All of them I recognized as the other volunteers from two months ago and most of them I also recognized from the line at the drug store.

     “Would you like a cookie?” Kathryn started to go to the table, but I made her come back and stand with me. With cookies would come conversation with these other women, and I had no desire to talk to them.

     Before long, Dr. Hopper came in and we all sat down. In his quiet but respectful voice, he welcomed us and invited us to take turns talking about our experiences.

     “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” Kathryn leaned over and whispered to me.

     One by one, the women shared their experiences, and they were all the same: every one of them had miscarried by their fourth month. Most were resigned to their one experience, but a few still held out hope.

     “We have our daughter, Paige, who we adopted.” This fourth woman was smiling, but had started by saying she’d been coming to these meetings for as long as she could remember—everyone’s favorite amount of time. “We love her, but I still want us to have our own children. I’ve miscarried four times now and Dr. Whale is very insistent that I go on the birth control. So is my husband. But I want to give birth to a child. So we keep trying.”

     Most of the women were on birth control, but some didn’t see a need for one reason or another. There was plenty of shoulder patting, head nodding and hand squeezing. I was counting the minutes for when it would end.

     “My name is Kathryn. I’ve been here a few times and just listened. All of you are so brave. My husband left me some time ago. We got into an argument and he was gone the next day. But before he left, we were trying to make it work. We had a moment of intimacy and several weeks after he was gone I discovered I was carrying his child. I chose to keep it, but I lost it. Dr. Whale prescribed me the birth control, but I didn’t see a point.”

     “I want you all to know it’s not your fault.” Dr. Hopper reinforced after Kathryn spoke.

     But he was wrong. It was their fault. They were on the side of Snow White. If they had sided with me and helped me destroy her, maybe I wouldn’t have been swayed to cast this curse? Then all of my subjects could have all the babies they wanted.

     I left the meeting with things making sense: I’d fallen victim to the curse. This was something I could have avoided had I seen it. No children are born in Storybrooke because nothing changes here. And that’s exactly what I wanted. I walked past Mary Margaret on my way out and held my head high, and I went home with the knowledge that I was still victorious.

     But once I was home alone in my dark house, something didn’t feel right. I suppose a week isn’t enough to recover, even though I know what’s never meant to be. I felt lonely. I turned every light on in the house, but nothing. I ate dinner, but the emptiness was still there. Finally, I grabbed the box that held Graham’s heart and ordered him to come to me.

     A man in control of himself would not come, not after being treated the way I treated him a few days ago. But Graham came and got into bed with me. I moved close to him and just tried to fall asleep.

     “Don’t you want to turn off any of the lights?” He asked.

     “No.”