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.”