2

The next day, Charles fell in love with her sister, Odette. Maleficent was sitting on the porch of her favourite tree when she saw Odette with her parents, and they went to the inn where they disappeared inside. How could Maleficent not know of this?

Because she was already distant from the rest of her family, to the point where she'd just take her dinner and eat alone in her room, while her family conversed about topics unrelated with herself.

Perhaps it just happened that one of those topics was finding Odette a suitor, and they'd heard of Charles's arrival in town.

So Maleficent peered through the inn's window, where she saw Charles beam up with Odette's presence, and it was like a light had flickered in his eyes, as it seemed he was talking about one thing with her sister, and then the next, and the next.. like they were in no danger of running out of topics to excite them both.

Maleficent had never seen that light before, in the moments that he'd lingered around her. She'd never seen him beam up like that.

Then a pang of envy shot through her heart. What did her petite sister have about her that she lacked? Her golden hair? Or was it that her sister was so *normal* in comparison with her - she had numerous friends, had all the moments of casual joy, the innate talent of being generally likable. Where she was just able to connect with those people with such ease, as Maleficent found it a joy to silently experience the grass and weeds growing from the cracks of the ground, the shadows silhouetting everything in daylight and twilight, and imagining the fantastical moments to herself out of everything she experiences.

Maybe the two things were like apples and oranges; supposedly incomparable besides that they were both sweet fruits.

After a while of observing, it hit Maleficent that she never mentioned to him about her family, and she wondered if he'd realise that it was her sister he was speaking to, and she just lingered on his eyes, hoping he'd make the connection.

She could only look; the very words spoken are distantly muffled by the glass, and they saw her as only a mere shadow beside the bushes.

And afterward, Charles bowed down to her family, and accompanied them back to their home - Maleficent followed behind them from afar, finally able to listen in to their conversation.

"Do you have a sister?" Charles asked.

There was a bout of uncomfortable hesitation, and then Odette answered him, "I do.. but she is away right now. Besides, you wouldn't want to meet her. She's quite cuckoo."

"Oh. Alright."

That bitch.

Maleficent's hands furl, and the thought of ripping out her sister's golden locks (to shreds) was incredibly tempting.

So, it seemed Charles did not really know of her relation to Odette.

Perhaps.. the next time she'd meet with him, she would tell him: I am her sister, Maleficent - and my love for you is deeper and more sincere than any of her exquisite charms. Please love me back, like I've loved you. My heart is aching, and I cannot bear to wait any longer for your answer.

Don't leave me alone in the darkness..

And at dinner, Maleficent decided to stay at the table, which ruined the usually jovial atmosphere into a hesitant parody of itself, where her Mere and Papi were reluctant to talk about the meeting with Charles, until she corralled them with piercing words into divulging the gist of the meeting.

Charles would marry Odette; it had been decided. Another day or so of them meeting each other again would seal the deal.

To Maleficent, it felt like her heart had been stabbed, the wound tearing and expanding, her hands and feet growing cold, while a white-hot anger was forming in her chest.

"I'll.. be in my room," she told them, flustered, a revealing quiver in her voice. "Please don't bother me.."

On her bed, she wept, helpless to the flood of sadness that ran its course. She muffled her sobs in her pillow, clutching onto its softness, the fabric wrapping gentle feathers inside.

Her only companion.

Little did she know her family heard her cries from outside, as with all her moments of crying in the solitude of her room.

Then it was morning, and Maleficent was weakly, her eyes aching from all the crying, and she felt little else besides dread for the day. The warm sun was like a searing light that went through her curtains and it burnt her eyes, and her parents had to coax her out of her room so she could eat the porridge breakfast with what little appetite she had.

She saw Odette, well-dressed, her dress navy-blue with white lapels - happily downing every drop of porridge and bread, her mood cheery as she talked about a future life as a royal Queen. There were her hopes of governing this province in France to a better future, with the excitement of a lifestyle of luxuries to pamper her mood, for the heavy responsibilities of orchestrating a few dozen districts in the province.

If Maleficent were to sit in the throne beside Charles, she would wear a modest black dress that reflected in no way the conventional notions of aristocracy; just her inner nobility and sincerity – she'd gladly embrace the shadows where others would fear to tread. And above all, she'd willingly listen to the individual troubles of even the smallest beggar,

and she'd kiss his cheeks and cradle his heart, and whisper only the most comforting words that will give him every reason to live and exist.

But it is doubtful that Odette would carry out Maleficent's desires out of her own will, let alone be sincere in her boastful promises of making this province of France a better place to live.

Those were cliched dreams Odette had, like every aspiring princess would have from the stories, the rumours and theatre plays they put on twice every month – and Maleficent wanted to tell her that directly. But feeling the joyous mood between the family, she decided to remain silent as her parents affirmed every word Odette said.

Maleficent had to find Charles.

She should tell him at least all the hopes she'd felt about being a governing personage, with the ability to exercise choice over far-reaching matters, with as much authority granted to the King as is necessary.

That afternoon, she found him, taking off from the restaurant with his parents. The sun beat down on her, the sweldering heat. Her chest was filled with excitement mixed with trepidation.

Behind them, she called out his name.

His parents turned around, and saw her – this woman who resembled one of those rootless, vagrant people with her dreary outwear.

"Buzz off, gipsy!" his father said. "If it's our money you want, get a job and earn a legitimate living of your own!"

There was a look of recognition in Charles's eyes though, and he calmed his parents.

"Maleficent.." he went.

"I.."

For some reason, it simply felt wrong to confess herself with his parents looming over the two of them. The words just wouldn't come.

Briefly at first, she wondered if she could find a reason to bring Charles into a lone corner nearby, but that would still mean being conscious of the fact his parents would be waiting for them to finish; the sooner, the better, for this interruption was already becoming a waste of their time.

"I.. I'm sorry.." she eventually said, looking glum. "Please.. don't forget me, whatever happens. I just want you to remember me."

It was all she could say, and she felt so utterly embarassed afterward, as she quickly departed – running away, the glimpse of his barest reaction seared into her memory, still fresh, like a tender wound.

Was it a mirroring of her feelings, in his eyes? Was he going to tell her to buzz off, like a fly? To only imagine what had happened, it sent pangs of self-consciousness through her being.

What could she had done differently..? If she had the merest chance of him ever reflecting her in the mirrors of his eyes, she would seize it with all her will.

I just wanted to show you my heart, from this insignificant me.

Without a point of reference, without having mattered to anyone meaningful, a person has little way of affirming their own value, their own meaning and identity.

So the day had passed, and a beautiful evening transitioned into the night's darkness. Maleficent did not want to gaze upon her sister's brimming joy, nor did she want to experience the ripples of her rash meeting with Charles – so when she went by his inn then, there was Charles and Odette, sharing the white petals of a flower in each others' hands.

And she went away from that sight's torture.

Even it it meant missing out the chance to take him to the concrete block, where her words awaited him.

Eventually, it was the wedding day of Charles and Odette, by the cathedral. Maleficent told her family she would prefer to stay at home, despite her parents' insistance that this was a royal wedding "with your sister, no less!"

"Go away," Maleficent said.

"It's just this one time.."

"GO AWAY!"

"If she doesn't want to go," Odette went, straightening her veil, "she doesn't have to. You shouldn't cajole her into something she doesn't want."

Thousands upon thousands of people would attend, and Maleficent would be hidden amidst the swarm of them, while Charles and Odette would be the focus of everyone's attention, from the marriage vows to their kiss and the carriage that would sweep them off to the Capital. No one would ever know that she and he had touched and kissed, tenderly, once upon a time.

Was it fair? Of course not. But only the victors get to decide how history is to be remembered by everyone. That Odette.. that Odette's love had triumphed above all over winning Charles's soul.

What should it matter, to be hurt by that one person, Charles?

It shouldn't matter.

He was only just one person out of many.

Yet there was a feeling of doubt in her – were the moments she'd spent with him just an illusory dream? A dream only she remembered.. and maybe Charles himself as well?

Did he want to tell her that he indeed loved her at that time, when she shamefully ran away from him and his family that fateful afternoon?

She had to know. And there was only one way to be sure.

So she would see him.. one more time.

It was a wedding, and even for her, she felt she had to dress herself properly for this one and only day, and what attire should she pick? When Odette discussed being Queen, Maleficent remembered how she'd wanted to appear as being the Queen herself.

She searched the closets, and found the black attire – a mixture of a mourning dress, with black stockings, and a black hat that shielded her face with its veil.

Outside, she could hear the cathedral's bell, resonantly announcing the joyful occasion in the distance. The streets were mainly devoid of people, except for the patrolmen who were watchful of any would-be thieves wishing to take advantage of the day's opportunity.

Her legs carried her until she saw the swarm of people by the cathedral's plaza, and in the air were the doves and the white and pink petals, scattering down from the bell tower by the bellhop servants, as Queen Odette and King Charles emerged out the doors, walking down the red carpet, people's gazes kissing the very ground on which they walked upon.

Behind the newly-wed couple, there was a parade – a wedding cake with fork and cutting knife, flowing banners of the various cities, and the trailing men and ladies in white who threw roses into the crowd, for those lucky enough to catch one for themselves.

The sight of it all overwhelmed Maleficent, dazing her with its awe and sheer beauty.

So this is what a real wedding is like..

There was Charles, and he was getting close to that white carriage, with its white horses decorated with golden reins, whose clopping on the ground bore a music of its own.

And Maleficent seemed so far away from him, separated by all those people.

She had to reach him.

She foisted herself through the gaps she found between the men and women, the petite children who were as tall as her waist – much to their consternation, and she found herself by the erected barrier of blue rope, where she climbed over, as Charles was helping Odette up into the carriage..

The guards immediately noticed Maleficent's intrusion into the spree, and they were running towards her..

"CHARLES!" His name erupted from her lips, like a divine command – silencing everyone, interrupting the ceremony.

And he turned towards her, and saw her.

She pulled off her black hat, so he could see her face clearly as a black beauty.

"I, MALEFICENT," she yelled, "have loved you dearly with all my heart and being!"

Even the guards were arrested by the force of her words, as she staggered towards him, by the carriage, his eyes lingering upon her.

"Do you love me?" He was marrying Odette, but it was not impossible for one to still love another person inside.

And oui, she knew she was making a fool of herself like then – except this time, she would not want to run away. She wanted his answer, right here and now.

"Do you love me, Charles?"

And in the silence, she waited for him.

A young boy was looking upon her too from the side, and he had in his hand an ice cream cone, which he licked with his tongue, before he pelted it upon the interrupting Maleficent – on her ear.

And everyone laughed.

Someone else threw their ice cream cone at her, and then it was shoes, and even the roses with their thorns, and they laughed and laughed, delightfully lashing her with humiliation, as she saw Charles turn away from her and enter the carriage with Odette, shutting the door behind himself.

And they still kept laughing; even the guards, whose buffawing got some of them to their knees with their armour rattling.

She was on the red carpet, covered with vanilla and strawberry-flavoured goop, and smelly shoes, and all the other crap that the people could come up with, from their hands.. from their mouths..

For them, it was the most delightfully unexpected moment of the wedding.

For her, it hurt, so much, so much.

The flower petals, having celebrated the couple's departure, wept for her with pity, and she was weak on the ground, curling up into a shivering fetal position, and from where she was, the doves looked like crows, her seeing their flying silhouettes under the bright blue sky.

..

I hate you.
I hate you all.
Because you are so capable of goodness and kindness, with each other, but you don't show them to me.

I wish you could suffer as much as me, if not more.
I'll make you feel pain, a thousand times over, for as long as I live.
May you learn my misery forever.
I'll jab it into your hearts.

Yes.

I will..

And despite the pain, Maleficent rose up from the ground, her eyes reddened from her crying, cold and bitter towards all the life surrounding her.

She'd always wondered what it would be like to destroy that happiness which tormented her.

So she saw the knife by the wedding cake, and while everyone was still laughing, at her, she went and took the blade into her hands, and went up to the barrier of blue rope, and thrust it into a nearby man's chest,

straight into HIS BEATING HEART.

And the colourful redness emerged, his life's water spilling out, dying his dress red, and the ground red, and the surrounding people red.

And she saw him gurgling as his face reflected terrible pain, gnawing in his chest, his eyes terrified, realising he was going to die.

And from the laughing, there were the terrified screams of everyone, blossoming all over, and the sound of it felt good and exquisite to her ears.

And the guards, realising her irreversibly evil act, began to advance on her, brandishing their swords, prepared to either arrest her, or slay her on the spot.

She glanced at them. They could kill her. It would make no difference.

But the feelings of shame emerged from her now, and she staggered away from the guards, the rope barrier collapsing behind her, and inexplicably, her voice let out a crazed, terrible cackling of someone who'd embraced insanity as the final solution, when life had turned its back on her.

Maleficent's hands trembling, the fresh blood dripping down her fingers, she dropped the knife and decided that she'd run away from it all.

The people.

The city.

She ran away to where there were no people, a place that was yet to be tainted by people's hands. The beautiful forest. Her second home, where others were fearful to venture into.

And she did not care if the branches and vines scratched at her face, tearing gashes on her cheeks and bare skin, as her legs carried her as far away from the city as they possibly could.

Until she could no longer hear their screaming, until her body finally gave way into exhaustion, and she collapsed on the mossy ground, limp and weak and dying of pain that she'd endured all this time – that she'd spread to another person.

Let me die.

She felt her senses tingling with a strange energy, as it seemed her consciousness was slipping away into permanent sleep, the darkness overtaking her vision, and she imagined her limbs were melting into shadowy oblivion.

..

It felt like an eternity, before she found the forest again in front of her eyes, in the moonlit night.

Something was different; she did not know what yet – she looked around at the trees and plants, and she saw a strange light emitted from their beings. The veins and pores from which the lifeforce of the Earth flowed through them, keeping them alive with water and nurturance.

And she looked at herself, her hands, and realised that they were like the hardened bark of trees – gnarly, crusty, yet the moist air breathed through the open pores, and she was able to bend her limbs normally, like before.

Her feet had become cloven hooves, like that of goats, or the Devil's.

Her awareness was slightly groggy as she aimlessly wandered through the trees, until she found a familiar place; the meadow clearing with the stagnant pool.

And there, she saw her reflection under the moonlight.

She was..

Where she had flowing black hair, she now had the aggressive horns of a Minotaur. Her eyes gleaming green, and her lips.. as darkly red as coagulated blood.

And who did this face belong to, the one she'd now seen in this pool?

My name.. is Maleficent.