Free She'll Take It by Mary Carter

class was going to put on a production of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs . The next day we would read a few lines from the script and she would assign roles. In that instance, I knew my destiny. I was born to be Snow White. By the time class ended that day, I had whipped myself into such a frenzy that once home I dressed in rags and went about the house pricking my thumb with my mother’s sewing needles, bleeding all over our yellow shag carpet and sobbing “Why can’t I be a normal girl?” I think I was getting Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, and Pinocchio all mixed up, but nevertheless for a third grader I was putting on a stunning performance.
    So I wasn’t at all prepared for the next day when Mrs. Miller announced to the entire third-grade class that Lara Thomas was to play Snow White. I stared at my bandaged, bloodied thumb and turned to stone in my seat.
    â€œAnd Melanie Zeitgar will play the role of the Wicked Queen.”
    What? I stared at Mrs. Miller’s bright pink mouth, trying to make sense of what she had just said. Me? The Wicked Queen? Somehow I managed to sit there in my seat and not vomit. Somehow I ignored the snickers from Lara and the rest of the girls as they glanced at me to see how I was taking the news. Somehow I managed not to hurt anyone. Ironically, and again ever the method actress, that afternoon I stole an apple off Mrs. Miller’s desk and chewed on it all the way home.
    â€œWhy, Melanie darling,” my mother said later that evening when I dissolved on the kitchen floor in a puddle of grief and rage, “Snow White is nothing. Anyone can play Snow White. The Wicked Queen is a much bigger part. Without her it would be nothing but some little girl humming and skipping around the stage, and who wants to look at that? Honey, it takes a real actress to play the Wicked Queen.”
    My tears came to an immediate halt as the linoleum floor and I took in this new information. I lifted my head for a moment to see if she were making a joke. She looked pretty serious. And suddenly this incredible feeling of raw, blinding power surged through me. Mother is right. Snow White is nothing , I thought as a vision of Lara Thomas and her little brown pigtails floated before me. She’s nothing. And boy, is she going to be one sorry Snow White.
    I had all of my lines memorized by the next day, my real lines, the lines of a real actress. “Lady Pendula,” I announced in a booming voice, “shall I wear the red dress or the blue?” Every head in the class snapped to my attention, and Mrs. Miller’s bright pink mouth fell open in surprise. I had commanded the stage! And from that day on, Snow White didn’t stand a chance. I was the Wicked Queen. I practiced her voice, her walk, her evil cackling when she pretended to be the old witch bringing the apple to (pathetic) Snow White. The kid playing the mirror on the wall actually shook when I talked to him. Snow White was a joke, a pale shivering stick, a pathetic pawn on my stage.
    And my glory and reign lasted throughout rehearsals until the opening night, where I was so into my character that in a fit of Queenly rage I hauled off and smacked Snow White clear across the face before either of us knew what hit her. A week later, when I was allowed to come back to school, I was relegated to backstage duty and Lisa Hardy took over my reign as the Wicked Queen. But despite the suspension and the letters of apology, Dear Lara, I’m reel sorry if I smacked you (just in case there was any question in anyone’s mind if I did or not), and three weeks in a row of no television, I still would have done it all over again. It had been the best night of my life, and from that day forward, I was a real actress.
    That’s it! Remembering my roots has infused me with a new passion for my craft. I’m going to really throw myself back into the swing of things.
    Once I’m thin I’ll go on at least