The only person you need to prove yourself to is yourself.
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Snow White blinked as she stared at herself in the mirror.
The reflection within blinked as it stared hard at her.
“Your Stepmother never said that you were beautiful,” it droned. “You were never smart. You wouldn’t have succeeded in trumping her if it wasn’t for those seven dwarves, ” it sneered. “You’re just a pretty face.”
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Just before vanishing, Snow White’s reflection paused, steadying itself.
“I wanted my stepmum’s approval.
But since I couldn’t get it, I found joy without it, and the support of my dwarf friends. Is it wrong to love myself?”
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The reflection slowly emerged, stepping through the glass. Its skin was off-white. Its lips—red, but slightly chapped.
Its raven hair? Black, but slightly straggly.
It was flawed, but free.
As for Snow White’s dead stepmother’s test?
“I pass.” It grinned.
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