Faustales, 5

Status: Finished (Anglican Christmas, 2024)

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“Licking caused me to melt”

Fairytales | Snow White

The winter is really cold this year, but my body temperature is always low because that’s just what kind of girl I am. I turn down all boys at the school I go to, and I always make sure to insult them as much as I can. I’m a cold-hearted Snow White, and I’m alone because I want to be alone, but not because I was born in a Summer World.

At school, I lock myself in the toilet, even though I never get bullied because I’m the one who bullies others. I’m the one who steals my friends’ boyfriends and then I dump them and then my friends dump me. It’s quite sorrowful but I feel compassionate, so that’s why whenever there’s a lunch break at school, I lock myself into the toilet.

When I’m locked in the toilet I don’t do indecent things that the other girls do. I hear a lot of them in the neighbouring stalls and I’m surprised how much vigor they have during these cold winter days. The cold wind blows even inside the school building which surprises me a lot, so I’m not left with much choice other than to embrace it, and luckily I’m Snow White, which means I don’t care about winter and I only care if it’s summer, because then I will cry and melt away.

I sit on the toilet and lick my skin and I smell it. I love the smell of my pale white skin – it’s white as snow but it smells like candy whenever I lick it. Salted caramel. I specifically lick an area on my left hand a little bit above my wrist because that’s where the best smell is located. At times I even want to eat my hand because it smells so good but I can’t determine why my pale almost dead skin smells like that? I don’t know the reason behind it but this Summer World tormented me enough, so I don’t really mind having the opportunity to lick my skin, smell it, and then repeat the process over and over again.

I’m an addict, but I’m addicted to myself, which puts addiction in a weird spot of existence as I currently can’t recognize myself. But I know I’m myself when I see my pale dead white hands, but when I look into the mirror all I see is just the wall that’s behind me, there’s nothing else besides the wall behind me. It’s like I don’t exist, I will never know how I look beside the pale almost dead white hands that I have. Sometimes I feel like a pale moonlight, and instead of Snow White, I think they should’ve named me Pale Moonlight, at least it would’ve been more accurate and I would probably smell like cookies because the moon smells like cookies.

I don’t eat many sweet things because I’m the sweetest thing in the world. Every time I swallow my saliva it feels like I’m drinking a super sweet juice made of cotton candy, each time I lick and smell myself it’s as if I’m eating an endless amount of cotton candy that exists within me, and I use that opportunity to digest it more and more which brings me pleasure during the cold winter days that soothe me.

I cheated on everyone in this school but everyone is scared of me because I can make everyone forget about a person I don’t wish to exist in my own personal little world. I don’t know where I am but if I had to guess I’m probably inside a dome, inside a wall, or maybe inside myself. Maybe I’m a cotton candy producing machine and maybe my existence can only be doubted and never proven. There are a lot of things that I question but I can’t give an answer to things I don’t know other than that that my skin smells nice and that I can’t stop licking myself. I lick all parts of my body until they get irritated by the roughness of my cold tongue, and I then digress and just return to sitting alone and pondering all the various thoughts that fill my pale almost dead white head. I assume at least my face is as pale as my hands are because it wouldn’t make sense for my face to be of a different color than my hands area, because that would be just blasphemy.

The winter is protruding through the walls and I feel like losing myself in the endless snowflakes that follow this winter’s breeze. God only knows where these snowflakes go but I just know that there’s a monster inside me, or maybe I’m full of cotton candy because I wouldn’t smell and feel like cotton candy if I didn’t have any relation to it. It’s a troubling matter that I yet can’t answer in any way possible but it’s still nice to have myself and myself only while the snow dances on the endless horizon.

Every time I look away all the people I knew disappear and they get replaced by the people that I think I know but yet I don’t know, and I’m left alone with a fear that forces me to retreat into the school bathroom where I lick myself until the day starts again with my coming to school as if nothing happened. I greet all of my friends, steal their boyfriends, cheat on their boyfriends, dump their boyfriends, my friends dump me because of that and I get a lot of relationship requests from those who want to pursue a relationship with me. But I laugh and turn them all down because they will disappear as soon as I lose them from my sight which is devoid of color that is brighter than white, blue, and grey. I go into the bathroom, solemnly lick myself, and smell myself until my senses utterly consume me and then the timeloop starts again and I’m forced to go through an entire process of social interactions with the memory of my purpose slipping away – the only thing I can sense is cotton candy and my hand that I’m forced to lick in retribution to life.

I lick myself and I melt like a snowman, but maybe I was just confused from the beginning, maybe I’m not even Snow White but just a regular snowman. Even so, if that’s the case, snowmen don’t smell nor taste like cotton candy, and no one can deny the multiple existences I went through.