I Raised Snow White!

96. The Story of Snow White (2)

[Episode 96] – The Story of Snow White (2)

It was nice to be back when I was one year old, but honestly there was very little I could do at this age. All I could do was complain and babble to the maids.

However, the baby’s complaints are quite effective. If I just cry, the maids and maids will understand what I mean. So it was quite easy to reach my mother.

…When I saw my mother’s face for the first time, I really cried, not like I was complaining to the maids. It was the first time I saw my mother’s face in person, which I had always seen only in portraits.

Really, it was a face that looked exactly like me. To the point where I wonder if my face will look like this when I grow up. Red eyes embroidered beneath ebony black hair. It was the look of a haggard mother.

I guess it was true that you were sick. The smell of medicine and the musty smell peculiar to the sick were mixed in the room. When I saw my mother looking out the window with her sorrowful eyes, I made this promise.

I will live this twelfth life for my mother. In this life, I will save my mother, Aurora. Honestly, the reason my mother got sick was because I expected it. No, she was stupid for not knowing.

The person who gave my mother medicine was Vivian’s hand and foot. After dying about 11 times, I was able to identify all of Vivian’s limbs hiding in the castle. Finding the culprit was easy.

From then on, things moved smoothly. If I wasn’t by my mother’s side, I would cry at the top of my lungs and throw all the toys around me at the pharmacist who was giving my mother medicine.

So all the maids thought it was strange. I wonder why I, a baby, do strange things whenever the pharmacist comes. It was enough to make me suspicious. After that, the maids took care of it.

‘It’s a big deal because the princess hates the pharmacist… Why does she cry like this and then scream when the pharmacist comes? ‘Do you hate the smell of medicine coming from the pharmacist’s body?’

‘That won’t be the case again. You stayed calm when the doctor and other pharmacists came to diagnose the princess. The princess only said that to Her Majesty the Queen’s pharmacist.’

‘Why on earth…?’

The maids who had been observing my strange behavior became suspicious of the pharmacist, as I expected, and that suspicion spread to everyone’s ears, like ripples caused by a rock thrown into a calm lake.

After hearing the rumor, the maid Jang suspected the pharmacist, and she began to listen to the opinions of other pharmacists. I don’t know what happened to the pharmacist after that, but she was never seen in her mother’s room again.

Instead, her father personally found a pharmacist who gave her mother medicine, and her mother slowly began to regain her health. By the time I turned five, her mother’s health had improved to the point where she could even take her for walks.

Just like that, my mother regained her health. She is so healthy that she can appear in public. When I saw my mother’s health, I was happy too. Finally, I felt like my mother would take care of me.

… That’s right, actually, my mother didn’t take care of me until I was five years old. She wouldn’t even make eye contact with me. As soon as I was a toddler she kicked me out, saying she didn’t want to share the same room.

At that time, I thought it was just because I was sick. Right? When you’re sick, you’re more important than others, right? So she thought my mother didn’t care about me.

Really, she believed it would happen.

…I guess I was less dead back then.

I found out later that my mother was not interested in me. She said she didn’t like it, she didn’t hate it, she just wasn’t interested. The only thing her mother loved was her father.

He said he had no interest in me, the child born between them. Even though I was next to her, chirping like a baby bird all day long, or following her around like a chick following its parents, my mother wasn’t interested in me.

So, when I turned six years old. She was the first time my mother asked me to sleep with her. When she asked me to come into her own bedroom, I was so excited that she was going to sleep with her mother for the first time.

I was so happy to sleep with the mother I had only dreamed of. I went to her mother’s bedroom, even prepared a children’s book for her to read to her mother. I’m past the mental age to read children’s books, but…

It was a small dream of mine to listen to children’s books from my mother. My dream was to lie down in the same bed with my mother and fall asleep while listening to a storybook. Well, it’s a trivial and cute dream, right?

I knocked on my mother’s bedroom like that, and she told me to come in. She smiled brightly at the sight of my mother, who was already lying on the bed waiting for me, and I also climbed on the bed.

When I lay down in bed, I was so happy to feel my mother’s warmth. I couldn’t help but laugh as I wondered if this was how a chick being held by a chicken would feel.

She asked her mother to read her a story, but her mother refused because she was not feeling well. It’s unfortunate, but it can’t be helped, right? She said her mother was sick and she didn’t want to be a bad daughter who threw a tantrum.

I was just happy just being by my mother’s side. I loved feeling the warmth of my mother’s blanket. I was happy just to be able to hear my mother’s breathing nearby.

But why?

I suddenly felt suffocated and struggled. Even when I opened my eyes, it was dark, something was pressing hard on me and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak, I just flailed my arms and legs.

I tried to cry out for help, but I couldn’t breathe. I grabbed the arm of someone who was pressing my face and scratched it hard with their fingernails. Please save me, please save me. That I was wrong.

But the more I did it, the more something pressing on my face pressed me harder. As it took a long time, it started to strangle me. Die, please die. That you have to die.

In my fading consciousness, I heard clearly.

‘Why were you born? Because of you, he made me…!’

My mother’s voice as if she were lamenting my existence.

Only then did I realize my mistake.

Why do I have to do this?

Why do I have to die like this?

The only time my mother cared about me was when her father loved me. Because of my father’s position as king, he couldn’t see my mother and me often. He came to visit us about once a week.

My mother thought she was taking away that precious time from me once a week. She thought that as much as my father paid attention to me, my mother had less time for that attention.

He killed me so that he could use that time only for himself.

He killed me only to be loved by his father.

It was only after repeating it three times that I realized that it was her mother’s nature.

My mother never used anything like poison. Smothering them with a pillow, or going on a boat ride with them and pushing them on their backs. She killed me with what seemed like a small mistake like this.

When I realized that not even my mother who gave birth to me loved me, I just wanted to die. I really didn’t want to live. There are countless ways to die, right?

I could have died without failure just by falling on my head from the terrace. But I couldn’t do it because I was scared. No matter how much I think about it, it’s clear that I have no attachment to my life, but I didn’t have the courage to die.

After realizing that I did not have the courage to take my own life, what I desperately wanted was to die slowly and naturally. Because it was really promising.

Even if I die anyway, I will return again. There will be another opportunity anyway. In my 20th life, I didn’t eat anything and stayed in my room.

Because I wasn’t eating anything, I had no energy, and there was no hope in my heart, so I could clearly feel like I was dying. Every time I looked in the mirror, I felt a strange joy as I saw myself slowly dying.

I died like that, and I died again at Vivian, and I died again. Even though I repeated it about 30 times, the maximum I lived was until I was 15. Until then, I had never felt like an adult.

Like that, my thirty-fourth life.

The moment I returned was my father’s funeral.

During my thirty-three regressions, I have never died as much as my father. The moment I returned, my father died. Of course my mother died first. So, she is the only human left by my side.

‘I will be raising you from today.’

‘……’

‘Aren’t you saying hello? ‘Whose daughter is this? Her personality is nasty.’

‘…Thank you very much. Her Royal Highness the Second Queen Vivian.’

It was only Vivian who became my protector.

This was my first time experiencing something like this, so there was nothing I could do. Until now, at least my father was by my side, but now he isn’t there either.

Up until this point, I thought I wouldn’t be able to live much longer in this life. If I got involved with Vivian, I would inevitably die, but this time, Vivian is raising me? I thought that if I lived just one week, I would live a long time.

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At that time, I was helpless in life and death was insignificant. I just acted like if I was going to kill him, I would kill him. But, unexpectedly, Vivian didn’t kill me. What kind of ‘talent’ do I have?

And, now that her father is dead, Vivian seemed to place significance on the fact that I am the person closest to her father. Honestly, I still don’t understand what my mother or Vivian are thinking.

My father is dead, so what does that have to do with me as I am related to him by blood? I just wanted my obsession to be limited to my father. Even though I was obsessed with Vivian, it only made me disgusted and annoyed.