The voices of the villagers echoed through her sensitive ears, everything so crisp. Something she was still unable to get used to. The woman wasn’t sure how long it had been. She had watched the days and nights pass by but there was no sure way to tell how long it had been. She wasn’t focused on the days, she was more worried about herself. She tried to move away from the groups that approached her. Her eyes scanning the forest for the cursed pale pink flower that triggered what ever this spell was.

Her dress was tattered as she ran through the tall grass and closely knit trees. Still in her wedding gown, her hair a mess, twigs and leaves stuck in her light brown locks. A voice called out to her right, her head shot in that direction. A man stood atop a hill, pointing towards her he called her name. She looked back in terror and ran without paying attention. The flower wasn’t in her line of sight but it’s unforgettable scent had entered her nostrils. The pain begun, her eyes glowing. She tried to move in the opposite direction of the scent, fighting the pain that was slowly consuming her body. The pain started to fade away, her eyes returning to their normal, more human amber colour.

The voices grew louder, worry starting to overcome the brown haired woman’s expression. Figures began closing in on her, surrounding her, calling her name. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breaths coming in fast. Pushing her body forward she managed to slip passed a few trees that lead to a thicker part of the forest. The villagers continued to call out her name. They approached but the darkness of the woods slowed them down. She continued to run until the sounds of the villagers were distant. Stopping she looked around. Dropping to the ground she cried in her hands.

What was left of her clothes had turned from a pure white to a dirty stained brown and grey. She removed her torn gloves and tossed them aside. Her face was streaked with dirt as she wiped away the tears. Her crying grew more violent, tears flowing down her face. Her body trembled as she looked down at her blood stained hands. How had it happened? Why her? What was the reason behind this? She had killed…not just anyone, Gaston her love, the person that mattered most to her.

What had she ever done to deserve such a curse, Belle had always been kind, never wishing harm upon anyone. Now it was as if all eyes were on her, the lingering feeling of someone constantly watching, as if they knew what she had done…