The Opposite of Evil

I s'pose you want the whole truth, considering that you've dragged me in here with no word of an explanation. No general courtesy offer of a drink or a warm cup of something. There's frost on the floor out, but you don't see fit to offer me anything. Instead, you shove me in this dank room with small windows and two burly frowning men and demand I talk.

I'll talk.

Gretel was nice, if not dull. But Hanzel was an ass. He was rude, his snub nose somehow turning further up when he saw me. He stood tall with the authority of someone who had never faced a challenge. He spoke with a confidence which didn't reflect his blockheaded words. Plus, his voice was asinine.

Don't scoff.

The stories will never tell you the truth about those two. Instead, they tell you about the two innocent children who stumbled upon 'evil' and defeated it. Problem with that is, you can't stumble upon something evil if you go knocking at its door. And that's what they did!

I won't bore you with the trope of injustice. Yes, I did wrong. That's why I am here. But your question should really be, did it for the right reasons?

But we'll get to that.

The two arrived at my door one evening. It was Spring or it could have been Winter, honestly, I don't know. If you want to hear poetic storytelling then visit Snow White, you know her well, right? The Face of the Future, that's what they call her. Well, she's always one for figments and fancies that stray from the truth. I am not. Oh, yes do put that on record, she's a foolish girl. Could I possibly get some water at least, the air is terribly thick in here and my throat-. No? Right.

Anyway, where was I? The two children spoke with a well-rehearsed urgency. They stood at my door, slightly grubby fingers pulling at parts of the fondant awning and asked for my help. They were lost, looking for their dog. In hindsight, there was no dog. You probably think me an idiot for not seeing that. But they were only children. Rosy cheeks glowing from the cold air, and that vacant expression only the young have. I let them in, made them tea. You might not believe it, you lot seem to judge quicker than you think, but I wanted to help. They worked together to pick and nibble at my home while my back was turned.

What's that? Well, yes, I s'pose. I do see the irony of a house made of sugar. But when I built it I did not have two savvy, greedy juveniles in mind. I live in the depths of Mardon Forrest with nothing but my own thoughts for company. Why should I have considered it? That would have been peculiar. No, those naive nitwits saw an opportunity and stole it. A lot of it.

Now, what would you have done? If they had begun to devour your home with no resemblance of shame? Ask them to leave? Oh, I did. But then there was Hanzel, showing his true ignorance. Gretel grimacing with embarrassment at her brother's idiocy.
"This house is ours. You are in our Kingdom, under the rule of our Father and we own you." he had spat at me in reply.

It's preposterous, is it not? No? Well, it left me with an eye-rolling frustration. By that logic, they own the trees and sky and air. Fools. Anyway.

Yes, I was angry. And yes, when Gretel whispered the idea of mutiny as she tied me to the chair, I agreed. Don't be so shocked! Could you imagine being alongside that boy every day of your life? At one point he spat at her when she picked the wrong knife, vile little thing tyke. He stomped about my house, crushing and devouring while Gretel remained detached. So, with her help, I poisoned him and cut him into little pieces. I imagine that's all you wanted to hear, what we did wrong. But not much wrong was done, not really. It was very justified, as you can see.

Yes, of course, details. We slipped the poison, what I often use for the plants, into his coca. Then we used the axe from the garden to chop him up. A big boy he was, underneath those frilly clothes.

Gretel didn't much mind the mess. I have a feeling she was considering him going in much the same. She twitched a look of disdain when I removed the head. But was soon hacking away with frivolity. I imagine he had done far worse to her over the years.

After that? Oh, there was no after. We didn't live a life of happiness, Gretel and I. Do not misunderstand. We were not friends. I simply saw her in a way others didn't; a trapped little frog.

What was that? Oh. Last I saw her, she was skipping off into the distance. A red cloak across her shoulders and blood across her lips. She had insisted on devouring at least a small chunk of her brother. The two were greedy, that much is true.

Well no, that is it. Hanzel? He's in the garden, feel free to go and have a look. I imagine you already have. You detective types are very thorough. Tell me this, before you go, with your judgemental eyes and preconceptions, would you have done anything differently?