Nearly every child has a favourite fairy tale, a character they are drawn to, sometimes out of admiration and other times in fear. Although I positively adored Cinderella, relished in her beautiful melodies and innocent heart, I could not deny my attraction to a rather scary, wicked creature known as Maleficent.
While others dreamed of being Princess Aurora, of dancing through forests and rescued by Prince Phillip; I fantasized about adorning deep crimson lip paint all while feeling the weight of a thick, black shiny cape.
There was something provocatively sinister about this statuesque figure and although she appeared in human form I was not surprised, even as a child, when she transformed into the beastly dragon. In my deviant, child like mind I had always suspected her distorted beauty was due to the fact that she was never a person, she merely took that shape in order to manipulate those she wished to convert.
Maleficent was not ugly nor was she beautiful. Her face was exaggerated in harsh, unforgiving angles and her eyes large yet menacing like a cat. She was tall and lean and her hands although graceful resembled claws more than fingers. Everything about her had an air of sultry femininity. However, if you listened carefully, if you watched as she slithered down staircases and across hallowed halls you would see she was no more a woman than the devil himself.
An evil yet oddly charming entity, I was not the only one drawn to her charismatic ways. Still as certain as I was that she would do harm to Aurora I could not help but smile whenever she appeared on the screen. Something about her resonated within me and it was only years later that I understand the connection.
For as long as I can remember I have felt at odds with myself. Although outwardly I portrayed that of a girl who was polite, demure, sweet and most assuredly innocent, deep within my core there has always lingered something darker, something wickedly perverse. My exterior of pink sundresses, softly curled locks and freckle peppered skin was a mask for the something far more deviant. This is not to say that I do not enjoy pink and the feminine whimsy it brings; however, that is not the bulk of who I am. On the contrary. In truth my core is riddled with menace and depravity and it is only now that I am welcoming this part of who I am.
Evil lurks in many shadows, even ones filtered by the sun.