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Regina glances around her office before slipping the small key from her pocket and opening the desk drawer. From the back of the drawer, she pulls out a leather journal, worn and battered even in its disuse. She sighs heavily and reaches for a pen before opening the book to the first page. For several seconds, Regina stares at the blank page, a battle waging inside her until she finally puts pen to page and begins to write.
The Cricket has asked me to keep a journal, to put into words my emotions and my fears. We both know that I know that he knows exactly how much this frightens me, but we don't speak of it. It remains a silent understanding between us. Should these writings fall into the wrong hands, I would be laid open and vulnerable before the holder of this knowledge. I also know that the Cricket is correct. I cannot continue as I am, nor can I change, without letting this out. It is not one way or another, it simply is what must happen.
I stand in the middle, between my mother and my son. I am the one who can change everything. I can either continue this vicious cycle of torment and abuse that I lived through and risk losing my son, my little prince, or I can end it by refusing to be like my mother, by redeeming myself and showing my son that I can be a better person. I may never be a White Knight, a savior like Emma Swan, or a perpetually sweet do-gooder like Snow White, but I can be better. I can be something other than evil. I can find a way to break free from this cycle of black and white thinking, to find the shades of gray that lay in between.
And yet...I'm teetering dangerously close to the edge, so close to being like Cora that I can feel it creeping into me, starting at my fingertips and moving through my veins. There are days that if I stare into the mirror long enough, I can see my reflection become her reflection staring back at me. Those are the days when I am most frightened of what I might become.
Even as I don't want to be near her myself, or let her near Henry, I find myself regressing to that little girl, the one who only wanted her mother's approval and love. When I realized she's here in Storybrooke, I felt that kernel of hope start to grow and blossom in my heart, because maybe this time will be different. Maybe this will be the time when she tells me I am perfect just as I am, that she loves me. Then I realize she's so close, dangerously close, and I sit here shuddering at the thought of her near my son. I fear what she might do to him, if she has the chance to be near him.
Why do I let myself do this? Why do I risk the life and safety of the one I love the most so that I can have the approval of the one I love but hate the most? Why do I give her this power over me? And how do I break the hold she has on me? I know I'd wished her dead many times over in Fairy Tale Land. I'd even gone so far as to send her to a different realm. But now she is here, and I am in the middle between my mother and my son.
I've come full circle to how I started this entry, and now I have to decide. How will this story end? Will Henry become another casualty in the never-ending battle between the forces of good and evil, or will he inadvertently be the one that helps me find redemption?
Regina drops the pen and slams the book shut, shoving it to the back of the drawer. She rests her head in her hands and lets the silent sobs wrack her body. She feels the siren's pull of her mother battling with what her heart and conscience are telling her to do. And all she wants in that moment is to hear her son whisper he loves her. That would give her all the power she needs.