This is probably a bit random, but we've just started studying 'The Bloody Chamber' by Angela Carter for my A2 English Course, and today my English teacher set us a task on the short story called 'The Snow Child', to rewrite it, or write a new story loosely based on it, giving a greater feminist message (tying in with my English coursework which is commenting on feminism in regards to the poems 'Cousin Kate' and 'Goblin Market'). Anyway, this is what I wrote in the fifteen minutes, and I quite like it, so I thought I'd put it up and see what you think. It's a twisted fairytale.

I should probably warn you though, the original text by Angela Carter might be a bit... controversial. I don't think the following is though :P

Oh, and it's meant to be a gothic fairytale. Sortoff.

MIDWINTER – INVICIBLE, IMMACULATE. A woman and her husband go riding, The Countess and the Count, he's on a grey mare and she's on a black one. Fresh snow has fallen in the night and left a white blanket embracing the land.

"I wish I had a daughter as white as snow", the Countess announced suddenly, looking over the crisp white morning with longing.

They continued on their journey, and came across a lone rose, a red rose, enchantingly vibrant in a dead winter world.

"I wish I had a daughter as white as snow and as red as this rose!" She said to her husband with longing.

Again they carried on, and happened across a glossy raven, perched upon the lowest branch and watching them with knowing eyes.

"I wish I had a daughter as white as snow, as red as the Winter Rose, and as black as the feather on this noble raven!"

They rode on, and turning the corner there she stood beside the road, white skin, red mouth, black hair, and a smile on her face as she looked up at them. The Countess fell in love with the child on sight, this was the daughter of her heart… and the Count hated her.

He watched with plotting, beady eyes as the Countess sat the child before her on the saddle and had only one thought: how shall I be rid of her?

The Count threw down his gauntlet, as if issuing a challenge, and bade the child pick it up, meaning to gallop off and leave the child there. But the Countess bristled and said, "You have two feet, don't you?" and so the Count reluctantly dismounted.

Again they began riding, until the Count, on spying a frozen pond, entreated his wife for her diamond brooch only to throw it instantly through the ice. He then demanded the girl fetch the brooch, believing she would drown.

"She is beautiful without the brooch and all the lovelier for it." The girl insisted, to which the Countess agreed wholeheartedly.

"I have no need for such trinkets," she declared tearfully. "You are far more precious to me." And she named the girl Treasure.

Furious, and drawing ever closer to the Castle, the Count racked his brains to think of a way to rid his wife of the girl she had become so attached to. He then spotted the rose, the lone rose, the winter rose, which they had passed by previously on their journey, and smiled wickedly.

"Dearest daughter", he said to the girl with a flourish, "Fetch for me this Winter Rose! I wish to give it to your Lady Mother!"

The Countess was suspicious of her husband, but the girl was seemingly oblivious to the Man's dark thoughts.

"Very well, I will fetch it for you."

She leaped down gracefully from the saddle, and plucked the rose from the white Earth. With an innocent smile, she handed it to the Count, who tried to hide his disappointment. Never one to lose face, he accepted the rose, pricked his finger on the thorn, bled, screamed, and fell.

The girl, Treasure, chuckled.

"It bites!"