After my father’s funeral, my stepmother pulled me into the woods. She turned to her new boyfriend and whispered, “No one comes here. Anything could happen.”

When Mary was a little girl, she believed that life would be like the fairy tales her mother used to read to her. At night, before bed, her mom would open a book filled with magical stories about princesses, kind fairies, and happy endings. Mary loved those stories so much that when she learned how to read, she continued on her own, waiting for the day when her own life would feel like one of those magical tales.

But what she did not know then was that dreams sometimes come true in the wrong way. Her fairy tale began, but instead of being beautiful, it was frightening.

It all started when her real mother died. For Mary, it felt impossible to understand. How could her mom just disappear from her life? One day her mother was there, cooking breakfast, laughing with her, cuddling her in bed, and the next day she was gone forever. Mary couldn’t make sense of it. She even told herself that maybe her mom hadn’t really died—that maybe she had been cursed by some evil witch and had fallen into a deep magical sleep.

When she asked her father to “wake up” her mother like in the fairy tales, he only cried. That was when Mary realized it was real.

About a year later, another woman appeared in their home. Mary’s father introduced her as “Aunt Emily.”

“She will be your new mom,” her father said gently, trying to smile.

Mary shook her head. “No. I don’t need a new mom.”

“Of course you do,” her father insisted. “Emily is kind, she works with children, she’s a teacher. You’ll like her.”

Mary stepped back. “I don’t want her. I only want my real mom.”

Her father grew angry. For the first time in her life, he slapped Mary across the face. The slap didn’t hurt physically, but it broke her heart. She felt betrayed. That same evening, Emily told her coldly, “You’ll only get food if you call me ‘Mom.’” That night, Mary cried herself to sleep, hungry.

From that moment, Emily—the woman who became her stepmother—took full control of the house. Mary’s life changed completely.

Just like in the fairy tales she once loved, Mary became the poor stepdaughter, and Emily was the cruel stepmother.

Then her father got sick. He grew weaker each day. Mary often sat by his bed, holding his hand, while Emily stood nearby with fake kindness in her eyes.

One day, her father admitted softly, “I don’t think I’ll be here much longer. I thought I could live without your mother, but I was wrong. Forgive me, Emily. My heart still belongs to her.”

Mary knew Emily didn’t care. She pretended to cry, but her heart was already planning something else. Soon after, Mary’s father passed away.

The money and inheritance were left to Mary, since she was his daughter. Emily, however, became her guardian, which meant she had control over Mary’s funds. At first, she stole from Mary little by little, but before long, she stopped hiding it. She lived in comfort, spending the money freely, while Mary had nothing left for herself.

Less than half a year later, Emily found a new man. He was younger, arrogant, and full of himself. Together they lived off Mary’s money.

Mary’s life became darker. She avoided people, she skipped school trips because she had no money, and she kept quiet about the suffering inside her house. She was only twelve years old, yet already she carried a weight too heavy for a child.

Things became unbearable when Emily started to believe that her new husband was paying too much attention to Mary. Jealousy consumed her. She screamed at the girl, hit her, and once even pressed a hot frying pan against her arm. The burn left a permanent scar.

But the worst moment came when Emily, blinded by rage, dragged Mary to the seventh-floor balcony and held her over the railing. Just one push, and Mary would have fallen to her death. Mary screamed with all her strength, but the sound ripped her throat so badly that no words came out after that. Her voice disappeared completely.

That night, hiding under her blanket, Mary overheard Emily and her boyfriend arguing.

“What have you done?” the man shouted. “Now she’ll go to the police! We’ll lose the money and end up in jail!”

“She won’t go anywhere,” Emily answered coldly. “I’ll take care of it.”

“And what exactly will you do?”

“I’ll take her to the countryside, to my grandmother’s. It’s far away, near a swamp. Nobody will ever find her. Anything can happen there.”

Mary’s heart beat so loudly that she thought they might hear it through the walls. She realized that Emily was planning to kill her. But how could she tell anyone? She had no voice.

The next morning, Emily forced Mary into the car. They drove for hours through empty roads until they reached a desolate area. Mary pretended she needed to use the bathroom. Emily rolled her eyes and waved her hand toward the bushes.

“Fine, go. But hurry up.”

Mary slipped into the thick forest. The moment she was out of sight, she ran. Branches tore at her clothes, but she didn’t stop. She ran as if her life depended on it—because it did.

“You won’t escape!” Emily screamed behind her. But after a while, her voice faded. Emily stood near the swamp, glaring at the trees. “This is where your story ends,” she muttered before walking back to the car and driving away, leaving Mary alone.

Mary stumbled deeper into the forest, terrified and exhausted. She didn’t know where to go, and at some point, she collapsed onto a patch of moss. When she opened her eyes again, she was lying in the middle of a swamp, sinking slowly. Panic filled her chest. She tried to crawl, but the mud sucked her down.

Just when she thought it was over, she saw glowing eyes in the distance. At first, she thought it was a wolf. But when the creature came closer, she realized it was half-wolf, half-dog. It pulled at her jacket with its teeth, dragging her out of the swamp. Mary clung to its thick fur, and together they managed to reach dry land.

The animal stayed by her side, guarding her. When she finally gathered her strength, it led her through the forest to a small hut.

A tall, bearded man opened the door. “What do we have here?” he said, staring at Mary in surprise. “Did Lei bring you out of the swamp?”

Mary pointed to her throat and shook her head to show she couldn’t speak.

“Mute, huh?” the man muttered. “Alright, come inside. You’re safe now.”

The hut was warm, filled with the smell of herbs. Mary quickly learned the man’s name was Kevin. He was a forest ranger who lived alone with Lei, the wolf-dog who had saved her.

Mary scribbled her story on a piece of paper. Kevin read it, whistled, and said, “That stepmother of yours is pure evil. Don’t worry, you’re safe here.”

For the first time in years, Mary felt a spark of hope.

Kevin took care of her, gave her food, and promised to find a way to help her. He decided to bring her to an old friend—Granny Karen, a healer who lived in a nearby village. Granny Karen was known to cure not only sicknesses but also wounds of the heart.

When Karen saw Mary, she said, “This child has suffered more than most adults. We’ll try to bring back her voice.”

Every day, Karen took Mary to a river she called “living water.” Slowly, with each visit, Mary’s voice began to return. At first, only hoarse whispers came out. Then single words. Then, one day, she managed to say clearly, “I am Mary.”

Karen smiled warmly. “Good girl. Your story isn’t over yet.”

In time, Mary grew stronger. With Kevin and Karen by her side, she realized she was no longer alone. And soon, the law caught up with Emily. Thanks to Karen’s connections and Kevin’s testimony, child services intervened. Emily was stripped of her guardianship and punished for the abuse she had inflicted.

Mary, once a voiceless, frightened girl, now had people who truly cared for her. She started to believe in happy endings again—but this time, she knew they were not magic. They were built by courage, kindness, and the strength to survive.