PART ONE

Annie's Diary

 

What is love? Not that I knew at the time, mine heart was filled with great sorrowfulness. Mine heart was in tears and was distressed. What is love? Previously I have gotten my own understanding of this thing they call love. I had asked myself a thousand a time. I would look in the mirror at mine house and see myself just as I was.

 

 

But once at Patrick’s place of abode, it all changed. I looked into the mirror there and saw someone, from top to bottom, poles apart. Someone not the same, and noticeably not myself. Someone I didn’t like. I didn’t like that person. I still don’t like that person. But I like Patrick... And he does like me.

 

My name is Annie Heethare. I’m young still. My father, Russian. My mother, dead. Yet, I was born here, in London. My mother died giving birth to me. My father of forty has raised me until now when I make my own path. Thee hath now seen my intrinsic worth, and now it is time to use those virtues. My hair, long and golden, shines like the sun when it sets upon the hilltops. Like the sun in the morning I see, as I watch from my window, rise above the mountains. Greater and more powerful than any light could be. My arms are long, slender, and dark. From tan, from the powerful rays of the sun which I lounge under.

I’m tall like the tree, strong and proud, the way my King would want me to die. Anyone to die. Anyone in his Kingdom to die. And like the tree, my torso is also slender. My eyes are a shining blue. Never hath mine fathers’ eyes seen eyes so sweet. "Except when I looked at thy mother." He would say, forever and a day, referring to mine mother. My eyes, he also said, were like eyes shining with hope, even when afraid. Eyes like the blue of the sky, sky that goes on forever, as he hoped I would, and I him. But it was not so. A decree was sent across the land. A war was to take place, and the enemy was heard to be striking at dawn. The King set troops around the outside of our fair Kingdom. But they waited in vain. The troops came... Long before expected and killed almost all of our men. Including my father. I was alone, alone at the age of fourteen.

But luckily, the King and my father had been good acquaintances. When my mother had died, we lost all our possessions and dwelling along with her. The King had our abode specially made. My father had no work, so the King sent a few pounds of gold a month, which would see us through to the next.

The King allowed me to live with him, once my father died. I agreed. I shared a room with a maid named Maria. I like her a lot. She also knew the King’s son, Prince Patrick. Every time Maria said the name ‘Patrick’ I’d stand on my tiptoes and say, "Where art thou, Patrick?" and that would send Maria laughing away. Another war broke out and the fun stopped. I would eavesdrop during this time, and I still feel horrible for doing so, but I had heard Patrick begging his father to go to war so as to help his people.

"Father," he had said, "I must go! The people need me! I must show them that I will be a good King, like you." But his father merely shook his head and said, "No son of mine will be caught dead in battle. And that’s exactly what shall happen to thyself if thee sets one foot upon battlefield!" In the end, Patrick agreed with his father and I was glad.

The next day was when I found out he liked me. "I love you, Annie." He said softly in my ear after dinner, "And I know you were listening to mine father and I talk yesterday. So, thus you must know, you are worth fighting for." And he hugged me when no one was watching. I had never felt that feeling. I felt quite certain I knew, that I finally knew what love was. But yet again, I was wrong.

If I have not yet described Patrick, I shall do so now. His eyes are coal-black, but not an evil glow. More of a loving fondness. He has brown hair, like the color of a tree trunk. He is also long and slender, but hasn’t a tan like I. It makes sense, because being of royal blood he is not expected to do work outside of his castle like the rest of us. He’s got skin light, smooth, and creamy; like that of fresh milk from a cow. His face bears no resemblance of the pain or burden of the throne. No weight has yet been lifted down onto his shoulders. He hath not told me when he shall marry, but he has told his father and myself that he will marry me. I found that to be highly amusing and laughed, so he decided we should meet in front of the castle at midnight. I agreed.

I really am in love with Patrick. So handsome, so suave, so... Intelligent. Sophisticated and a real gentleman. But still, I did not know what love was exactly. Before I went to meet him, I went back to where my home used to be. I boarded a carriage there at the castle and when I reached the area I looked around. Nothing but a pile of rubble where a beautiful house once stood. I wiped a tear from my eye and got back in the carriage.

I wore a blue dress and beaded necklace around my neck. The Queen had let me have them as gifts, and I intended not to lose or damage them in any way. I waited by a bench until Patrick came. I took of my shoes and placed them on the marble bench before Patrick blindfolded me.

"Come with me, Sunshine Dust." He said softly in my ear, his voice sugary sweet.

I let him lead me. Next moment I heard the softness of low tide on the beach. He took the blindfold off and hugged me. I looked around. The ocean, right in front of me. Water as far as the eye could see! I’d never been to a beach before, never even set foot on a boat. To be quite honest, the thought of the ocean waves pummeling the side of a tiny ship scared me. Suddenly, I felt like a cat cornered in an alleyway by a bunch of spoiled boys with stones in hand. I became nervous and cautious of every move that I made. We were finally alone together... Alone... Together.

"Come, Sunshine Dust... Dance with me?" he said, though it sounded like a question. I nodded as he took my hand.

We danced along the water’s edge, and as we swayed to the rhythm of the music in our heads the water lapped at our feet. I looked at the water as we danced by. The moon was reflected on the water’s surface. I glanced up and saw the full moon above us, its light shining down on us, putting us in its unearthly glow. Patrick was wearing his best ballroom suit, the one with gold buttons. And then it happened.

I was going down for a dip and then back up again to curtsy in return for the dance, but instead of bowing he took me in his arms and held me close. I felt his lips touch mine as we kissed.

But yet, I pulled away. He stared at me and finally smiled. "Take thy leave." He said slowly. He pointed the way from which we came. I grinned sheepishly. "I will always love you... Annie." He said. I nodded and left. I heard him sigh before he walked off in the opposite direction.

I put mine shoes back on when I reached the bench. I sighed and looked back behind me, expecting to see the ocean with the moon reflected on its surface and a smiling face, Patrick, welcoming me back. But I did not, I did not...

I looked again before stepping into the carriage that waited for me by the dirt road. Still, nothing... Nothingness... Nothing. Still, I did not know why I had pulled away. I had liked it at first and welcomed it with open arms and open mouth. But then I realized what I was doing and pulled away. Maybe I had been hoping for still more. For, after all, I am a virgin. Had there been anyone around... And yet, it makes no sense, it would not have mattered. If someone had been there, then there would have been someone there to save me from mine foolish mistakes and myself.

Little did I know that that night together, would be our last. The war continued and Patrick again began to plead with his father to let him go to war. "Father, please! I insist, I..."

"The battlefield is no place for a prince." His father reprimanded, "Only in thy Kingdom art thou safe." Patrick did not agree to this statement, but nor did he make any effort to try to correct it. He told me many a time that he was going to battle, I would just laugh and he would scowl as he walked away.

The war still raged on and finally, after weeks of warning, he snuck into it. The entire Kingdom was invited, myself among them.

As I write this now, the room grows darker, the ink bottle slowly emptying. The room grows darker still as the candle is burning down, and my heart with it. My heart burns... Burns with pain for dear Patrick. But I must tell you that it is too late now, I cannot save him. Not now, not ever. Mine eyes grow weary as they itch with sadness, the tears begging to come out, the tears begging to come out. Tears wanting to be set free... But I continue writing.

Patrick lay inside the solid gold coffin, specially made for him. At the top was a window made of diamond that showed a distorted image of the fair Prince Patrick. I wiped a tear from my eye as they lowered the casket into the ground. Maria laid a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and pulled her toward me, holding her tightly. She tried to comfort me as I laid my head on her shoulder and sobbed. I shut my eyes tightly. Somehow the tears still managed to squeeze through. An image of an ocean, the moon reflected on its surface, was before my eyes. Then Patrick... The kiss... Then all went black and I felt myself caught back in the present.

No! I thought,

 

 

NO!

 

 

I wanted to go back... Back to the past. Not this... This nightmare... This curse. It couldn’t be real... It just couldn’t be! But yet it was, and the pain so real. Finally, I pulled away from Maria’s comforting arms and she walked away.

Patrick’s father approached me. "You know that you’re widowed, don’t you?" he asked suddenly. I shook my head. He raised an eyebrow at the look of shock on my face. That was impossible; I hadn’t even married yet! Let alone be courted.

"How is that so, dear King? I’ve never even been married!" and now I lowered my voice, "And I’m still a virgin."

But he laid a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it gently, "That may be truth, but I also have a credence that I must tell you."

"Yes?" I prompted. I couldn’t believe what my ears were hearing... I? A widow? Impossible.

"Your father and I met at a training camp for battle,"

"But King! You’ve not gone to battle...! Have you?" I asked, vexation written all over my face. He nodded and I gasped, "You can’t do that anymore! Not that thou no longer has thine son to take thy place on the throne!"

He smiled and said clearly, "You."

I stared at him. "What? Thou means...?"

"I mean; my son was to marry you. You were betrothed to my son, Patrick. Your father and I came up with the idea." And he left with that thought stuck freshly in my head. Patrick’s mother approached me and I shivered. Possibly more bad news?

"Annie? Annie girl, I do hope thou is all right?"

"I’m fine," I lied, sniffing.

She sighed. "He loved thy precious heart very much," She lifted my chin up so that my twinkling blue eyes could see her sparkling green ones, "I believe he did this for you." She patted me on the shoulder and left me alone with two horrible thoughts stuck in my head.

"Maria?" I said.

She said something to the cook, Jeremiah, whom she was comforting, and then turned to me. I beckoned her over and she walked toward me.

"Yes, Ann?" she asked softly, brushing my golden hair out of my face. She smiled when she saw the worried expression hidden behind the golden locks, "What’s the matter? Patrick died a hero – "

"He told me!" I said, exasperated, "He told me he was going and I didn’t listen! I thought he must be jesting, just playing some kind of jibe. But no, he really meant it... He really meant it...

"Pack my bags for tonight, Maria." I said in her ear softly as I left the funeral grounds, "Tonight I will ‘take my leave,’ as Patrick would say." And I left. Maria stood staring at me before she finally went back to Jeremiah.

 

Author's Note

Again, I beg you to keep in mind a large majority of this was written in my seventh grade year when I was twelve and thirteen years old. Reviews are still very much appreciated, however.