The sun still rises. 293 days trapped in this tower and the sun still rises. My mother used to tell me that someday my prince would come. I'm not even sure if I want him to, considering it was my mother's prince who put me here.
296 days since my mother died. She fell off a horse and broke her neck, or so the clerics said. There was nothing they could do for her. I had to be seen at her funeral, but as soon as it was done, he locked me away.
The first few weeks were the worst. I didn't know what he meant to do with me, feared he would have me killed as I feared he had my mother. Once enough time passed, I knew I was just going to be stuck here.
They give me food and water. Good food and fresh water at that. It is clear they don't mean to kill me. I think they are keeping me to be married. I'm nearly 17, so it must be coming soon. I wondered if he meant to marry me himself, and was just waiting for enough time to pass since my mother's death, but the mourning period is long past now, so I must be intended for another.
I never liked him that much even before. I don't know why the realm still cheers for him. I hear them sometimes, from way up here. He has had a tourney just a few weeks passed, probably to symbolize that he is officially out of mourning. I was not in attendance of course. He probably figured it was still close enough to mother's death that it could be said I was still in mourning even if her husband was not. After all, we women are a weak sex and cannot recover from grief so quickly as our male counterparts.
293 days. I keep count carefully to keep myself from going crazy. I try to hope that there will be a prince yet for me, a true, good prince, but it seems unlikely. The realm has forgotten me, and never cared all that much about me even when they remembered me. It was my mother they had loved, and then the prince she married. They never loved me and they had completely forgotten my father even existed long ago.
I am a princess, but I don't feel like one. Of course, I've never met another princess so I never know what I ought to feel like. My mother was already a queen when I was born and I have no other siblings. It really is surprising that I am still alive. Maybe I am not entirely forgotten even now.
Or maybe I am still alive because I am forgotten. Maybe I only live because this great king told the servants to bring me food and water every day and never told them to stop. Either way it doesn't matter. I just sit here and watch the sun rise out of one window and set out of the other. Anything else is meaningless. I wish I weren't a princess.
Is there a point to all of this? No, not really. I write my thoughts only to keep myself sane. I have no requests or wisdom to share or anything like that. I don't know if anyone will ever even find this diary. I certainly hope the king does not, at least not while I still live. I suppose I do want someone to know the truth: that I am still here, and I am still the princess, even if it is hundreds of years and my name is long forgotten before they realize it. I am a princess and someday, my mother promised me, my prince will come.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
Redemption
Sometimes I still have the dreams. Even after five years, sometimes I still see it while I'm sleeping, the face of the life we took. When that happens, I open my eyes and I tell myself that it was wrong, but there's nothing I can do now to change it. All I can do is try to make other things right. And at least these dreams that I dream now aren't real.
It was hard not to blame myself, and even knowing that I wasn't the only one to blame didn't make it any easier. After all, I was the only one who realized what we were doing in time that I could have stopped it. It took time to realize, but now I know that even as horrible as what we did, what I did, was, there was something to be gained from it. That creature, that good, pure guardian, did not die in vain.
Telling the others what I knew helped. It wasn't something I could keep bottled inside. It was strange to think that I was the only one who knew, truly knew, the fullness of what we had done, that knew for a fact that we had destroyed something good. I don't know what they really thought about what I told them. One didn't seem to care, another was quiet as always, the third really seemed to take it to heart. I thought I knew and loved him once, but time changes good feelings as well as bad.
Whatever they've done with their knowledge, I've done my best to find redemption. What I've realized recently is that I never truly will find it, but still I try to do what's right. That's why I volunteer at the animal shelter and why I help coach soccer for the elementary school kids. That's why I give all I can on the field and even more when the game is over. That's why I talk to the kids and try to help them. That's why I'm going to be a teacher one day.
I know I won't fix everything, and things still would have been better if we hadn't made the mistake we did, but that's really all it was: a mistake. Saying anything more or less isn't going to fix it; nothing will bring him back. I have to live with what I did, but he wouldn't want me to do anything else. I know that it, he, whatever would want me to keep living. That was his whole purpose: to see that I and the others kept living. I won't destroy him yet again by denying him that.
And so I live. Sometimes I'm still haunted. We all have our demons, and though I don't know of anyone, aside from the other three, who have as strange and unique a story as ours, we all have our demons still. The one thing I don't do is confess to anyone else that it was real. I know they'd think I was crazy, but knowing that those who went through it with me know it was real is enough. Just having one other person to talk to, not to mention three, makes a world of difference.
And so it is. I tell the kids the same thing I tell myself: we all mess up and we all do bad things. It doesn't do any good to dwell on it. Say you're sorry and try to do better next time, and I mean really try. And remember when someone does something mean to you, that they mess up too, just like you do. Forgive and don't hold it against them.
I know that if he could forgive me, he would. All I saw in his eyes at the end was pain and sadness, but I like to think that if he could look into me again, I'd see pride in his eyes instead. I try to do what's right by him, and I will. In my own way, I have become the next guardian.
-Amanda
It was hard not to blame myself, and even knowing that I wasn't the only one to blame didn't make it any easier. After all, I was the only one who realized what we were doing in time that I could have stopped it. It took time to realize, but now I know that even as horrible as what we did, what I did, was, there was something to be gained from it. That creature, that good, pure guardian, did not die in vain.
Telling the others what I knew helped. It wasn't something I could keep bottled inside. It was strange to think that I was the only one who knew, truly knew, the fullness of what we had done, that knew for a fact that we had destroyed something good. I don't know what they really thought about what I told them. One didn't seem to care, another was quiet as always, the third really seemed to take it to heart. I thought I knew and loved him once, but time changes good feelings as well as bad.
Whatever they've done with their knowledge, I've done my best to find redemption. What I've realized recently is that I never truly will find it, but still I try to do what's right. That's why I volunteer at the animal shelter and why I help coach soccer for the elementary school kids. That's why I give all I can on the field and even more when the game is over. That's why I talk to the kids and try to help them. That's why I'm going to be a teacher one day.
I know I won't fix everything, and things still would have been better if we hadn't made the mistake we did, but that's really all it was: a mistake. Saying anything more or less isn't going to fix it; nothing will bring him back. I have to live with what I did, but he wouldn't want me to do anything else. I know that it, he, whatever would want me to keep living. That was his whole purpose: to see that I and the others kept living. I won't destroy him yet again by denying him that.
And so I live. Sometimes I'm still haunted. We all have our demons, and though I don't know of anyone, aside from the other three, who have as strange and unique a story as ours, we all have our demons still. The one thing I don't do is confess to anyone else that it was real. I know they'd think I was crazy, but knowing that those who went through it with me know it was real is enough. Just having one other person to talk to, not to mention three, makes a world of difference.
And so it is. I tell the kids the same thing I tell myself: we all mess up and we all do bad things. It doesn't do any good to dwell on it. Say you're sorry and try to do better next time, and I mean really try. And remember when someone does something mean to you, that they mess up too, just like you do. Forgive and don't hold it against them.
I know that if he could forgive me, he would. All I saw in his eyes at the end was pain and sadness, but I like to think that if he could look into me again, I'd see pride in his eyes instead. I try to do what's right by him, and I will. In my own way, I have become the next guardian.
-Amanda
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Guilt
Five years and it haunts me still. I can't escape it, the look in its eyes. No, not its eyes, his eyes. That wasn't just a thing, it was a guardian, a protector, and it was truly good despite its hideous appearance.
The look of it was what helped us convince ourselves we couldn't have known, but I knew. Not right away, but before the end, I knew it was wrong, that we were killing something good. Even though I didn't inflict the final blow, my silence killed him all the same.
We also told each other that it was a dream, that it wasn't real. We tried to believe the thing, he, never even existed. I know better. As surely as I know he was good, I know that we murdered him in the truest sense of the word.
It was real, but because it seemed so unreal, I could never make it right. There was no one to apologize to and no one to confess to. I couldn't tell the others. I didn't want to drag them down into this pit with me. They should live and love and rejoice in what I hope is true ignorance. Only I can ever know the truth.
I know it's real in part because it's happening again. We thought we had won, but somehow, she's come back. I've heard the stories. Kids disappearing from their beds or just never waking up. Some are still alive, in a coma. Maybe for them, there is hope. Maybe I can still save them, and whoever is yet to be taken, too.
I've tried to get back before. I tried what got us there before, but it didn't work. I've consulted mediums and others, but I never dared tell them the full story. Maybe that is why they failed, too. I can't think of any other way than this. This is my last hope.
There is no guardian left. She is just picking them off; they have no chance. They can't see the look of pain and longing in its eyes that tells them not to trust her. They don't even have a clue, and if any had succeeded like we had, it wouldn't be happening still, not so soon.
I want you to know that none of this is your fault. It was all about this, this pivotal moment in my life at that house five years ago. That was the reason I never became the soccer star I could have been. That was the reason I refused to get a cat. That was the reason I won't let you kill any spiders anymore. It was never about you. I love you.
I want you to know that this is not a suicide. I pray to God and whoever else might listen that this won't actually kill me, at least not fully. I just need to go to sleep for a very long time. There is no protector. It is my fault there is no protector. I know what I have to do.
If I find a way to communicate with you once I'm on the other side, I will. If I can't find a way, I want you to know that I love you and that I'm finally trying to do what's right. Please, don't try to understand what I'm talking about. Please, if I do just slip into a coma, don't try to bring me out. I'm doing this for the others, for the ones that are worth saving. I'm doing this because I know in my heart that it is right and that there is no one else who can do it but me. It's not a god-complex, it's just the truth.
You can cry if you want to; I'd understand. I know I didn't cry enough. This is good-bye, Mother. You will say I was young, but they are even younger, and they deserve it less than I do. If the mysterious deaths and disappearances stop, you'll know I've succeeded, and if not, you'll know that I tried. I will always be your daughter, and I will always love you, no matter what happens next.
Goodbye.
Amanda
The look of it was what helped us convince ourselves we couldn't have known, but I knew. Not right away, but before the end, I knew it was wrong, that we were killing something good. Even though I didn't inflict the final blow, my silence killed him all the same.
We also told each other that it was a dream, that it wasn't real. We tried to believe the thing, he, never even existed. I know better. As surely as I know he was good, I know that we murdered him in the truest sense of the word.
It was real, but because it seemed so unreal, I could never make it right. There was no one to apologize to and no one to confess to. I couldn't tell the others. I didn't want to drag them down into this pit with me. They should live and love and rejoice in what I hope is true ignorance. Only I can ever know the truth.
I know it's real in part because it's happening again. We thought we had won, but somehow, she's come back. I've heard the stories. Kids disappearing from their beds or just never waking up. Some are still alive, in a coma. Maybe for them, there is hope. Maybe I can still save them, and whoever is yet to be taken, too.
I've tried to get back before. I tried what got us there before, but it didn't work. I've consulted mediums and others, but I never dared tell them the full story. Maybe that is why they failed, too. I can't think of any other way than this. This is my last hope.
There is no guardian left. She is just picking them off; they have no chance. They can't see the look of pain and longing in its eyes that tells them not to trust her. They don't even have a clue, and if any had succeeded like we had, it wouldn't be happening still, not so soon.
I want you to know that none of this is your fault. It was all about this, this pivotal moment in my life at that house five years ago. That was the reason I never became the soccer star I could have been. That was the reason I refused to get a cat. That was the reason I won't let you kill any spiders anymore. It was never about you. I love you.
I want you to know that this is not a suicide. I pray to God and whoever else might listen that this won't actually kill me, at least not fully. I just need to go to sleep for a very long time. There is no protector. It is my fault there is no protector. I know what I have to do.
If I find a way to communicate with you once I'm on the other side, I will. If I can't find a way, I want you to know that I love you and that I'm finally trying to do what's right. Please, don't try to understand what I'm talking about. Please, if I do just slip into a coma, don't try to bring me out. I'm doing this for the others, for the ones that are worth saving. I'm doing this because I know in my heart that it is right and that there is no one else who can do it but me. It's not a god-complex, it's just the truth.
You can cry if you want to; I'd understand. I know I didn't cry enough. This is good-bye, Mother. You will say I was young, but they are even younger, and they deserve it less than I do. If the mysterious deaths and disappearances stop, you'll know I've succeeded, and if not, you'll know that I tried. I will always be your daughter, and I will always love you, no matter what happens next.
Goodbye.
Amanda
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