Trapped

If you were me

If you were my heart…

My soul…

You would know…

All I pray for…

But since it isn't so…

You don't have a clue.

I am me. That is all I am… no more, no less. I feel what I do and yet I do not. I am here, and yet I am not. I am here in a tower, sitting, waiting, as my heart falls to pieces. I am a princess, as I have been for years and years. So many have gone by now, I cannot keep track. I have not grown old and withered, even though I know I have been here for at least one hundred years… That is the curse of this place. This tower, so high in the sky… when I merely look down my head begins to feel woozy and the small dots that I have realized to be trees jump about in an odd manner.

I have spent my days in the tower reading, and I pour all I read into my jewel. The jewel of my soul that shall rest on the head of my descendants. There is so much knowledge resting in one green opal on that flimsy gold chain, that sometimes I fear the person of whom I give this to next will burst.

But if they learn to control it, they will have all my experience, all my plots and planning, my ideas for the kingdoms, real ideas with real mind sketches! I know exactly what it takes to be the perfect kingdom, but all I need is an heir…

Not that I will be able to get the man necessary. But to get a man… he would have to come to me, while I doubt anyone even knows I am up here. In the tall clouds. Alone. A large dragon guards this place, so any hope left for me is gone. Sometimes I wonder why I even put my heart into the opal, it gives me something to do, I guess, but the point is lost. As am I. Forever.

"Why do you act like this Roletta?" asked the scribe, infuriated.

"Why shouldn't I? I am a princess!" she yelled.

"Don't act this way!" begged the scribe once more. he knew that if he angered her any further she would get up and leave the room, of course, if that happened again he might find himself without a job sometime soon.

"It had nothing like this in the job description." he muttered. He looked up at the Princess, "What is it that you want me to do?" he asked her, he was almost pleading with her. "Why can't you just act like your mother, and her mother before her?"

"Because I am not my mother, nor am I anyone else!" she screeched. She ran out of the room steaming. It was apparent to all that saw her. She definetely was not what anyone wanted to see right now. She was actually quite a nice girl in her good moods, but something about her teachers, her parents and... well... most everybody really, ticked her off. Not that it took much to tick her off, mind you, but no one liked it when she did get ticked off. Unless that person happened to be extremely sadistic, actually.

No one even really knew what it was that set off that tyrade, that bomb. If one were to look carefully they would see what sort of comments did that to her. They were all in one genre, actually. Whenever someone said anything to her, or to anyone else about wanting her to act like all the other nobles and princesses that they knew, she would freak out.

Ever since she had been a little girl, Roletta had been told she had to act a certain way, look a certain way... and it really was not her nature to sit in the sidelines and watch things happen.

Long ago, her ancestor, the first queen of the country had been trapped in a tower. She had waited for thousands of years for some prince to rescue her, and in the end, (of course) some poor guy did. But what really annoyed Roletta was the fact that they expected no orginality, no personality with her. It wasn't right in her eyes.

Roletta's P.O.V.

I went to where I always do when I'm pissed. Lord Winder's farm. He, the kissup, lives right next to our home. He has ten farms, though, due to his 'loyalty' to the kingdom. I mean, suuure. That guy does nothing but sit on his butt all day.

But it's a good thing he lives so close, I mean, if he didn't, I would have never met Gibson! God forbid. He's always there, I mean when I get angry he calms me down and everything. With him there, I always have a shoulder to punch. And yell at. And all those other things that you feel like doing when you're mad.

"GIBSON!" I yelled. A tired looking woman glanced in my direction.

"If you're looking for Gibson you'll have to look in his home." she croaked. I shivered. A lot of these villagers haven't talked in years and years, since Lord William's speaking ban. I really have never been able to get over what an idiot that guy is.

I raised an eyebrow, Gibson was one of those goody-goody guys that's always coming around helping everyone in their chores, and doing his own. So this came as a surprise to me. He never went into his room. He was always up and about, so this was really surprising. However, I did know which one was his room, and where his home was. Once I had made him show it to me, in my wisdom.

I opened the door to their home without question. I did own everything here, didn't I? Well, basically, anyways. Everyone was under my command, so I may as well say that.

"GIBSON!" I yelled. "GIBSON! COME DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"

It took a while for me to get a response, so I stood there waiting as patiently as I could, which wasn't very mind you. "Okay." Gibson was being quieter than usual. I mean, he was usually much quieter than me, but not this quiet.

When he hadn't come down yet I yelled to him, "Do you want me to come up there?" I yelled once more. This time I didn't have the patience to wait. I stomped up the stairs in a fury and opened his door looking extremely irratated.

But what I saw made all my fury leave me. There was Gibson, sitting on his bed, eyes down and tear stains on his face. As soon as he saw me he tried to wipe them away, but I was quick. I had seen them.

"What happened?" I demanded. He took one look at me and started to cry again. This scared me. Why was he crying? He had no reason to cry!

I sat next to him on the bed and looked him in the eye. "What is going on?" he tried to move his head but I forced him to look at me. "What is happening that I don't know about?"

"It's none of your business." said Gibson sadly. I could tell he was trying to sound tough. He really wasn't. If Gibson was anything, it wasn't touhg.

"Gibson." I said sounding much like an annoying teacher.

"I'm getting married." he whispered.

"WHAT?" I yelled.

"I've been married off to Ari. You know, the girl with the blonde hair?" He said weekly.

"You can't marry her!" I said. I was shocked. Gibson was supposed to be single his whole life! I was the one that was supposed to get married.

"I'll talk to Lord William." He was the one who arranged all the marriges in his fief.

"No... Don't... IT was... It was my..." He couldn't seem to get it out. I looked at him impatiently. "Mother."

"Dear Lord." I said. His mother was an imovable creature. She had THE will of iron. It was absolutely ridiculous. A grin crept onto my face. I was the Princess, though, was I not?