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.


I went to sleep that night with a feeling of accomplishment. Well of course I did, all one had to do was get a good look at what I did, and they would know I had a right to go to sleep happy.

And I was.

My life was stable for another while which was a blessing in itself. My life was as unstable as it gets, my father going off to fight battles all the time, my mum, how many stillborns has she had now? 23? God, I would hate to have so many. At least she had one lucky one, me.

-There were horses. Many of them. Their hooves pounded in the dust, grinding and turned and stomping and pounding until the dust rose from the ground in an angry rush of dust and wind. It rose to the riders, masking their faces. Their hands covered their faces in an attempt to shield their eyes from the dirt.

There was a stranded carriage in their path, and they stopped. They encircled it, one man got down from his horse and opened the carriage door.

There was nobody in the carriage.-

I woke up in a hurry. What had just happened. I looked around me, wondering if I were in my dream, but alas, I was in my own bed. Why I had, even for a moment, wanted to be in my dream befuddled me. That was a freakish dream.

I purposely forgot about the dream. Why think about it? It was just a dream. I smiled, feeling fresh after last night's bath. I went to my mirror and put my hair in a bun. I pulled down one part of my hair. I loved my hair styled like this in the morning. At any other time of day I couldn't stand it. Later I would most likely mess it up while doing-whatever. But for now, I had a pretty hair do.

I walked to the kitchen, where I usually had my breakfasts. I had breakfast, oatmeal. It tasted like dry, tough, bread ground to a dust.

"You've done your hair nicely." said the cook nicely. She knew that mornings were the safest time of day to talk to me. Not that sometimes it wasn't safe to talk to me, oh no. (That was me being sarcastic, if you hadn't noticed.)

"Thank you." I said cheerfully.

"Your welcome." she smiled. This was the only part of the day that she didn't yell at me. "So how do you like Lord Adrian?" she said as she stirred tonight's soup.

"Lord Adrian?" I asked. I had no idea who she was talking about. I had never even heard of this guy in my life.

"You know, that sweet young man who always hangs around those other men his age during balls." she said joyfully.

"That isn't very specific. What does he look like?" I asked.

"Um… Tall, blonde hair, blue eyes. You know. He's really a good-looking boy."

"Why?" I asked, all of a sudden suspicious. Why was she telling me that he was good looking? What was going on that I wasn't aware of?

"Well, you might enjoy staring at him at the next ball we're having instead of the sky." she said, still unaware of me becoming a shade more tense.

"When is the ball?" I asked, feigning the chirpiness. There was something terribly wrong. And wasn't Adrian a girl's name?

"A couple weeks time, but don't tell anyone I told you, I we were supposed to keep it secret…" Her hand flew to her head. Big mistake.

"PLEASE don't tell anyone where you heard that, okay?" she said, almost desperately. I looked at her strangely. It was not becoming to beg.

"Fine, fine, whatever." I said. This was pathetic. I got up from the table, 'forgetting' to put away my plate. I was pissed again, so, once again, I went to Gibson.

By then I had removed my beautiful bun in anger. Buns were only for when I was happy. "GIBSON!" I screeched.

Gibson was out in the front helping Ari feed her pigs. He blanched. It was probably because I looked angry. Of course, one cannot tell what one looks like unless one is looking in a mirror, so I could not tell you.

I felt like punching something. I had no idea what they wanted me for. It was something horrible, I just knew it. Were they going to send me out, or make me bed--ew! This Adrian fellow?

I wanted to punch the dirt bag, and the closest thing I had to him was Gibson, and I really wasn't keen on injuring the poor guy. I kicked the dirt and growled the foulest words I knew. I was in a faze sometimes described as seeing red. But I wasn't seeing red, oh no, I was seeing bloody crimson.

I needed to break something. "Gibson, give me a stick." he complied. I broke it in one crack.

Ari looked horrified. God forbid. I just rolled my eyes. I had never before noticed what a priss Ari was. If I thought about it, there had been signs, but I had never fully recognized them until this point.

I threw the stick on the ground in a final attempt to break something. "What is it?" asked Gibson cautiously.

"I don't know." I sighed, trying to breathe normally.

"That's so stupid, getting angry for no reason." said Ari, not knowing what the consequences of her words could be. Besides, she no doubt was still angry that she could no longer marry Gibson, after all, he was the village cutie.

"Do you have a better idea in your thick, empty skull?" I asked with venom. "If you do, please inform me of it."

"Yeah, I do." she said. "Just don't get mad. Now isn't that amazing?" she said with sarcasm.

"Dear lord." said Gibson, running his hands through his hair.

"I bet you couldn't handle being me." I said.

"Oh yeah. It would be so hard to be waited on hand and foot." she said with mock sympathy.

"As if! And if I were if would be none of your freaking business!" I yelled balling my fists.

"No need to get physical." she said as though she were reasoning with me, but I knew that underneath it all she was mocking me.

"Why not? Because you couldn't handle it!" I yelled.

"I bet your father wouldn't be too happy if he found you hurting a poor, innocent farm girl." she said with fake sweetness.

"You're hurting yourself you jerk!" I said as I lunged for her but Gibson stopped me just in time.

"Stop it Roletta." he said calmly.

There was no reason I had to listen to him, but he was the true voice of reason here. Ari smirked, but Gibson stopped her with a glare.

"You too, you oughtn't provoke her like that. It's immature." He shook his head and walked away.

In truth, it was he who was the winner of this fight.