~ * ~
Actually this story is originally composed by yours truly, residing by the conclusion of the famous single-hit Love Story by Taylor Swift, which I actually found out long ago that most of you are quite keen with its lyrics. So one night, while I was waiting for my sister to arrive, I kind of listened to Love Story on Myx, so it got me to a certain extent puzzled maybe, and interested me to write a story based on the song.
So actually, my story isn't about Romeo and Juliet, like in the song, but I find the song pertaining to different modern persons who could actually relate to Shakespeare's novel. I really don't fancy Love Story, but I like the lyrics. It made me… think. So, here we are: Love Story, the real story.
~ * ~
"Diane, darling, would you mind bringing me a cup of tea, dearest? Daddy's got a sore throat." My father said as he slouched back into his chair, slinking off until I heard him snore. I snuck back at the garden, ran there until I smashed into the glass door. I shook my head and opened it. The garden was beautiful as ever. It's Spring, and all of the flowers here are blooming. Blues, violets, daisies, roses… I sauntered to the path of rocks, admiring each step of its beauty until I reached roses. Perfect and mild at the top, bitter and unpleasant at the bottom. Just like me. I was recalled as 'the Rose' by my father and my mother when I was a child since I have such a creamy complexion, beauty over rises everything. My perfect face was adored by everyone in town, such mates tried to court me, but father refused.
Lair, my family's name, was royally familiarized all over the place. My ancient godfathers and godmothers were probably royalists, and now, people are defending us against the royal chair, daring us into renowned riches and power, we daresay refused and the government decided on giving us wealth of riches they afford—turning the town's former government of monarchy into principality. I know at the age of 12, I know these things. It is because I've been trained to know my family's history and the town's condition. You see, my mother passed away when I was three so I was left with my father. I have no sisters neither brothers, but my father raised me to who I am now, and now, they altered my name into Juliet.
"Diane!!!" my father screeched, very off-key and very sore, that's why after doing that he choked and gulped for the reason that of his scorching throat. I quickly dashed off to get him some tea, bowed before my father and ambled towards the garden again. For the second time being here this day, I was actually bored and sat down on the first stair of the porch. I sighed as I stooped my head to my knees. I closed my eyes and let the time fly. Time was flying and it felt like going through a time machine. I could only hear the sound of echoing birds and buzzing bees, and the sound bemused me. I then felt a hand touching my arm. I raised my head, swiped of the bangs on my face and looked at the boy. I daresay charming, who looked like he came out of some story book I've heard of. His clothes were perfectly made of wool, all sewed up neatly into swirls of royal curves, velvet woven cloth placed above it, and golden designs were perfectly knitted on top. I blinked at the sudden exquisiteness that hurt my eyes. Those perfect baby blue eyes were intently looking at my grey ones when he finally said, "Are you Juliet?"
That's when my flashback ended.
~ ** ~
I opened my eyes and I was 18 years old, with creamy white skin and golden hair pinned at the back and a gorgeous gown made of silk and satin, all paired up with sleeves freely hanging on my arms. I felt dizzy, so I held the table of red cloth over it, with different varieties of fruits and royal meals. When I was ready to face the world I live in now, and not the flashback that conquered my mind a while ago, I turned and saw chandeliers hanging below the ceiling, people in ballgowns and magnificent suits of fine fabric, and the party that everyone was preoccupied with. The sweet music that pleasantly adored me, and the dance floor with couples busy with their waltz. I smiled and turned around again. I took some drink, gracefully handled it onto my hand, and gently drank it with good manners my teacher taught me. One hand on the bottom of the cup, the other to its body.
"Juliet," I heard someone whisper behind me. I turned around to see my gorgeous prince from my flashback of young age, in present, manifested with matured growth and charming-ness was Nathaniel. He held my hand up high and kissed the back of my hand as he grazed his eyes onto mine, enjoying every moment of sweetness as they must. "Is Juliet going to agree of spending the night dancing with me?" Romeo said, in his velvet voice that invites me in. He towed me to the middle of the dance floor, swooped me into his arms, and began twirling me with his skillful steps. We got most of the audience's attention and most of them kept whispering in each other's ears, smiling like secrets were too good to be true.
"Let's go outside," he whispered in my ear as he swayed me to a stop, grasping my hand, towing me outside. The garden hasn't changed since the first time I met him, the stepping stones I hopped were still the same, and pebbles and sand all over the fountain was truly a sight that fancies almost all the visitors of the party. "Do you remember," he said, "the first time I met you here, when you were almost crying?" he chuckled. I had to laugh considering the fact that I wasn't crying, that I was just taking a nap. "I wasn't crying. I took a nap." Then all grew silent. Nothing but the fountain swooshing and pebbles swinging against the hard cement.
"You fascinate me, Juliet."
"You're too interesting for me, Romeo."
Then he swiped me into his arms and planted a gentle kiss on my lips. Now, I'm wondering if fairy tales do come true.