Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Prompt from Twitterlit: "As she lay trembling in the damp grass she realized growing up was not an option for her"


She always thought she would be one of the beautiful people. She had been born with the right lineage. Where she went, security and paparazzi went – always. From the very youngest of age, people rose when she walked in the room. At 17 she holidayed with the Princes of Wales in the Alps. The young Princesses of Monaco sent their jet for her so she could join them for New Year’s. She was going to be one of those young royals that everyone shook their heads about. She had plans to date actors, be careless, spend too much money, drive too fast.
But as she lay trembling in the damp grass, under a clump of trees, below a dark moonless sky, praying that whoever had done this had gone, while her home burned to the ground, she realized growing up was not an option for her. Terror had come to her little country. She was uncertain if her parents were still alive, she had heard gun shots down the hall. She had locked her door. Shut the lights. Climbed out the window and run to this spot. She had heard the explosion and seen the flames go shooting through the roofs.
She was afraid, more afraid than she had been in her whole life. She didn’t know who had done this, who to trust. So she stayed there. She wasn’t certain what time it was but she was certain morning was still a long way off. She heard the sound of the fire trucks. Once they were on the scene she would reveal herself. She would be careful who she trusted.
She suddenly felt the weight of it all and wished that it could all go back to what it had been just a few short hours ago as her parents lectured her about her duty to her country, her responsibility as a royal. A few short hours ago as she planned a trip to New York with the daughter of the Prince of Brunei.
Everything, everything was different. If her parents were dead she would be the reigning monarch and though most of the governing was done by her parliament – funny that – her parliament. She would have great burden and responsibility to call her nation – hers – to fight against all those who would try to bring anarchy to the order that had held this country together for centuries.

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