Death of a Princess

February 27, 2012
By Anonymous

“Princess Tallulah! Are you ready?” My butler, Austen, asked.

“Yes Austen, I will be right down!” I replied, “I just need to adjust my gown. It will only take but a moment.

I smooth down the creases in my dress, my manicured hands catching on the beautiful sapphire jewels engraved into the gold streaked dress, specially designed by Austen. He is not only my butler, but my personal designer as well.

I step into the doorway, my silver shoes clinking on the floor. “You look magnificent,” he said as he held out his arm. “May I?”
“Yes, you may.” I hooked my arm into his as we walked down the spiral staircase. We continued walking down the stairs, and entered the enormous, beautiful foyer. The crystal chandelier hung low from the high ceiling. My turquoise horse-drawn carriage came up to the front door of the house. The chauffeur came out of the carriage in a black tuxedo as he held out a white gloved hand. I took it, and he helped me up into the carriage with Austen. The carriage man closed the door with door with a thud. He whipped the horses and the carriage started to stroll down the road.

We arrived at the mansion a few minutes later. As we walked into the house, I noticed that all the people were dressed impeccably well. All the men were in long-tailed tuxedos and the women in beautiful, flowing dresses. Everyone was dressed well except one man in the corner of the room. He was adorned in dirty trousers and an extremely loose plaid shirt. He was staring at me with watchful eyes as I entered the party. I continued to walk into angelic house, as the man started to walk toward me. I saw Austen noticing him, and he started to approach the man as well.

“May I speak to the princess?”

“No.” Austen replied.

“No?!” He said as he sliced a knife through his arm. I watched in horror as the dark red blood seeped out of the cut in his arm. The strange man started to run. But instead of running away, he began to run to me. He threw me on his shoulder, causing the hoop of my dress to fling up. After that, he sprinted towards the door, slicing everyone in the way with his knife. After we were outside, a carriage was waiting. The unknown man pushed me into the coach and slammed the door behind him, closing out all of the light from the outside. “Do you remember me?” he said in a deep voice.

“No”, I replied, my voice high and squeaky as the carriage started to move.

“You don’t remember me!” he said as he slapped me across the face.

“Who are you? State your reasons for kidnapping me immediately!” I demanded.

“My name is Charles, Charles Dickinson,” he quietly replied.

“Where are you taking me, Mr. Dickinson?” I commanded.

“To London, where you will become my wife.”

“You’re out of your bloody mind if you think that I would consider marrying you! Now reveal your face!” I screamed at him.

“If I can’t marry you, no one can!” he yelled as he put a bag over my head and pushed me out of the carriage. I tumbled down a hill incredibly fast, saying a silent prayer to my family. Oh no, I thought to myself as I heard the sound of running water. I was spiraling to my death. My life flashed before my eyes as the sound of water grew more deafening. I felt myself falling off the edge of the cliff, descending into the water below. I hit the water, astonishingly hard. By now, my blood started to pour out of my mouth. The water started to rise in my bag as I was sinking. I was crying, tears streaming down my face. I’m drowning, I thought to myself as I started gasping. I slowly let my eyes close, as this was the last gasp I would ever take.

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