Always a Happy Ending

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My gold, curly locks blew in the gust of wind that had just blown by. “Preston, Preston! Where are you?” I screeched in the breeze. Although he couldn’t hear me, I knew in my heart that he could. It was like sixth sense. We could hear each other without even speaking.

One pink stone fell from the silver tiara, placed gently on my head seven years ago by my now-dead father. This tiara claimed I was Princess Jesiah of Gaziar. It was falling apart just like our empire.

Always a Happy Ending

Dear Diary,


September 15th, 1365

Now that I, a seventeen-year-old, was in charge of our town, everyone was going insane and things were very chaotic. Horses ran loose everywhere. I want to be like them; free to escape and run in this wind. All I could do was stand here, and watch everything my father had worked for go downhill.

There was one good thing though. Preston was helping me with all the chaotic-ness. Preston, his perfect mocha-colored hair and rich, olive skin shine in the sun we have just about everyday now. His icy blue eyes remind me of my mother. My father was the deep end of the ocean, strict and dark. My mother, oh mother, was the surface. She was light and easy-going. Oh, Preston is so much like her. I just love him! I want to squeeze him tight and never let go!

Oh, Diary. You always make things so much easier. Now that Lizabeth is gone, there is no one to talk to besides you.



Love, Jesiah


Dear Jesiah,


October 3rd, 1365






I love you more than anything. Your are the stars in my sky. You are the butter on my toast. I could never live without you.

I beg of you, look up into the sky at exactly 9:20. Look at your balcony window. Turn back and there will await a great surprise for you back in your room.





I love you, Preston


Dear Preston,


October 3rd, 1365


I will do anything you say, my love. But I must ask, why? Do you have something for me? Oh, I can’t wait! You’re the love of my life, darling.


Love, Jesiah


Today is Lizabeth’s funeral. Everyone in Gaziar is going. As you can see, Lizabeth was very loves. She was very kind and it was a great honor for her to live in this town. She was my best friend and I told her everything. She always promised she would take it to the grave. I guess she was telling the truth.

She had been hit on September 13th by horse-and-buggy galloping through town on its way to Marchik-Flauwter. The horse-and-buggy never made it there, considering the two men on the buggy flipped out of their seats and were trampled by the horses. Their funerals were also today, but they were being held in Marchik-Flauwter. No one in town cared to go see them; they wanted to see the kind, caring Lizabeth. But she wasn’t there to see. She was stuck in a coffin, about to be buried in a dark, dusty hole in the ground (it’s called a grave, but I think it’s just a hole in the ground).



Dear Diary,


October 3rd, 1365


Preston told me I must look out my window at exactly 9:20. It is 9:15. Oh, I cannot wait! It feels like every second is one hour. That’d be…300 more hours to go! That would be horrible. I could never wait that long. Not for my dearest, Preston. Hmm…..



Love, Jesiah


Finally it was 9:19. I decided to step out a minute early. That was the longest minute of my life. I sat on the on the metal porch chair with a rosy cushion. It was 9:20. I looked up into the blackening sky.

Marry Me, Jesiah?



The fireworks exploded into the sky. I gasped in deep excitement. I turned on my bare heel to look into my bedroom, as Preston had said. There he kneeled, a red velvet box cradling that perfect ring in his hand. My hands slowly rose to my mouth. I threw back my head and screamed a glorious scream. “Yes!” More fireworks exploded into the sky.

Happily Ever After





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