Rebellious Rebellious Veronica

- "Just tell me what I have to do. Just tell me. Please! I-- I don't know... I don't remember anything! None of this nonsense you guys are making me believe.
Maybe, I don't know the rights and wrongs as I think I do right now. I'm begging you, just please tell me, guide me or something! Give me directions. I can't do this on my own."
"Believing what's right isn't enough Vera. You have to remember. Because if you don't, no one will or can tolerate a fake act."

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3. Chapter 1 - (continued) From Nowhere to Nowhere

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They come and go. First, their amusement is shown, then they leave without further talk. No compliments or fairness. They talk about the party and of their dresses. They're explaining who they are suppose to be, but sometimes you can just tell by the moment you lay your eyes on them. I am not anyone, just myself. Well, a seventeenth century girl.

They show off everything they have bought lately. Chattering on about the latest news and which girl has been eliminated again. Saying the least about my coming of age. And the least of acknowledgments, which are mostly from the elders. Whispering about guys and laughing out loud. 'Oh he's so cute!' 'No, he's adorable!' Daring one another to go and talk to the one she likes. Blushing and flirting. And disappointingly getting a hundred-and-three- degree fever when a girl is refused by a boy she fancied. And we laugh. The party's all about the laughing.

A few come by and get the girls they adore, making them laugh and blush, walking them around with her hands on his arms. They make them feel like women. And also highly possible for the other way around. Ha! How hilarious it sounds to my infectious mind!  
Though… It makes me think about myself the more because none of them shows any affection to me. They give me nothing, not even a glance. But this party is mine. It's for me. Oh, whatever! I'm the one who vowed not to get involved with any sweet boys.

    Now this is the boring part of the party. I stand in the corner, kneeling toward the window and looking out to the garden outside. The memories of childhood and desire to go back to it is running through my spine. But it's also the proof that I’m older now and disciplined enough to at least have some sense of controlling temptations at the wrong place.

Servers come and go, wearing a suit that is white from head to toe, besides their Derby dress shoes. Each one of them have white neatly folded handkerchiefs hanging on their suit coat like they want to dance. They hold silver trays of glasses of wine and beer, bowls of fruits and sweets. I take a star shaped pineapple sandwich and finally decide to just go out to the garden. I can't stand this commotion, sweaty heat and insane laughter's that you would think would turn into slaughters soon.

I open the window panel by the windows next to me and the cool breeze outside hits my face like a ocean wave. I feel as if all my problems and awkwardness inside is released. I sit down in the bench farther down the paving stone because I feel like I'm going to collapse or faint at any moment. My legs wobble as I take in the scenery of this beautiful garden. I wonder if anyone ever cared for these little graceful flowers, besides the servants, of course. 


Perhaps when the members of the Royals were younger and had much more free time. And perhaps in a few more decades when another new generation will slap the face of these walls of the Palace, new, young, and fresh.


It's getting dark now, and I can barely make out the shadow behind the bushes in the pave stone. It meows and I know it's a cat. I immediately open up my gentile arms to give it shelter and start petting it. This cat is as magnificent as the garden itself, it's white as the stars and has glitter all over it. Playing silly games I see huh? But whose is it? 


Could it be homeless?


Oh my sweet Jesus!


Please don't let anyone see this...
  

 "Wondering iffff it's homeless?" A drunk-seeming voice says behind me at my confusion. I turn around and there is a fat, old blond man with streaks of grey in his hair. Misshapen, marrow bones, and not fit. Definitely out of style and old fashioned, as if he hasn't set his god gifted ten toes outside in fifty years.
    

"But, at the same ttime, lovves cats?" 
Okay, seriously. What's up with the people in the Palace with odd voices? He talks like he doesn't know how to. Or his third grade teacher was terrible and taught the children wrong and far out of reach of being able to be untaught or erased from the memory. They should really talk more with the 'normal' people. The ordinary people of the modern world and life...

Well, so this cat is his? Uh-uh. Why is it that trouble always calls my name?

Right at that moment I take a more suited look on the cat. It's as if I'm in a ridiculous horror tale. It's eye balls are green with a pinch of red in the middle, like mama just sprinkled a dust of mixed peppers on it. It looks like vomit. The cat meows and this time his little soft delicate voice doesn't sound so innocent and cheerful anymore. Instead, it squeals like a old and not-used-for-a-million-years screw driver. Sweat pours down my hairline on my forehead. The cat bites my finger and jumps off of my lap, running away. I stare dizzily at the dark blood pouring down on my blue dress.  

"Uhh, scared I see."

It make's me quite scared that he knows what I'm thinking. I know he can't read my mind but-- Wait, what if he can? Ugh--- my dear, my dear. Does my face really show my feelings that much? So it's that obvious? All my hard works of acting have finally shown failure. With the stupid words of this stupid odd little drunk stranger. Or maybe it's just that he's a really good face reader. Like a fortune teller, studying his customers palms. OR, he has known me for a very long time and everything about me. Which is not. 

But... Nonetheless, yes. I am scared.

I’m relieved when I see father coming down to fetch me, I let out a silent sigh. Or at least that's what I think it is. Right on time. I turn around, but hide my bleeding hand behind me. 
    

"Krissy?" Phew. He doesn't see my pain set face in the dark. 
  

 "Yes father. I'm here." I reply quickly.  

"Oh good. Come inside now, it's getting late."
    I turn around once more and the man has disappeared. From nowhere to nowhere. As if he was never here.

As if I was never there.

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