Dear Past, You Suck!

Reunited

I lurched out of bed. The nightmare still fresh in my mind. It seems I can't get a solid night's sleep anymore. A letter hasn't arrived for a month now. So that means I haven't had a peaceful sleep for a month. I dream of him lying alone and injured in a field. Of his eyes stare blankly at the night sky. Of him floating down a slow river. Of blood dripping endlessly and explosions ripping men apart. Of me searching for him endlessly through a field of wheat, his voice always coming from the direction I am not going. I dream of losing him. Forever.

I held my swollen stomach as I focus on my breathing. In...out... He's okay. He will be home soon enough. There's not always a way to get letters home. Don't be paranoid, Elizabeth. Control yourself. But despite my reassurances my body still shook. I could feel the sweat cooling my forehead in the cold room. The fire had probably gone out hours ago. Heaving myself out of bed I feel along the cold floor for my slippers. I flip the cold fabric onto each of my feet and shuffle down the hallway, not knowing where I am going.

But my feet lead me down the staircase, towards the front hall. The light of the moon cast ghastly shadows through the halls making every object seem tall and looming, reaching toward you with fingers made of darkness. I wrapped my arms tighter around my body, my hair standing on edge. Then I see something. Gliding quickly across the floor not a sound being made as if it was not even there. She skittered out of the kitchen, a cloak crusted with snow wrapped tightly around her. Her usually beautiful face seemed gaunt in the dark of the night, her golden wind-whipped hair like straw around her face.

"Margaret?" I said in a hoarse whisper. Her head whipped around, eyes wide- a deer caught in headlights. "What are you doing? Were you outside?"

She ran towards me, her footfalls as she hopped up the stairs not making a noise. She leaned in close, only a few inches away from my face. She smelled like the forest. "You mustn't tell anyone you saw me tonight, Elizabeth." Her sky blue eyes seemed as dark as the ocean as she spoke and her face remained stoic.

"What why. What were you doing Margaret?" I ask, leaning slowly back.

"Do you understand me Elizabeth. Not. A. Word." She said eerily calm. Her dark eyes bore into me. A plead? Or a threat?

"Alright. I will not speak of it," I said hesitantly. Without acknowledging that I had replied, she whipped up the stairs, her silent departure leaving no trace that she had even here, except a shiver down my spine that could not be shook.

The next morning I woke up with the strange encounter from the last night playing in my mind. What was she doing at that time at night? Was she meeting someone? Would the Prince want to see her so late at night?

I got dressed for the day and headed downstairs, dreading seeing Margaret. How would she react? But when I reached the dining room, she sat there smiling with my parents.

"Good morning, Elle! How was your rest?" Margaret greeted me nonchalantly as she buttered some bread.

"Uh, fine I suppose, hold for a few nightmares. Has the post arrived yet?" I asked trying to also keep up a casual conversational tone. But I couldn't help my eyes flitting curiously at Margaret trying to locate any clues about last night.

"Unfortunately not yet, dear," Mother said sadly before adding, "I am sure we will hear word about him today. Your father has sent out men to inquire on his whereabouts."

"Yes, we can not have you worrying as it may affect your child," Father said gruffly

"Of course, Father," I said.