Princess And The Thief

troublesome embroidering

I am sitting, sitting and trying not to shake. If I shake, I mess up. If I mess up, I lose my patience. And if I lose patience, I will scream. And if I scream I will alert the whole castle, and everything will be in chaos. I could almost imagine people running around either yelling orders or screaming their lungs out. So, basically, I'm trying not to shake. Which is harder than it sounds, especially when you are being watched constantly, very closely. All the time. And sooner or later it gets on your nerves, but what can you expect from overprotective parents? I love them and all, but seriously, WAY to much protecting for my taste.

Like, for example, right now. Madame Black(the name me and my attendant-friend gave her) is pacing around me as I try my best to embroider while not shaking or placing the needle in the wrong place. One simple mistake and I'm done for. Her heels are making loud clacking sounds on the marble floor as she paces around me. I've had Madame Black as a teacher for five years, which is the longest time I have ever had the same teacher.(Trust me, I do not mean that in a good way) Even throughout that period of time, not once has she complimented me on my work or said a nice thing to me.

Her voice is always perfect, but full of bitterness. She always knows the right things to say to either please or hurt you. Unlike me, who stutters, trying to find the right words to say. Whenever Madame Black talks to me her words are full of ice. However, when she talks to my parents( who are wealthy and pay her a more-than-an-agreeable salary)her voice has no ice, and instead sounds like she's smiling and actually enjoying someone's company.(which she never is) Mary (my attendant-friend) and I have talked about the possibilities of Madame Black being a witch. I have long given up the chance of witches or any other fictional creature being real, but it is still fun to imagine her as a witch.

I don't actually know what Madame Black looks like , but according to Mary, she looks like a rare, cold, enchanting hawk. Whatever that means. But I still like to imagine her as a witch. A witch with a huge nose with a big wart on top. I have spent several months perfecting my imagination of Madame Black, and it is quite frightening.

Madame Black cleared her throat, bringing me out of my thoughts of witches kidnapping little children and eating them(yuck!) "What exactly are you trying to crochet Princess?" Madame Black asked. I frowned, and touched the rough fabric I was trying to crochet. Even though I was supposed to feel a perfect flower, instead, I felt tons of knots and uneven stitches. Anger boiled up inside me. I'd had about enough of this! I threw down my fabric with knots and tangles, glared at where I thought Madame Black might be, and stormed dramatically out of the library.(ever so carefully, of course as to not run into any walls) As I continued storming toward the back gardens, I thought about all the things that weren't fair in my life, and before I knew it, my feet were running on soft, cool grass.

The wind whipped around me like a long lost friend. The sun was in the air and the heat out. I breathed, taking it all in. I heard running footsteps coming closer, without thinking I started running again. I kept tripping on rocks or twigs and once or twice I heard my dress ripping. I kept running faster though, hoping that my underclothes weren't showing. After what seemed a few minutes worth of running, pain flared up in my lungs, I slowed to a stop, hands on knees, and breathed heavily. After catching my breath, I let my legs collapse from underneath me, and sleep passed over with a warm welcome.

*Please comment on what you think, I want to improve, so please help me do so :)