Dear Past, You Suck!

Thrown To The Dogs

"This vixen spews lies! She will have you all seduced with her honey words made aptly in the fires of hell meant to trick us all and turn on our own brethren. For longer than we have records my family has been here to secure the success of this land, why should I try to hurt her when my life is far better than most would wish to have? Do not let her poison words entice you to follow her when the she walks the devil's path to hell. I plead to you, if you do not wish to for me, do it for yourself," I said mimicking her tone and speech.

"Why would I do this to myself? I have no reason to. She however has expressed her dissatisfaction with my marriage to the prince since we met! I think she envious that she had not met him first." She said, fake tears rimming her eyes.

"It is not the truth! It is not even clever. Why would I wish her ill will when her marriage would elevate my family and myself. I am married to a rich man with a family in the making-"

" Rich his family may be but inheritance he possesses not! I would not hand over a portion of the kings and country's wealth for their mere benefit so retribution they both seek for 'disloyalty to the family.' I did not know at the time what their cost would be for my disobedience." Margaret's foul words turned the heads of the people, beady and suspicious eyes trying to analyze my very soul.

A voice in the crowd cried, "Hang the treacherer!" Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Emotions rolled through me like waves breaking on the beach. Anger broke my vision. Sadness broke my heart. Fear turned my stomach. Desperation filled my soul. "Seize her!" Someone shouted. Rough hands grabbed my arms, trying to pull me toward the destination they had in their mind.

A wave of anger overcame me, lurching forward I forced myself out of their arms and ran towards Margaret my arms outstretched, "Coward!" But before I could reach my mark arms from every direction came down upon me. Restraining me in every way possible.

Together as a mob, they marched me through the poorly lit streets. My head spun, every step I took seemed like the earth was sitting on top of water, my knees going weak with every surge of the ground beneath. My head pounded from where it had made contact so roughly with the ground when Jacques had pulled me down. I tried to stare at my feet instead of the growing crowd around me. Something rotten made contact with they leg splattering up to my face. "Death to the traitors!" was the comment that went with it. I am sure if it wasn't such a rotten situation I would have thought of some smartass comment to go with it. Wait, never mind I managed it. I chuckled slightly to myself despite it all. In trying moments I tend to lose my sanity. At least it sounds like Abe got away.

I wonder what will happen if I'm thrown into jail, will my family pull strings and get me out? I'm not sure that even they will be able to get me out of this. What will happen if I spend the rest of my life in a 18th century prison- almost literally rotting away. What will happen to my baby? To Abe? What will happen if I die here, in this century?

They threw me into the dark and musty cell. It smelled like something was rotting, I just hope that it is the hay and not something that was once alive and moving. There was no window in here, no chance of escape that way. I could slightly see the wall to the left of me from the torch that was down the hall. I laid there where I landed, tracing a stone over and over again with my finger. What the hell am I going to do now? I've really screwed the pooch this time. Why the hell did we follow Margaret? When we saw the light from Margaret's lantern why did we not ignore it, decided it was her business and gone up to bed? Curiosity killed the cat- or in this version killed me.

Scuffling of feet from the corridor riled my attention. My head still spinning, I sat up looking through the bars of my cage. The prison guard opened the cell, throwing roughly in a slouched and battered man. He didn't try to get up as the guard locked the door again. I could hear his raspy breathing and occasional spitting- from the looks of him probably blood. In crawled over to him, lightly putting a hand on his back, he winced at the touch. As I wiped the wet hair from his eyes, hoping it was sweat and not blood, I whispered gently, "What did they do to you."

He spat into the dirt again, and tried to hoist his body into a sitting position. I pressed my hand gently against his chest forcing him to lie back down. "I am sorry I did not turn back for you," his voice shook.

"I don't care about that, I was hoping you would get away. Now what happened?"

It took a few seconds for him to respond, he was struggling to talk, "They caught me and they...they..." He choked on his words, sobbing. I lifted his head into my lap, stroking his hair while he cried. I eventually fell asleep, leaning back onto the hard floor, Abe's head still in my lap.

Cold shocked me out of sleep. Gasping I lurched up, throwing Abe off of my lap. Rubbing the water out of my eyes, I looked up at the guard standing in the doorway with a bucket. "Time to get up. They are waiting for you at the court," the old guard gruffed.

Abe stiffly and slowly sat up, obviously still pained from last night, "No, no, no. Not acceptable. We were not given adequate warning time to prepare for a trial. We should have a fortnight to prepare!"

"Well, son, I think the king has bypassed that rule. Now up! The both of you!" He walked in, lifting us both up by the armpits and forcing us through the corridor of the local prison.

"The king can't do this this, can he?" I asked directing it at Abe.

"Not technically no."

The guard overhearing us spoke up, "Yes but for what you two did, they are making some liberties. I would not be surprised if the two of you were swinging from the gallows by the end of the day." My hand subconsciously found its way to my neck, rubbing the spot a rope would lie. My breath caught in my throat mimicking the idea of being strangled.The thought of Abe swinging from a rope burned through my mind. I looked at Abe trying hard to picture anything but his corpse. Now in the daylit street, I could clearly see his injuries. A puffy blue eye, a split lip, a bruise swelling the right side of his jaw, and dried blood around his nose. His nose was at an odd angle like it might have been broken. I am sure if he didn't have clothes on the rest of him would look just as broken. His injuries didn't help me to put away the image of him dead that was circling my mind. In fact, in this moment, he looked more dead than alive.

As the guard continued to pull us through the streets, onlookers glared. They glared at us not with envy like they used to, but with disgust, like we were the rats in the streets. How are the people already decided to convict us when the trial hasn't even started? I stared at my feet to avoid the eyes of people. The ground seemed to sink and lurch like waves. "What is wrong with you?" The guard hollered, trying to keep me walking steady with him, "Are you drunk?"

"Can we sit down for a minute, sir, I do not feel so well," I asked as politely as I could.

"No, and you better not throw up on me, I am not against hitting a lady for the right reasons." With that threatening statement, I shut up, trying to focus where I am going, not what is supposed to happen there.

The courtroom was filled with as many people as there could be in there. People were dressed in their best outfits, with the poorer people standing along the back walls. The guard escorted us down the aisle as people's heads turned to gawk at us. He stood us at the base of of the judge's stand and to the side the jury was seated. all pompous looking men with white wigs. I looked behind me at the sea of white trying to find a familiar face. But it seems my family had not been able to make it to my trial.

A short man called, "All rise. Court is now in session. Judge Michaels presiding. Please be seated."