Once upon a time, in a far off land, dwelled a family of four- most commonly known as the Whittlewoods.
There was nothing exceptionlly special about this family, their middle class status proved that.
The father was a well renouned Blacksmith, reliable and approachable.
The mother, a Fletcher. It was a very unusual job for a woman at the time.
'A woman making arrows?' some of the men would scoff. She didn't receive much business because of that, but that didn't stop her.
She enjoyed what she did, whether she sold any arrows or not.
Their youngest child, a son of eleven years old, was following closely behind his father.
His dream was to be a Blacksmith also, one just as phenominal as the the man who raised him.
His parents were proud of him...It was their daughter that aroused some form of worry.
She was different from others in her town.
She did not care about what social class people resided in.
She did not care what people did for a living or what they did in their own time.
She spent as much of her time as she could with the peseant children.
Reading them stories, playing with them, giving them food off of her own plate.
She made them happy and she loved that, but her parent could not understand her willingness to give away what little she herself owned.
They told her time and time again to stop with the foolishness, but did she ever listen?
No.
She herself could not fathom the idea of just standing by and watching the children waste away into nothing.
They deserved just as much as she did, so repeatedly she continued to disregard her parents wishes.
The peseant children adored her. They worshipped the ground in which she stood on.
They clung to every word that floated past her lips, eagerly awaiting the next.
The young woman, felt truly happy around these children.
She felt wanted and needed.
The children relied on her.
And after a while, it wasn't just the children that grew attacted.
The other villagers became intrigued, Peseants and middle class alike.
They were all captured by her beautiful stories.
Dying to know what came next.
Whenever she spoke, people stopped what they were currently doing to listen.
After a while her parents became understanding , they know what she wanted- just like she did.
And after seeing her surrounded by people.
A smile adorning each seperate persons's face as they listened in.
They knew. They just knew.
That was where she belonged.
That selfless, radient woman was exactly the daughter they hoped for.
They were more than proud of her, and she knew that.
They didn't have to say utter a word...She just knew.
She continued on like that.
Singing to the children.
Telling crazy stories to the towns folk.
But like every fairytale, the happiness always has to come to an end.
And that's exactly what happened.
Something in the town changed.
The people were frightened, confused.
.
.
.
Someone was dead.
Of course, death not an uncommon occurance, but this was different.
It wasn't an illness, the plague hadn't struck.
It was murder.
Someone had been murdered.
The town began to shut it's self away.
The gates closed perminantly.
Now that could have been both a good and bad thing.
The good thing about closing the gate, was the knowledge that the murder was now obscured from entering.
The bad thing?
What if they were already within the boundaries?
Within this time people could not process the situation themselves, they all followed each other, like sheep.
If someone went inside...Everyone went inside.
If someone left their house, eveyone else deemed it safe and out they came.
Everyone but the Whittlewood daughter.
She was terrified.
No one could understand her level of fear.
The towns folk was scared, sure, but no one -and i repeat no one was as afraid as she was.
.
.
.
She was there that frightful night.
In the woods.
She never ment to be, but she had managed to bypass her family to go and pick some daisies for a sick child.
She was safe for a awhile...until she heard it.
A scream. A scream that has seared it's way perminantly into her mind.
She wanted to run. She wanted to hide.
But she did the opposite and instead went looking for the person.
She found her. Sprawled out on the floor, dying.
But the dying woman was far from alone.
That was all the Whittlewood daughter could remember.
She knew deep down that there was far more to that story than she could remember.
And that's what scared her her most.
She knew she was there. She knew she saw it.
But what exactly did she see?
According to her memory...nothing.
After the incident she kept herself locked away within her home.
She didn't try to interact with any one anymore.
She kept to herself.
People were still afraid, but yet they still managed to notice the change in the young woman.
And that effected the village as a whole.
People relied on her to make them smile, to make them forget the tragedy.
But she wasn't there for them anymore.
Everyone was alone.
Her parents grew worried and anxious. They didn't know what to do to help their daughter.
Their worries only increased as time went on.
Income was becoming a problem...There was too little of it.
They has a solution in mind, but guilt tugged at them as they arranged it.
They knew she would not want this. But it needed to be done.
She was at the right age and they managed to find a perfect suitor for her.
She was to be wedded as so as possible.
When the young woman found out, she didn't deal with it as to how her parents assumed.
Instead she agreed. There was no fight, no argument, just simple agreement.
When the village found out they rejoiced. They thought they finally had their little sun back.
But they could not have been more further from the truth.
The truth was, she was unhappy...She was sad.
She did not want this, but it was inportant for her family's sake.
Her family always came first.
She agreed to the marriage, purely on the fact that she did not believe in love and marrige in that day and age was envitable.
What she did not count on, was actually falling in love.
It came as shocking surprise.
And what was even more shocking was the fact that it was not with her fiancé.
She grew to like him, but with nothing more advanced than friendship.
No, instead she fell inlove with a Lord.
And he with her.
All it took was one meeting and they were hooked on each other.
Almost like love at first sight.
An instant attraction.
But where there were good points, came bad.
He was different from anyone she had ever encountered, and that's what sparked her original curiosity.
But the more she grew to know him, the scarier the truth became.
He was a monster.
She'd fallen inlove with a real life monster.
But even after learning that about his past and present, she could not help but fall that much harder for him.
Being with him made her finally feel alive again, happy, truly herself
but typically it was the one thing that killed her.
He was the death of her.
But no one could ever know the truth.
All anyone was told was that it was an animal attack and that she'll be greatly missed.
And she was.
No one managed to move on from her.
Her memory lived on through her towns people.
Stories were told about her for generations.
About her kindness. Her bravery. Her elegant beauty.
She changed the way villagers thought.
The middle class and the peseants worked together to honor her memory.
.
.
.
The Lord she had fallen inlove with, hadn't managed to forget her either.
And he tried, over and over and over again.
It was too painful to rememeber. His heart burned and twisted painfully with every thought of her.
He wanted to cry.
But that wasn't who he was. That wasn't how he would normally react.
So he dealt with it his own way.
He became ruthless, violent and unprediactable.
He craved the feeling of blood dripping from his chin and off of his hands.
To see dead lifeless bodies surrounding him.
He no longer held any humanity within his soul.
The bright light within his soul that the young Whittlewood had arisen, diminished into the darkest black imaginable.
There was no hope left for him.
The young woman really was his everything
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.
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But just like every other fairytale in existance, there was a twist.
A twist that could make or break the Hybrids heart.
The Whittlewood daughter was alive..
And I would know that because the young woman in my story...Is me.
I'm the daughter born to the Whittlewoods.
The woman who found a passion for the nature of people.
Who was afraid.
The daring woman who fell so deeply inlove with the young Lord, she forgave him for killing her.
But my story didn't end there, in fact my story is still being continued..
I'm stuck in an endless cycle.
Cursed because of my choice of lovers.
Time seems to just stand still with me. I'm not moving backwards and can not move forwards as much as I try.
I'm lost and I need to be found.
My true story, wasn't about falling inlove for the first time.
No, it was about something stronger than that.
It's about the undying love I felt for that man.
No matter the curse placed upon me, I always Knew who my heart was crying out for.
This is my story on how my heart lead me straight back into the arms of my prince...
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So that we could live happily ever after.
Heeeey guiesss! I have a slight obsesssion with Klaus (joseph morgan) at the moment and that is the reasoning behind this story. I hope you all enjoy it :D
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Mwahh much loveee :D