There are always two sides to a story. Whether each side is right or not isn't a fact but rather something to see.
Perception can change, and so do feelings. One action can completely change everything while some slowly peel away to reveal it's nasty effect.
Words can only go so far, and this is true for every tale. You can only describe and try to give a feeling but as most would know, everyone interprets things differently.
So in saying this, you could be convinced that there is never a wrong side, only people who have reasons. Reasons which may be sinister or compassionate.
Well, by any chance you could interpret this as you like. A word of warning for about what's to come, or hope.
People are complex, and trying to wrap your head around the fact that each and every person has a story of there own can be hard, especially if you don't know their name. But maybe these are the people we can find solace in, people who we don't judge based on any prior experience. Instead by taking them as a person.
Because in this world of complex people and problems, maybe forgetting what makes us different can truly help us to see what is really troubling us.
Instead of looking through two different sides.
11th of July 1795
~Frederick's pov~
Every day since my father injured himself it was the same routine. Like normally I'd have breakfast, that part didn't change much except for the presence of my father.
After that, I'd spend a few hours with Johanna in the garden. By now we'd grown less awkward and could actually hold a feasible conversation. Of course, we were still weren't comfortable with the fact that we were to wed so soon but at least knowing her a bit could help.
And after that, at about lunch was when I decided to visit my father. That was what I was doing now, alone with my thoughts as I walked towards my parent's room. Wandering how long it was till everything was back to normal and when I could finally feel happiness like before.
Each step numbingly similar to the one before as I walked closer to the door at the end of the corridor. Stares from the portraits from everywhere around me, feeling like a jury whose eyes were examining me, the criminal.
I felt surely guilty, that I hadn't apologised to my father since our argument. Leaving me to wonder what my father was feeling, what his honestly confusing mind was thinking. He probably wanted to hug me back, heck he probably wanted to half yell in joy. But he couldn't, and no one knew why.
All I could assume was that he was smiling on the inside, excited for when he finally recovers and gets to talk to his family.
This thought calmed me, and right now I needed it. As I knocked on the door like usual I felt my heart thump and almost skip a beat.
"Frederick." The oak door opened and the face of my mother greeted me like usual. She was always here in my father's room watching him because she cared. Which was odd to me, because up until this point I didn't think my mother really cared for my father. I thought she was just going along with him because of sheer fear.
But now as I walked into the room seeing her hug him so happily and knowing that she stayed by his side ever since his accident was something that made me feel at peace. Maybe my mother didn't care about what happened in the past, but rather what was happening now. And that was looking after her husband.
I smiled slightly and walked towards my father's bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. I looked at my father and saw that he was smiling softly at me, I grinned again and shuffled closer towards him. I held out my hand and grabbed his, holding it slightly.
"I see you're getting better, hopefully, you'll be healed soon enough for the wedding," I explained. My father moved closer and he patted my head with his good arm. I chuckled slightly and my father handed me a book. I gently grabbed it from him and smiled. "Thanks."
My father smiled again and I sighed slightly. "I hope you'll be able to talk soon, it sounds so weird not to hear you talk." I giggled. My father smiled again and wrapped his good arm around me. I hugged him back and felt his head move towards my ear.
I felt a slight discomfort in his actions but held in my breath. His mouth moved closer and he whispered something under his breath. "Vergiss nicht warum." I flinched back slightly and I felt my mother's hands on my shoulder. She smiled slightly and looked up causing my father to freeze. I looked at him oddly and my mother whispered in my ear.
"I think it's time for you to go Freddy." she smiled. I nodded and stood up as I waved towards the both of them. I quickly shuffled through the door and quickly shut it gently. I sighed slightly and yawned as I looked towards the large grandfather clock in the hall.
I observed the hands slightly and watched the hands tick by almost nostalgically. I felt the ground below almost move and I felt a slightly disorienting feeling, it reminded me of when I was on the boat. I quickly shuffled forward and breathed in. Slowly but surely I regained my bearings and started walking down the hall. I looked at the book that my father handed me and stared down at the blank and worn cover.
I found the absence of a title odd and opened up the book, observing the words.
Property of Prince George
It must have been my father's. I quickly flicked to the next page and looked at the set up of the page. At the top was the date, 16th of February 1795 and below it was what seemed to be a diary entry.
It was odd but my father had just handed me his diary. I shut the book in confusion and remembered the words my father said to me. "Vergiss nicht warum." I felt even more confused than before until I realised the meaning.
What did he mean by 'why'?