Saturday, 15 December 2007
01:53:04 PM (GMT)
Okay, this was a story I had to do for english and read aloud to the class. It
was very... interesting. Lol! I'm posting is since I feel like having a new diary
entry, but I can't think of anything else to put in here. Have fun! P.S. This is a
Holly was easing herself down the marble staircase, trying to make sure she didn’t
trip on her new royal blue gown.
Her long time house maid was polishing a bust of King George, and looked up at the
sound of Holly’s heels clacking on the stairs. “Good afternoon Mrs. Hunter. Oh
my, don’t you just look absolutely wonderful, what’s the special occasion?”
“Hello Martha, no occasion, I just felt like looking nice today.” Holly replied
reaching the bottom of the stairs. She absent-mindedly walked over to the silver
framed mirror that was hanging on the wall to examine her appearance.
She patted her red, ringlet hair to smooth it out. Holly smiled at her reflection,
she loved the way the light from the chandelier in the hall gave her hair an extra
shimmer. She started to remember the days when her hair looked dull and lifeless.
But, that was a long time ago, before she had met Damien.
“Mrs. Hunter?” Martha said in an impatient tone. She was now standing behind
Holly zoned back in at the sound of her name. She turned around to look at her maid.
“Oh, were you saying something?” she asked in a dazed voice.
Martha sighed and continued, “I was trying to tell you that Mr. Hunter said that
he would be out of town today. Apparently, those rowdy American hooligans ran one of
his merchants right out of town, yelling threats of tar and feathering.”
Holly nodded her head. “Well, I think I’ll go out today too. No use staying
around this big empty mansion by myself now is there.” She walked over to the coat
rack and put on her black overcoat. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, probably
not until after dark.” She said. “If Damien returns before I do, tell him I went
out for a walk.”
“Yes ma’am.” Martha said as Holly closed the door behind her. Martha sighed.
“That woman can get so… distracted.” She said to herself as she went back to
Holly walked down the lawn and through the small town of Victoria Grove. She
courteously waved to people as they greeted her from a distance, kindly declined
hands at marriage, and reluctantly gave up some money to the poor. Wanting to get
away from all of the hustle and bustle, Holly headed towards the edge of town where
there were less people asking for handouts. She was slowly gliding along, mesmerized
by the dusk atmosphere, when something hurled into the back of her head. She fell to
the ground, and blacked out.
Holly slowly opened her eyes, a bit dizzy from the collision. There was still a dull
pain in the back of her head from where she had been hit. She slowly sat up and it
was then that she realized that she had no idea where she was. She looked around, a
slight panic setting in. Holly was in the middle of a foggy clearing in foreign wood
of some sort, illuminated by the rays of a full moon. She could hear water gurgling
from a small river flowing directly behind her. She quickly stumbled to her feet,
tripping on her dress.
“Of all the days I could have worn this dress, I picked today.” She complained
under her breath.
“It’s actually a beautiful dress.” said a light, silky voice from the gloom.
Holly turned towards it. “I used to have one just like it.”
The person stepped out into the moonlight. It was a woman about Holly’s age. She
had long, lifelessly black hair and was dressed in rags. Her face was blotched with
mud and dirt, and her hands were hidden behind her back.
“Who are you?” Holly asked in a small, frightened voice. “What do you
“Me, I’m Freya Myther. What I want, why, I just want my revenge.” she said,
smiling a sweet, twisted smile.
“Revenge… revenge for what?” Holly asked, slowly trying to back away.
Unfortunately, her path was blocked by the river.
Freya laughed lightly, as if Holly’s question amused her.
“Why, for taking away everything I owned of course.” Freya responded, taking a
step towards a very bewildered Holly. “Here, let me explain. You see, I was once
rich, beautiful, loved by all, and it was all thanks to my wonderful husband. In
fact, I think you know him. He goes by the name of Damien Hunter.”
Holly’s eyes widened. “He had another wife? He told me he had never married
Freya scowled at this new knowledge, slowly walking towards Holly. “I bet he was
too ashamed, ashamed of my stupid Yankee siblings over in America, taking part in
their worthless rebellion.” She stopped and looked at the ground as she continued;
letting out all the anger she had locked away for almost two years. “At first, he
said he didn’t care, so long as I didn’t get persuaded to join their side. But
then…” Freya’s voice trailed off. Her head snapped up, and she glared at Holly
with an almost psychotic look. Holly was starting to shake with terror. “Then he
met you! You and your loyalist family! Once he met you, he left me without giving it
a second thought! He took everything I had, my house, my food, my money, everything!
Now, I have to live on the streets, while you fill the place that rightfully belongs
Holly’s thoughts were swimming from one grim thought to the next. “This, this,
Freya is insane!” she thought. Holly spoke up, her voice hoarse from the fear.
“Are you going to… kill me?”
Freya stared at her. “No, I’m going to cut off your hair.” She said
Holly yelped and grabbed her red locks. Freya chuckled as she brought her hands out
from behind her back.
“Hmm, I didn’t think anyone could be that vain.” She said. In her hand was a
dagger, dented and chipped with age. “No, I’m not cutting your hair, I’m
cutting something else. Something a little bit more… important.”
Holly screamed as Freya lunged at her with the shining dagger. Her scream abruptly
stopped, and she collapsed into the river. The moonlight glistened through some cloud
cover, illuminating the flowing, dark red water.
Last edited: 21 March 2008