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This diary entry is written by ‹Emafie›. ( View all entries )
Previous entry: HANNAH in category Poem (practise)

The reality of ImaginationCategory: Story
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
07:09:38 PM (GMT)
The reality of Imagination

Chapter 1

‘The Ice Princess’, Isabella-Scarlet wrote in her neatest handwriting on her
artwork. Her drawing was of an ice, blue sled holding a dainty princess wearing a
very large, fur coat. She thought about the story of this betrothed princess and how
her love of ice captured her heart and soul for eternity.
Suddenly, her world collapsed as Maid Agnes, known as Aggie to her friends and
family, pattered in.
“Miss Scarlet, you don’t want to be tardy for practise, do ya’? And take that
pencil out ya’ hair! It’s for writing, not ruining that mop of yours!” Isabella
pulled the pencil from the bun she concocted with it and let her long, wavy, brown
hair unfold down her back to her waist.
“Now turn ‘round and I’ll plait it for ya’.” Aggie motioned for Isabella to
turn round and Izzy did what she was told without a peep. Afterwards, Aggie
“That’s a pretty picture, Miss Scarlet!”
Isabella frowned.
“A picture?” Isabella asked. “Is that all you see it as? Well, now that I look
at it, it’s not filled with the emotion that I had thought it had when I drew this
quick sketch,” Although it took her all night and some of this morning. “And
please, my name is Isabella…”
“Alright, love. I day’ mean no harm. It’s just that your father wishes you to
be referred to Scarlet, Miss Scarlet.”
“Then he shouldn’t have named me Isabella then.” Isabella murmured bitterly as
she stormed out the door.

Practise was like a prison for Izzy. She did ballet, a privilege according to her
father but a chore for Isabella. She wanted to be able to get out of the boring,
robotic routines and free her body with the music. The only reason Isabella freely
went to the practises was the walks back home. Solitude. She loved the feeling of
being alone, but then, she never was alone. She always had someone there to talk to.
Usually, Maisy walked her home. Her nanny rabbit, as she used to call her when she
was younger. She was ever so kind, much kinder than the maids at the Woodcut
Household. She as there when she got in trouble, holding her hand. There when her
sister died, hugging her tightly. And when she came back from the shops or practises,
hopping along behind her as they took the ‘shortcut’ through the woods.
But now Maisy was absent. Izzy heard that she had another litter and had her paws
full. But Izzy wasn’t alone anyway. Soup and Bowls were trotting beside her. They
were her trustworthy dogs. Soup was a Shetland Collie cross with furry ears and a
bushy tail. Bowls was a Great Dane with a strict body and a friendly face. The two
dogs go their names from where she found them.
Causing havoc at a friend’s house when Izzy went over for a visit. The mother, with
soup and wine decorating her dress, argued with her father about them being Izzy’s
dogs but he objected “as we did not keep such wild and unruly beast’s in the
house or gardens.” She argued yet again asking, “Then what do you call your
Izzy’s friend had been ordered upstairs to bathe and Izzy waited in the dining
room, which was in a right state for her father, who was now shouting at the woman in
the hallway.
That’s when she spotted them again. Underneath the table poking their heads from
under the ruined tablecloth with innocent looks on their faces.
Soup, the Border collie, had soup trickling down his face and neck whilst Bowls, the
Great Dane, had a bowl stuck on his head, covering his eyes. Izzy couldn’t help but
laugh at the sight!
That night, when banished to her room, though she didn’t see the punishment in
that, she cleaned them and groomed them and they’ve stayed ever since.
They’ve grown a bit since then, Soups just past Izzy’s knee and Bowls up to her

Isabella walked up to the country road off the street and she passed Tom Ěva. The
farmer’s boy that he took in a few years back and never got treated the same
“G’mornin’ Miss Woodcut!” He called from over the small hedge as he took a
break from planting corn seeds.
“Master Ěva. How is Jacques today?” Izzy asked.
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Tom replied, playing along as they normally
He turned for her to see the beloved scarecrow.
“Nice, new jacket!” She shouted across the field. “How are you feeling today,
“Why, thanks Izzy, I’m really grateful for it. And I’m doing great, lovin’
the gorgeous weather!” The scarecrow called back, his blonde, straw hair blowing in
the breeze that was starting to pick up.
“What did he say?” Tom asked, a big, cheesy grin on his face.
Izzy liked Tom. He was one of the few people she talked to freely. Although he never
saw what she saw, he tried to understand but never really understood. He had thick,
deep brown hair that matched his chocolate eyes, olive skin and a few dark freckles
that dotted his nose and cheeks.
“Likes the new jacket.” She answered as she looked from under her big, blue hat.
“Thought he might,” Tom laughed as he had brought the jacket himself. “Look,
erm, I’m pickin’ berries this afta’noon,” He stuttered. “Thought ya might
wanna come?” “Thank you, Master Ěva, that would be delightful. I shall join you
after tea. Maisy would love some jam for her new family.” He raised one eyebrow but
still smiling said, “See ya here then.”
“Indeed,” She replied. “Good day to you then.”
“Might wanna be careful, Miss Woodcut! Walkin’ home alone, a dainty lady like
you.” And Tom carried on working. Izzy smiled to herself as she walked off. I’m
not alone though; I’m never alone, Izzy thought as Soup and Bowls joined her again
from the bushes they were playing in.
They soon came to the woods. If Maisy was here, Izzy would be pleading to go through
them but Maisy wasn’t here and Izzy was beginning to feel insecure without her.
Izzy carried on walking but heard the dogs whine behind her.
“Oh, come on guys. It’s getting cold. Maybe another time.” Izzy turned around
but was welcomed with an empty path.
“Soups? Bowls?” She called.
Suddenly, a rustling came from between the gap in the fence that surrounded the
“Soups! Bowls! Get out here right now!” Izzy called as sternly as she could. But
she had a feeling Soup and Bowls were gone. Vanished. Whatever was in the bushes
weren’t any of her friends, why would they scare her like this? She wanted to carry
on home, ignore what was in the woods but her curiosity got the better of her, as
“Hello?” She called, creeping slowly towards the noise. She heard a whimpering
sound from the other side, between the crack in the fence, which made her separate
the bushes to see what was on the other side. A green face greeted her. With long,
pointy ears, green eyes that resembled cats, which were wet from fresh tears, and a
small, pointy nose, a small, red hat covered his blonde hair.
“Hello.” Was all Izzy managed before the small boy limped off. But something
wasn’t right. He was dragging something with him. It looked like ribbon but when
Izzy saw the sun glint off it she soon realised it was something more vicious and
“Wait! No! Don’t run! Please, I want to help you!” Izzy shouted through the
woods after him.
She caught up with him quite quickly after losing her big, blue hat and stamping mud
up her dress. She had to jump on him to get him to stop.
He wriggled and struggled but she sat on him, using her body weight and looked where
the barbed wire snagged him. It was worse than she thought. It was through his
trousers and had pierced in his flesh in several different places.
She slowly pulled out the spikes from his leg, soothing him with words as she had
heard Nanny Rabbit use on her, once before.
New tears reached his eyes and streamed down his cheeks as she freed him from the
barbed wire. He wriggled from her grip and streaked off, darting between the tress.
“Wait!” She called and tried to run after him but her dress got caught on the
She laughed as she tugged herself free, ripping her blue dress in the process.
“I free someone and get caught myself!” She giggled and set off after him again.

Behind a thick tree trunk, hiding in the shadows, someone smiled after her. A
cunning, sly smile that no one is meant to see. Someone holding a big, blue hat in
their hand.

Alexandra_XD says:   13 May 2009   177272  
Nice! :-1
‹Emafie› says :   15 May 2009   197749  
thank-yhoo ^^


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