Hi! I don't know exactly how time has passed since I published a story, but it's been a while... This one is a bit tragic, and I perfectly know that Mary would have never committed suicide, but I listened to "Princess die" by Lady Gaga and I had this idea.. I hope you like it:)
Princess die
I do not write anything because I have no one to write my last lament of life to. My mother is dead, my father too and with little Edward on the throne, who turned his back on me, I have no chance of success. Even Chapuys died and with him I lost my last safe refuge; I am alone among people, never too far people that desire nothing but my death.
And suddenly I want it too.
I look around the little room which I relegated myself in. They came to take my chaplain, they will come to take me too. I believe too much in God to deny him, I believe too much in God to not believe that I will see again my beloved after death, they are all there. I approach the glass of wine to my lips, it is unexpectedly flavorless the taste of poison… I stare at the paper in front of me while I start to feel short contractions to the stomach: it is still sadly blank. I am 27, without husband, without children, without any outlook… I never started to live a life, I am here by chance in a break that is lasting too much; it could not be sin ending a never started life. Another contraction, a stronger one now, I see little, I hold the feather in the hand too much. I feel it: I am dying. I die for loving Philip who had left me; I die for not being able of fighting in a world where it is pointless and I am tired of it; I die this way, as a treacherous before the sentence which would surely arrive.
I die like Dido, like Cato, like Wolsey.
I am Mary, a princess that dies, a princess that chooses to die.
This is what I choose to write in the end, in a little note, moving with difficulty the feather. I feel my energy leaves me, I hear knocking on the door, I hear confused voices and then I can not hear nor feel anything.
I see a light.
/
/
/
"Mary, what have you done?"
A worried voice comes to my ears, a hand sweetly touch me but I am not able to see anything at all, except the blinding light.
Maybe I am alive, maybe I am death.
Maybe this is Heaven, maybe this it Hell.
It does not matter.
I am crying, sobbing, smiling, laughing; I am thinking about nothing, I am feeling nothing.
And for a moment I am nothing.