Prologue: Storms
We were frail
She said "Every night he will break your heart"
I should have known from the first I'd be the broken hearted
But I loved you from the start
Save us...
And not all the prayers in the world-could save us
-Storms, Fleetwood Mac
The girl was awake. She had not been awake moments before, but she was now. She was also covered in a cold sweat, shivering and uncomfortable. She had been... dreaming? About... something.... she couldn't quite remember what exactly she had been dreaming about. She remembered nothing... except... a leftover sense of urgency from her dream. She had to find something... Wondering exactly what it was she needed to find, the girl drifted back into an uneasy sleep.
The king was angry. He lay on his bed, and ignored everything. Vases, expensive ones, flew through the air, only to shatter against the walls. Things exploded, a storm brewed, and the goblins hid. The king was angry. He was also tired, and ill, and hurt. It was not a physical pain, though. It was a very different kind of ache that the king had. For, the girl who even now slept and dreamt as he could not, has broken something. Something deep inside him, something very precious, and something many doubted he had. His heart.
The baby woke up. Where was the funny man? Where were those funny creatures? He missed them. He did not want to be here, in this dull place, alone and trapped. The baby began to cry.
The woman walked swiftly through the park. It was late- too late to be out in a neighborhood as dangerous as this. Still, she was already halfway home, she had to go on. Distracted by thoughts of movies, and money, and contracts and, dare she even hope, fulfilled dreams, she didn't notice the men. And she didn't notice the knife.
The girl tossed and turns, the king raged, the baby wailed, all as the woman bled. Life seeped out of her as hope, and dreams, and happiness seeped out of the others. They were not the only ones in pain. The storm raged on, fueled by hurt and pain. People cowered and wept and lamented. There was no hope, there are no dreams, there will be no happiness. It was a bad night.
A/N: Quite short isn't it? Yes, I am re-vamping the story. It was bad. Just plain bad. Yuck. So, here is the prologue. I appear to have lost the e-mail address of my beta reader, so if you happen to read this please e-mail me! (my e-mail address is in my profile) Or, if someone else would like to beta read my story you can e-mail me too. I need someone harsh, good with grammar, good with the English language in general, and picky. I don't want this to grow into a monstrosity like it did last time.
DISCLAIMER: Hmmmm….. I don't really specifically mention anyone, well I do but I don't say their names, so I guess you could say that I own them… Okay. I don't own anything. Happy?
