20/01/2009 17:16:00
Part Two: Epilogue
"September 4, 1941
"Dear Journal,
"This new world, this place called "school" is very thrilling and different, as well as scary all at the same time. I do not know what to make of it, now that this is my home now, and I shall NEVER return to Narnia. However, I only have to do this school thing for a year, thank heavens. In the many years that I have been alive, I have finally had a full name of my own: Amber Rose Evans. I believe it to be fitting, and original, and Peter likes it very much and Lucy can't stop repeating it. This so called school is very puzzling, I have to say. The professors, or as they are called "teachers", are very strict and I really hate the rules that have been put in place. But, what drives me insane is that Susan, Lucy and I go to a school separate from Edmund and Peter; however, they are across the road and during free periods and days off we are allowed to meet at the park toward the end of the road. I don't really mind it much, it is very easy to sneak out of the school, since my dormitory happens to be on the first floor and there are rarely any monitors in the halls. To my surprise, Susan and I are roommates. Already, Susan has had to help me with the whole "homework" and the concept of almost everything I have been taught. I never knew that there are cells that make up every part of my body, I learned that in a class called Biology. Many of the, let's say, "popular" girls (as Susan and Lucy call them) are extremely jealous and envious of me. Me, being the new person around these parts, still hasn't figured out why. I do believe my father is watching out for me, he has provided every possible excuse for how I am. Amnesia, permanent memory loss, is the diagnosis, I guess, I have. Which, for these people, explains a lot since I have no idea what I am writing with, my parents, my family, and anything to do with years before I came to the school. What I find puzzling even more than this land, which I need to start calling London, England, is that the scars on my body hadn't disappeared like my Narnian clothes and things. But, like all great fathers, Aslan provided the school with a reason for that: a major car, whatever that is, accident which killed my parents and hospitalized me, where I "woke up" with amnesia and the cuts on my body. Well, I better start on this "homework" thing before Susan gets even more angry than she already is. Night.
"-Amber
"September 20, 1941
"Dear Journal,
"I finally understand why Lucy, Peter, and Edmund dread school: exams and the loads of homework that piles up and up and up. I still don't understand half this stuff and my teachers are starting to get really angry with me, which they will just have to get used to. I never learned this so called "geometry" and I'm struggling with the whole "gym" thing. I understand how the numbers correspond to the shapes, and I am, apparently, "physically challenged" says my gym teacher. It's not my fault that the White (scribbles) person sliced my back and the (scribbles) Telma-people raided Narnia. Oh wait, according to them, that never happened. It's not the car accidents fault that my body is crippled, but whatever, I'll make them rue the day they "failed" me. Peter is still laughing at me, since I still have no idea as to what half the stuff in London is. He and his siblings have tried to explain it in "simple terms" (as they have been putting it), but obviously I am not taking in this important stuff. But it'll take time, as my Biology teacher says (since she is the only decent teacher I've met that can understand and help me learn this stuff because of the amnesia), many things do. Well, besides "school", Susan had to help me with what woman in this world, or Earth, call "the time of the month". I nearly fainted the first time I got that, and when Susan explained to me what it meant, I pretty much had a heart attack. She's also taught me that this thing called a "bra" must be worn almost twenty-four seven, I don't really care, I'm usually more preoccupied with figuring out everything else in this world to give a damn. Will write soon, probably after the Harvest Festival since both Peter and my schools are getting together to celebrate this year's harvest.
"-Amber
"October 31 1941
"Dear Journal,
"Journal, please don't be angry with me for not writing in ages. My schedule has become so busy that I haven't had the time to actually sit down and write, and for that, I am very, very sorry. I've been spending more time on my studies and since that cuts in my personal time, I've been sleeping more. As these long, and strange days continue on, I can't help but feel the amnesia even more and here and there, I feel jolts of siring pain shoot up and down my spine. I wish I never had been stubborn in that fight a while back, it would've saved me a lot of suffering. The Harvest Festival was fun, Peter and I snuck away for a while and I think you can guess what happened them (no worries, I took precautions since I've been getting the monthly thing which is the worst thing in the world I have to say). I've made a few friends, that will hang out with me that aren't the Pevensies. Their names are Sarah and Loran, they've also been cutting into my personal time as well. I don't mean to replace you! Well, now that you are caught up, today is a special holiday called Halloween. This holiday actually last a few days and is combined with other days in the month of November. We don't have classes over the next three days, which I am very happy about. The people of England are celebrating All Saints Day tomorrow and then All Souls Day is the day after. After those celebrations, there's Mischief Night (on the 5th) which is the day were we are to dress up and disguise ourselves so that the ghost and ghouls can't recognize us as humans and go around causing pranks and demanding candy. A lot of the older kids don't dress up for the candy, but they do it for tradition and the belief in the religion. But, the night I can't wait for is Bonfire Night. Everyone is let out of school to join in celebration yet again (I guess this world celebrates a lot…). Fireworks will be shot off and huge bonfires will be up. How romantic it sounds in some ways, though that's not the real reason they do it. Hope to write soon, time to get some sleep before Susan throws something at me to turn the light off.
"-Amber Rose
"December 23, 1941
"Dear Journal,
"Okay, I get it, you are now officially angry at me, but you have no right to be. I've been working on my studies almost all day and all night and I am finally grasping the whole concept and am passing nearly all my classes. My gym teacher is still failing me, but whatever I don't care. I took it up with the headmaster, or the "boss", of the school and I am no longer in that class since they have finally given in to the fact that the car accident left me too crippled to participate in that class. Now I can probably write more since I have another free period to get a lot of my work done. The holidays I talked about in my last entry were fun, though they set me way behind in my school work and Susan said, quoted: "Stop messing around with my brother and get to work". What a bitch, but whatever, I guess she's sort of right in some ways. But I can't seem to keep myself away from Peter for more than a day or two. There's just something there, connecting us and making it border-line impossible to say away. Edmund says we're lucky we haven't been caught yet. Personally, I'd like to see them try and keep us apart, I can take them, I've got some skills y'know. This amnesia is starting to get on my nerves, I keep rereading my last entries and I can't seem to remember what I was talking about; my father died in a car accident and "Narnia", what kind of place is that. I must've had a weird dream, or nightmare, when I wrote those. But every time I gaze out the window of my dormitory and up at the stars, I can't' help but feel like a part of me is slipping away into a dark abyss and being replaced by something that makes some sense. Peter believes that I am finally feeling the major side effects of the amnesia, the emptiness and the never ending confusion. Enough of that, tomorrow is Christmas Eve and then Christmas Day follows. Lucy has told me some great stories about Christmas in the Pevensie family as well as read me some of the novels from the library. I really like the idea of mistletoe and sleigh rides though a park with flakes of snow casually falling to the white snow on the ground. I wonder if anything is going to happen, I got my friends a little something, nothing major since I can't really remember them well enough to know what they'd like for Christmas. Anyways, me writing in you is your holiday present. So, Happy Christmas.
"-Amber Rose Evans
"May 11, 1942
"Dear Journal,
"I'm getting really bad at keeping up with writing. I lost you for a while then we had half-year exams followed by a lot of studying and things. I have to keep this short, but everything is starting to come around and is starting to have a positive effect on my life. That emptiness feeling I was feeling before has completely gone away. Okay, it's not just studies that have been keeping me away. I've been a bad girl and have been sneaking out of the school more than usually to see Peter down at the empty park during the day. It just can't help it, I feel so venerable when he's not around and I don't care what Susan thinks, just because she doesn't have a caring and wonderful boyfriend like I do. Sucks to be a know-it-all. My studying has really paid off, I haven't failed a single quiz or test at all the past couple terms and the holidays have been relaxing since I mostly study, sneak off, eat and sleep. I hope that I won't lose you again, it is nice to be able to vent at times.
"-Amber Rose Evans
"July 21, 1942
"Dear Journal,
"Studies, is all I have to say to you so there. Anyways, it is finally the end of the school terms and the whole school things. Peter and I have already planned on getting an apartment in the city since many are available. Over the past few nights, I couldn't help but realize I haven't mentioned the most frightening thing about living in England: there's a war going on in Europe. World War Two. We've had a few bomb scares and drills ever since the continuous raids from the German Nazis which had stopped a few months before I had been released from the hospital to go to school and live my life. I never knew that war could be so brutal and terrifying, I hope it ends soon for every country's sake. Well, I have actually passed my one year of schooling, which is a huge success even though I don't plan on using anything I learned in a career. I haven't even decided on what I'm going to do for money, I guess that's sort of Peter's job huh, it doesn't hurt to help. Will write again soon.
"-Amber Rose Evans
"July 30, 1942
"Dear Journal,
"This will be my last entry, I have found a new source to write to a I hope that you understand that it is more important to me than you will ever be. You have been helpful throughout the tough year of my life since the accident that took my memory away. I will spare you knowledge of whom I will be writing to, since I don't need more people trying to kill him. Good-bye forever.
"-Amber Rose Evans
Amber Evans closed her scarlet journal, part of her pained to see it be shut away into a drawer to be stowed away until it would be needed again, which was going to be never. The past year in London, England and in school changed her a lot, but never did it damage the bond between her and Peter Pevensie: they were inseparable no matter what. But, "no matter what" wasn't enough to keep them together for long. She shut the drawer and returned to the table in the kitchen area of her and Peter's apartment where a piece of line paper lay unscathed with a pencil sharpened beside it. Taking the pencil in hand, Amber began to write to a new person:
Dear Peter,
It has only been a week and I still miss the warmth of your body lying next to mine and the sweet sound of your voice every morning. I have a strong feeling that this war will end soon and bring you home safely to me. Please, do not worry about me, worry more about yourself and your peers around you. From what I have read in numerous books, war is a cruel and brutal time. I will be fine, I can find a job, how difficult can it be? Your mother has been checking in from time to time, occasionally asking if I would come and keep her company since she is all alone in Finchley, but I haven't had a chance to get down there yet. Susan, Lucy and Edmund said they'd come by during holidays to visit. But, please, stay safe and write to me as soon as possible. I love you Peter, and no matter how long you are over there, that will never ever change. Please, come home in one piece, I'll accept two depending on what you're missing.
With lots and lost of love,
Amber XOXOXO
Amber sealed the letter in an envelope and left the apartment to mail it. Rain poured from the dark, towering clouds above and a slightly chill breeze swept through the sidewalk as she headed to the mailbox. The rain couldn't bring her down any lower than she already was, there was probably nothing that could. She kissed a blank spot on the front of the envelope and slid it through the slot before returning into the shelter of the apartment building. However, before she went to the lift, Amber glanced out the glass doors and her eyes widened. The second before she blinked, she swore she could've seen a large golden lion sitting across the street with his long mane soaking wet. A tear swam down her cheek as she sent a prayer up to those above to let the lion she saw protect Peter from death, whatever the cost. All that mattered now was that he returned home.
Years began to pass by, and letters passed between them weekly until one fateful day when no more letters came. That same day, a military man knocked on Amber's door. "Hello?" Amber asked, approaching the door and looking through the small peep hole.
"Ms. Evans?" the man replied stepping back from the door.
"Yes?" she undid the chain on the door and pulled it open. The military man stepped forward again and held out a piece of paper, which he placed in her palm. Amber read the writing and looked up in disbelief, her gold eyes beginning to gloss with water.
"I am sorry for your loss," he said and turned and left without saying another word. Amber backed into her apartment, her hand trembling with the paper clenched in a fist. The door shut quietly behind her as she stepped toward the couch in the living area. There, she sat releasing the paper from the tight grip and rereading it over and over again, hoping that this was some little lie. However, after an hour of rereading the same message she rose from her seat and picked up the telephone. Hesitantly, she dialed a number and when a woman on the other end answered, she began to cry.
"Mrs. Pevensie," she said, and the woman recognized her immediately. "I just received a message… Peter has been killed in action."
End Part Two Epilogue
Part Three Prologue:
An incantation rang through the silent wood, thousands of voices murmured to themselves as a flash of light blue light illuminated the vacant space between the sleeping trees. And then, it began to snow in the middle of summer. The heat ceased to warm and ice froze the lakes, rivers, and ocean. And even time began to slow until the sun stayed put at an angle in the sky, never changing position and the sky never darkening to dusk or night. A great lion sat perched on the highest tower of the newly built Cair Paravel. His amber eyes scanned the freezing realm and sighed as everything began to take a turn for the worst. Many enemies had fallen in the absence of the Pevensies and Princess Amber, but those that befriended the rulers of Old still lived and will continue to live until the spell freezing the world was lifted. The lion took a deep breath and roared into the everlasting day, calling to an old enemy that had reentered the world from the beyond and was challenging them. However, the lion's roar wasn't answered and his face saddened even more than it had been. A faint breeze ruffled his mane as he rose to his mighty paws to return into the lower levels of the new castle. But before he entered the sanctuary of the castle, the lion gazed up at the light gray sky and mused, "Time will foretell the future of this land. Memories is the key to both good and bad, only time will tell which will be favored."