Authors note: I am almost getting bored at saying thanks to my reviewers. I will still do it. To answer some questions: I have absolutely no idea how long this story is going to turn out in the end. But you and I will see. I am rather proud of it and it might remain my only Shrek fanfiction. And as you all encourage me so much, well, lets see what is to come. What else? Any questions – feel free to ask me. Oh and know what – during my last two chapters I somehow got fond of Captain Hook – just a statement, does not necessarily mean that he is to appear again. Thisis Lillians story after all! Oh and there is no happiness indeed in this chapter. But had you not expected that much? Okay, as a reread it – this is my personal, deprimating best – I do not want to have the "Werther-effect" on you – so please this is just a story written by a lunatic girl. Thanks!
All I wanted to do, was forget. To fall into the dark abyss of forgetfullness that is called sleep and not having to think about this day, or the one before, or the one before that. Oh what blessing it would be to simply wake up and find out that all had just been a bad dream. But that would never happen. I had always been a realist. But only reality could hurt you that much!
I tried to think of something happy, but the present looked at me out of dark and hopeless eyes. Not to mention the future, which could only get worse.
My daughter was dead. My son-in-law had run off to hide from the face of the world and possibly to rest in peace somewhere in a swamp. My husband hated me and, lets face it, he had every reason to. I even felt how far away my granddaughter was to me, unreachable, like a pure star.
All I still had to remember was the past. But were memories really worth living for?
The mirror seemed to mock me. It showed me an aging woman who had once been pretty, even beautiful. She still was tall and slender and her dress was exquisite. But her grey hair seemed lank and listless. Her forehead was wrinkled, her brows furrowed and around her mouth there was a sense of bitterness, lips pressed tightly and unmovingly together. Her face seemed hollow, ashen and her cheeks sunken in. And her eyes were dead, nothing more than two green spots with smaller black spots in them.
And it made me sad. Because I had known her once. Because she had been young and pretty and charming. A good listener and a kind, helpful woman. Because she had adored and loved her husband. Because she had cared for her kingdom and all the creatures that lived in it. Because she had been blessed with a wonderful daughter, even though she had given her up for the greater good.
And I hated her. Because I knew she had gone. And that she would never return again.
I stood beside myself as I watched how I smashed the mirror onto the floor. And it burst into hundreds of sharp, triangular pieces. What were seven years without luck to her?
I picked up one of the larger pieces. One of the sharp edges sliced into my hand. I dropped it and saw a small drop of blood come out of the wound. I did not actually feel the physical pain, only saw the dark-red liquid and hear the sound when the drop landed on the floor.
"How would it be?" I asked myself. A part of me was ashamed of it. I, the strong one, the independent woman, who had always enjoyed, or at least taken life as it was. I was thinking of suicide.
It would all simply end. No more worries. No more pain. No more feeling this loneliness.
An escape route. A way out of this mess.
But it was cowardly. And I knew that. And it was a sin, another one.
And despite all of my selfishness, I knew that I would hurt people. Well, not many of them, but the few who still mattered. No, I thought about it, only one left, it would hurt only one to whom I mattered.
Fiona was dead. Shrek was too absorbed in his self-pity, if he had not decided the commit what I was thinking about, already. And Rose was too small, she did not understand – and later she could not grieve for a grandmother she had not known.
It was because of Harold. Why did it always have to be for him? But it was. Even considering all of our differences, the deep split that lay in our relationship, the thought of possibly having lost him forever. He was the one that kept me alive and going, that gave me some sort of purpose, of meaning.
And there was my sense of responsibility. That had always been there. I could not simply leave my granddaughter with only her grandfather who happened to be a frog, as a family. And I could not leave my kingdom to a fate unknown, to the use and abuse of greedy, violent neighboring kings.
I lay the mirror splinter aside. The two things that make us human beings live: Responsibility and Love, made me keep going.
"Lillian" I swiftly turned around, although I would have recognized that croak anywhere. He looked at me out of these sad brown eyes and I knew my decision had been right.
Nervously I started to collect the mirror pieces. "Leave it." Harold ordered me. "The servants will clean it up." I stood up straightly. His tone got more soft, almost caring. "We should talk"
