Loves Me Not

[Malocchio 983]

Loves Me Not

 

The sunlight slips through the worn ceiling’s crack like any other morning -- yet this one was apparently different. I was beyond tired. I would gladly compare this feeling of exhaustion to what I’d think a gypsy experienced in her day-to-day life of relentless travelling. Wriggling my fingers in pursuit of the blankets covering my sickly frame, I realized something very familiar was missing… My ring. It wasn’t hard to notice it’s absence after it had remained in the same place for decades upon decades upon decades. The honest love of my life once gifted me that particular ring and I treasured it like a common mother treasures her offspring.

      “Missed you, love.”

      I felt his warm hand caress my cheek as if a plaintive greeting. He already knew I was aware of his wrongdoings. The man had known me since I was but a young girl; so fresh, pure and unaware of the dangers this world and its people possessed. I had fallen deeply in love with him. You could say it was love at first sight, as I do, for it is the only love I’ve ever known. My childhood heart; my beau, my husband, the man I once sought to be the father of the children I’d never be able to have.

      “You’re ten minutes late to the meeting, Marja. Better hurry in; heard he was complaining about faulty members or something of the like,” said the voice of a dear companion, proclaiming that my love was angry with my accidental absence to collective of acquaintances.

      Our marriage wasn’t perfect. In the beginning, in my days of youth, it felt perfect. It truly was the thought that counted all along. We were madly in love with one another or at least so I thought. I was in love with him, undoubtedly, and when he had propped open the onyx box in which contained the ring I was currently missing - I was infatuated to no end.

      “Where is my ring?”

      I blinked a few times, snapping out of my hazy, mid-morning daydream. I had forgotten all about the lavender tea I had begun brewing, set atop the fire pit nestled into our home’s wall. Well, it was once our home. Now it was an abandoned keep; we sought to create something out of the meager village rested high in the snow-covered mountains yet we were far too busy in our… lives to settle down in one place. I should’ve known, as I was used to travelling place to place.

      In honesty, I am unsure why I am rambling in this journal - but I’ve always taken to writing as a coping mechanism. You see, it is… hard - being alone. I am someone not used to having no one at my side. As a babe, my grandfather cared dearly for me although he did take occasional monthly disappearance doing who knows what. I didn’t blame him. Grandfather wasn’t the most understanding of individuals but he always did what was right - even when it came to the event of leaving me, alone, to live my life with my husband who began to physically harm me.

 

That’s another story for a different time.

 

[Character mentioned in the story: Joanna Paige]

[NotEvilAtAll 10906]

Madeline Applebrook the halfling would most certainly have not seen or heard of this journal of which this information was inscribed, and thus she would continue with her happy life in Pendlemere-by-Cotton-Lake.

 

However, if she were to have seen this journal, she would shed but a single test down her right cheek as she would read the part concerning loneliness, for reasons only Lord Knox could know why...

[gandalfo 1452]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.