Angeline was perched atop the branch on an oak tree reading Romeo and Juliet. She adored Shakespeare's passion for writing and wanted to be like him someday, but deep inside of her she knew she could never live up to that. She wanted to be Juliet and have her own Romeo. She longed for it and thought about it every day. "I wish I had someone to love," she whispered to herself and closed the book, folding the corner of the page down. She squeezed the book up against her chest and hoped out of the tree. She landed gracefully on the ground and flattened down the wrinkles in her dress. Her castle was perched precariously on top of a cliff in Ireland. The front yard was green pastures and the backyard was the cliff with blue, crashing waves below. She had an isolated life, living away from everyone and not going to her studies. She didn't have any true friends, only the messenger boy, but her looked far too old to be with her. Angelina had to admit, he was handsome, but she was sixteen and he was twenty.
"Angelina! Come quick! Your going to be late for supper!" Angelina's mother called to her from the second story window. Angelina quickened her pace 'till she reached the front door. The butler, knowing she was coming, opened the door for her and she walked inside. The scent of freshly baked bread and spices wafted up her nose.
"Smells wonderful, mother," Angelina said to her mother as she made her way down the cobblestone stairs.
"It was just made. Fresh from the oven, just the way you like it," her mother gave her a warm and inviting smile. "Come on," she gestured for Angelina to come into the kitchen where her delicious supper would be waiting for her.
After Angelina ate, she walked upstairs to her bedroom. Her blond, curly hair bounced up and down with each step she took. She had to lift up her dress a bit so she wouldn't step on the back of it and fall down. Angelina did that once before. She fell face first and smashed her nose onto the corner of the stone stair and broke it. Luckily she doesn't live near anyone. That would be quite embarrassing to go out into the market square with a blue and yellow bruised and battered nose.
"I set up the washroom for you!" Angelina's mother called to her as she made it to her room.
"Okay mother," she replied and walked into the washroom. Her servant was already waiting for her to get undressed and bathe her. Angelina did practically nothing in this house. The servants did everything and it really got under Angelina's skin. She felt lazy and worthless.
"Are you ready madam?" The lady asked.
"Yes." Angelina sighed and took off her dress and heels. When Angelina first got washed by someone else other than herself she felt self-conscious about her body. But she soon got used to it. She still felt uncomfortable around other people with no clothes on, but she didn't pay much mind to it.
Angelina stepped into the scorching hot tub of water and sank down into it. The servant leaned over her and started scrubbing Angelina with a cloth.
"How has you day been?" The lady asked Angelina.
"Normal. Nothing peculiar happened. I just read and...." Angelina paused. She was going to tell the servant that she wanted a man to love, but that would just be a little odd.
"And what?" The lady asked dumping hot water onto Angelina's hair.
"Nothing," she spluttered water out of her mouth.
"Here," the servant handed Angelina a towel and she wrapped it around her wet body. Angelina nodded to the lady and she opened the door for her. When she walked into her room she noticed that her window over her bed was opened and the curtains were billowing in the sweet, spring breeze.
"I don't remember leaving the window open," Angelina said to herself and walked over to the window and closed it. On her way over to her dresser, something shiny and metallic caught her eye. She looked over to the shiny thing on her bed and saw that it was an envelope. Weird, Angelina thought.
She grabbed the note and carefully sliced it open with her finger. She took out the letter and unfolded it.
Hello Angelina,
You don't know me, but I sure know you. Your beautiful. I love you, but I just count'nt say it to your face. So, I wrote you this letter. I love how your eyes sparkle in the sun and the way your golden hair bounces around your head when you walk, like a halo. Your beautiful and I wish we could get to know each other, but things just can't work out between us.
Love, anonymous
Angelina set the not down on her lap and had a look of confusion on her face. Who is this? She thought. Who loves me?
***I keep deleting my stories and writing new ones, but I'll stay with this story!***
