Finding Love in the Thames

1. The Meeting

I have never thought of what death would be like before. Now that it is here and I am lying in a pool of crimson, I guess I could say it is something I am welcoming. With the pain I am going through, dying is a sweet thought or even a luxury. It is not as harsh as people think. Death itself is a little calming, it is the pain that makes death seem scary. I believe the sweetest part of my death is that it is for someone else. Not for prejudice, not for sorrow, but for love. I am sure it sounds full of amorous intentions, but truly? I was not planning this. I never have thought of my death, especially this soon. You know, I'm only nineteen.

I'm sure by now you're wondering how all this started, so I'll leave it to my journal to explain:

September 1, (1849) (<-edit)

(Please note that the writer of this story does not have prejudice against Americans. It is the character that does.)

This is the day that all the leaves had fallen off their trees, and London is as gray as the hair on an old man. The Thames River is where my house remains and fairly close to where I work. My mum has always had a calling to the river, no one knows why, not even Dad. I presume we all have a connection with it in London. It is calming save for the boats that transport petty Americans. Even they cannot ruin the beauty of the Thames.

My mum smiles at me as I walk through the door, on a mission. Mum always flaunts her beauty even though she has been wed to my father. As a mother's boy, I would say she would be beautiful even if she wore peasent's clothes. Her blonde hair bounces as she walks away with grace. I have been told that my attractiveness has come from my mother. Some call me attractive, however, I don't believe that matters in my case. I am, after all, a prince. My money is the only thing women care about. Quite often it prickles my skin to know that women only throw themselves at me for my money.

I wish to marry for love, though, nowadays, I believe love is an unreachable goal. It is merely just chance.

I walk slowly by the riverside, enjoying the sun rising over the Thames. My pocket watch swings in the soft wind as I wander down the dirt path. A woman giggles behind me and I did not have to glance to know she was looking at me.

Putting on a charming smile, I turn around on my heel to see a beautiful woman holding a blush pink parasol, "Good day," I nod my head politely as she giggles and twirls her parasol, her dress puffs at the bottom with a magenta lace. Her waist is thin most likely because of a corset, only hidden by a flowery fabric.

"On a day such as this, a handsome man is rare to find by Thames! What is your business here?" she giggles, her heels click as she makes her way to me.

I smile curtly as she curtsies and flutters her eyelashes, "I came here to find my wife." At this her shoulders slump and her smile fades away.

I continue to walk on, my hands plunged thoroughly inside my pockets. I know how to lead them on, or even let them down. It is not hard for me to know what they are after. I look up at the bridge in all its beauty; The elegance still here since I was a child.

Something catches my eye, a couple where the man holds the woman's hands. He violently whips her around and grabs her chin, forcing her to stare down at the river. She struggles, a pained expression on her flawless face. Suddenly, he pushes her halfway of the bridge, only barely holding on to her. At this I run to the side of the bridge and plan exactly right.

He pushes her off the bridge. It goes over in my head as time plays in slow motion. She falls continuously as I count... One... Two... Three. I leap into action, catching her in my arms before she impacts with the water. She screams even underwater, then goes limp. I pull us from the river bank and put my hand to her cheek. Her chest rises and falls as I give a relieved sigh. Dripping wet, I glance back up at the man she was with who glares at me, then walks away.