Not Another Love Story **ON HOLD**

The Garden

A/N Just to let you know this is still a draft but I hope you like it anyway =]

I zipped up my suitcase and sat on my flowery duvet cover with a hard sigh. Its only for a few days, I assured myself. I looked around my warm, sunny bedroom and smiled. Everything was perfect, from my school books all stacked tidily on my work-desk to my perfumes and hair-clips sitting in a heart-shaped bowl on the wooden vanity a few metres away. I rose from the soft quilt and walked gracefully over to the armchair that was placed in the corner of my room, and traced my fingertips over the woolen patchwork that sat folded on the arm of the small couch. I jumped slightly as a knock struck my hallow door and vibrated my room with a cold deep sound.

"May I come in?" A friendly voice arose from the other side of the door. I smiled slightly and skipped towards the door and opened it. My dad stood there happily with his arms behind his back like a Victorian butler. He had salt and pepper hair that, to me brought out the full extent of his beautiful brown eyes while warm, welcoming wrinkles covered the surface of his face, making him look even more of a kind, friendly person. He just wore a casual t-shirt and baggy jeans but to me it made me feel at home to know he wasn't going to dress up while inside a cozy secure house.

"Yes thou may." I beamed back.

"Ah, so thee are to use 1600 grammar?"

"Thou may use whatever grammar thou wishes." I giggled sweetly. My father was the only one who ever understood me and that was mainly because he was a fiction writer and used me as inspiration. It made me happy that I was his muse a lot of the time and even happier when he helped me through my small fits. My mind started travelling away at the thought and a panicked expression conjured up on dad's smooth face.

"Katherine please sit with me." He ordered softly as my mind suddenly took the images I was seeing and turned them to a mush. I turned around and followed dads hand towards the double bed. When I opened my eyes I suddenly sat in a Victorian garden with a long floating vintage dress covering my torso and legs. I had a hat over my head and a beautiful young woman held an umbrella over me to block the sun. I sat at a detailed table close by a cherry-blossom tree. Pink petals drifted through the spring breeze and I looked across to the handsome yet aged man sitting opposite me at this garden table.

"Katherine please sit with me." He smiled. I looked down at my dress.

"Yet we already be sitting." I glowed.

"Why yes we do." His expression turned frightened and a small frown of worry crossed my pale face. "Are you alright sir? I'm sorry, I don't recognise a name to your face."

"I am fine. I am sorry if my sudden change of expression startled you madam. I am a close friend of your father. You may not remember me, the last time we met you were but a little girl parading around in a small tiara that was too big for your cute little head and would slide down your golden hair." He smiled widely.

"Are you flirting with me sir?"

"On the contrary miss, are you flirting with me?" We sat there staring at each other for a few minutes but the silence felt as if welcomed. As if all the life and happiness in the world only spun around us. "I'm sorry, I never gave you a name. I am Duke Adam. As I said before I am a close friend of your fathers, he must be worried about you. You are so far from home, you should return." He bowed his head at me. I stood up and the lady holding the umbrella took a step back to give me room.

"But I am home. Am I not Sir?" A frustrated expression formed along my brow. He too stood and gracefully walked towards me.

"You are by a house, yet you are not near a home. Never shall this be your home yet a place for visits of any staying measure. Now, you should return to your home young one. Your father lay worried of your where-abouts." He smiled and nodded at me once more. I curtsied and turned, leaving.

I woke up on my bed with my dad sitting on the armchair. "How long?" I whispered, realising what had just happened.

"Only an hour this time, its fine." I sat up and stared at my reflection through the large mirror that rested on my vanity. My dress was folded just right and all the pleats were creasing in the correct places. The charm bracelet on my wrist had all the charms laid out exactly and my makeup was flawless. I sat up and walked towards the mirror. I took the lobster-clip out of my hair and picked up my brush. I stroked it through my hair, taking away every bump and imperfection I could find. I wrapped my golden locks around my fingers and pinned it back up making sure every hair stood correctly. After what must've been about 20 minutes of constant brushing, clipping then repeating I finally had my hair perfect and turned towards my door as a small squeak electrified the room. My mother stood there shaking her head at me. She was never happy with me, she never had been. I always seemed to embarrass her and it drove me to madness allot of the time. Unlike dad, she had to dress up for everything. She wore a blazer with dress pants and sensible heels. Her blond hair was done in a ponytail and her makeup was simple but definitely noticeable. Her wrinkles weren't as apparent as my fathers but they were there, just sitting under pounds of foundation and concealer.

"You had it right the first time." She walked in without invitation and sat on my desk-chair. I picked up my brush and placed it into a draw just for something to do to avoid talking.

"No, the fold at the back had unwanted creases." I announced slowly and silently.

"Can't you just be normal?" She said angrily. I never met her gaze, or dad's but I could feel them on me. I bit my lip and closed my eyes.

"There's no such thing as normal mother." I sighed, keeping my tone steady.

"Yes there is. And its not this."

"What's 'this'? Your acting like its actually a major problem." I turned and held her stare for a few seconds before dropping the glare that was full to the brim with hatred and disappointment.

"It is a major problem though! Can't we take you to the doctor?"

"Mum, we have talked about this allot, yesterday, this morning even. Please just leave me. I don't want to be medicated, end of story." I walked over and took my suitcase that still sat on my double bed and placed it on the ground, and finally rolled it out the room after smoothing out my bedspread, utter silence taking control of everything in the process. Instead of taking my bag to the lounge like I was supposed to, I placed it by my door and listened to the frantic whispers of my parents.

"She needs to be medicated John!"

"Its her decision. If she doesn't want to, then she doesn't have to."

"She has O.C.D and Psychosis! She needs medicine and a specialised doctor."

"She made her choice Lydia, we can't force her into a different one." I heard a quiet stomp and next thing dad stood opposite me in the hallway. "Ready to go?" He winked at me and I nodded with a half-smile.