Sound of Love

Welcome reader, to the realm of stories. This is a place to become lost in ones own imagination as you create a world around my words. The sentences I write are the base structure for your own personal skyscraper, reaching as far as you will allow. I am not the creator of this realm, you are, so welcome creator, to your realm. I hope you enjoy your stay, and do be imaginative.

To begin lets start withOnce Upon A Time…

“...in a land very near, there was a beautiful kingdom where flowers bloomed all year.

It was the best kingdom you’ve ever seen, ruled by a handsome king and a beautiful queen. The king and queen ruled the kingdom with hard work, kind hearts and with care….”

My hand came up to my mouth involuntarily, unconsciously attempting to stifle my giggle. “This is so cute, they want to teach the naughty princess a lesson.” I replaced the “unprincess” book to its original location.

Sometimes, in my spare time, I’ll read a few books from my childhood, the ones the nannies taught me to read. I had to learn to read early because every night I demanded to be read a bedtime story. Of course the, everchanging, nannies shifts were ending and Daddy was always ‘busy’. So, one day, during my play time, I asked my new nanny to teach me to read. I would read to myself if I had to. I could be quite stubborn when I wanted to be.

I giggled at myself, again. I suppose I have learned quite well how to keep myself entertained.

Of course the nannies were not the only ‘everchanging’ employees of Daddy’s. Daddy always replaced employees he thought had been here ‘too long’. Sometimes I worry, in my spare time, for him. He wholehearted believes if he gets attached to anyone they will take something of importance from him. Ever since Mommy anyway.

Except me. Whenever father finds the time to be in the U.S. he’ll come see me. I don’t know how he does it but he manages to smother me and ignore me at the same time. He is very affectionate and kind, but he is a business man and when he is here, after a short reunion, he will return to working in his study. Although if he has to do anything outside the house he will call me and talk the whole car ride, no matter the distance. He tries to make up for not being home so often by spoiling me. Sending the best of the best, always. I was never into those kinds of things though, and the fact that he doesn’t now I’d rather listen to a record than the newest pop C.D. hurts me more every time. But I never tell him it bothers me. I know it would crush him. So I just stash most of it away with the countless clothes I’ve never worn in my walk-in closet.

I breathe in a long breath into my lungs, through my nose, concentration on every movement and moment. Its an exercise I taught myself whenever I start to think too much. I let all my thoughts leave as I exhale, though I can feel the remnants linger at the back of my mind.

I must distract myself.  I think to myself as I head from my personal library on the second floor to my room, on the last floor, of course we only have four floors.

Once inside my room I head to the corner, which opens up to a small room, about the size of my closet. Nobody else knows about this hidey hole, no one ever stayed long enough to find it. Naturally this is where I spend most of my time, I have a private collection of my favorite books and notebooks strewn everywhere on top of a mattress with sleeping bags and blankets. My heaven. I quickly grab a book and close the door to the hidey hole.

I head out of the silent, monstrous house, running down a familiar path, looking over my shoulder to see if anyone has seen me leave. They haven’t.

I laugh zealously, joyously. throwing my light brown curly hair over my shoulder and letting it fly in the wind.

…