The Life of a Princess

Chapter 1 - A Seventeen-Year-Old Princess

[This chapter is edited]

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"Worrying does not empty tomorrow of its troubles, it empties today of it strength." - Unknown

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You have wanted to be a princess at least once in your life.

No?

Liar, we all know you have.

There is only person on the entire earth that could answer no and still be truthful, and that, my friends, is me: Sophia, the fucker you're stuck with for the rest of this story.

And don't go all, "there are more princesses out there than you" on me, because if you haven't noticed already, I am an honest person. I speak straight from the encyclopedia.

And I'm not going to go with a microscope over my appearance, you don't need that. I am the Princess of England, that's a good start and basically all you need to know.

Well, there is more, but this is no biography.

This is my story.

It all started in a dressing room the 22nd of August 2014. The weather, I did not know since I had been locked inside the castle all day. Servants were everywhere and nothing was in order, except my brain which could see all the mess. It wasn't necessary at all, the decorations, the food and technically the whole party that was happening. I just wanted a day off, not a whole event in honor of my birth. I mean, seriously, we were celebrating the day I was pushed out of a woman's vagina. Why not congratulate the woman who actually did the job?

"No, no way in hell." I glared at Mum but she just shook her head and propped her hands on her hips.

"What do you mean, Sophia? This looks gorgeous on you."

My mum, a.k.a the queen of England, was the bossiest woman on earth. Kind of ironic judging by her title, but she would have been bossy either way, queen or not. She loved dad, prunes and making my life miserable. You would never find her with a hair our of place or an outfit costing less than 200 pounds. Her duties were her life just as much as her life was duties and so she never had time to do anything other than being queen.

I wanted to puke all over her and did so internally where I stood. The dress was so hideous, not even a hobo would accept it. I looked like a walking pumpkin, just that I wasn't wearing a green hat for the stem. Mum was, as per usual, blind and deaf and didn't ever consider my opinions. She always took her role in the country way too far and into the family, and even though we already had a king, Dad wasn't really the backbone.

"Mum, it's ridiculous. Just look at it," I complained, but she wasn't convinced. However, the servants who had put it on me today had been eyeing it strangely. They didn't say anything, though.

"That's quite enough," she quipped and left the room. That's what she always did, leaving before anyone else got the last word. She was stubborn and bitchy.

I guess that's where I got it from.

I stepped off the platform, pushing the girls who were fixing the last details on the dress away. My legs were already tired from standing so long on it and I was longing to go to sleep.

"Oh my," I heard from the doorway. I turned around and there she was: my lifesaver.

"You can say that again," I groaned and tugged at one of the thousands layers of tool hanging from my waist. Gemma was the one person I could stand in this castle with the exception of me. She was my servant and she did everything for me without being a pain in the ass in addition - which was rare.