Sleeping Beauty-ish

A Great Discovery

Hey guys, this is fallensnow02, back from the dead!!! Anyway, this is just a short little story I found while digging through the musty old archives of my computer...anyway, I hope you like it (and I'll be right back to that Scorose story). Anyway, to the story!!

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My home is a suitcase. It has been ever since I was six, when my mom divorced my dad for reasons she wouldn't explain to her little boy, and disappeared into the world. I haven't seen her since, and I don't necessarily want to. Last I heard, she'd remarried and had another little boy. Five years old. His name was Theodore, but when I saw her at his elementary school, she was kissing his forehead good-bye and saying "See you after school, Teddy." That was six years ago.

She used to do that to me, but hey, why would she now? She's got a daughter now, a year younger than me, and now little Teddy. Needless to say, I'm a little bitter.

So now I'm educated on the go. Egypt, France - all over Europe. My dad's a famous archaeologist, and I'm his assistant. Right now he's on the trail of some princess's tomb, based off of a legend he heard somewhere. I personally think it's ridiculous. It's just a legend, after all.

But here we were, digging around a newly-discovered castle in a remote part of England. I think the name of the city was Evershire, or something. I was filthy and sick and tired of digging.

"Dad, come on," I shouted. "You still don't have any proof there's actually a princess's tomb here."

My father sighed. "Jack, that's what you've been saying for the past year." (That's right, we'd been digging here for a year.)

"And you still haven't told me why we came here aside from 'a hunch'."

"Just trust me, Jack, this one's big, okay?"

That's when I got angry. "You know, some dads actually spend time with their kids instead of having one-sided conversations that are only held during digging expeditions. Some dads take their kids to Lakers games, and don't care if they voice their opinions or not." I stood up. "I'm going to get some coffee." I stormed away, ignoring my dad's protests. He'd probably just go right back to his digging. I didn't actually go to get some coffee, though. I made it all the way to the back of the castle, shuffling my feet along the ground, before finally stopping and kicking the ruins in exasperation.

The ruins, being ruins, collapsed inwards. The grayish sunlight of England did absolutely nothing to illuminate the room, and technically, Dad hadn't told me not to explore the inside of the castle, even though it had already been discovered. Shrugging, I grabbed my pocket flashlight, which I always kept clipped to my belt (don't judge me, I'm an archaeologist's kid) and walked through the hole I'd made in the ruins, praying the ceiling wouldn't fall down on my head.

Apparently I'd kicked down the wall to the throne room, because a rotting, dusty large chair that still managed to inspire a slight fear in whoever witnessed it was just in front of me (well, the back was, anyway). A moldy old carpet, the edges frayed with time, led outside of the chair.

"Freaky," I whispered. I could totally picture a king sitting on that chair, listening to his petitions. Faded and musty tapestries adorned the stone walls. I walked along the halls, shining my flashlight down every hallway, until I found one with paintings of the royals. "Cool," I whispered. My footsteps echoed down the hallway. Most of them were of adults, the king and queen painted in extravagant robes, their crowns on top of their heads. Then I arrived at five that were different.

There was no queen in the king's portrait here, just the king, who had murky, sad- looking blue eyes. He looked as if he would die of grief soon - had his wife died? She must have, otherwise she would have been in the portrait with him. Then I noticed the dusty plaque beneath his portrait, like there was with all the portraits - and it didn't have a death date.

Born 1328 -

The next portrait, of a small five-year-old boy who was playing with a toy, was the same. Had someone forgotten to put the death dates?

There was a seven-year-old girl, sitting atop a small horse with a broad smile, and then, at the very end of the line, a girl who looked to be about my age, with fair skin and auburn hair like the girl who must be her sister. She looked solemn, and wasn't smiling, unlike her siblings. She wore a pale blue dress, and she had a small altar beneath her.

May Princess Rosalyn Sleep Peacefully.

That was strange. "Sleep" peacefully? Usually it was "rest in peace". Was this some kind of creepy Sleeping Beauty? I looked at the altar and found a journal on it. I flipped open the cover with the end of my flashlight. The pages didn't look like they would crumble on sight; in fact, they looked like they were preserved perfectly. The handwriting was neat and I desperately wanted to read this journal. It had to have been this weird Princess Rosalyn's.

Maybe it had, somehow, belonged to the little brother and the little sister, too.

"Jack! Jack, are you in here?" my dad demanded. "You know that digging sites are notoriously unstable. Come out of there!"

I glanced around and finally, apologizing to Rosalyn mentally, I stuffed her journal inside of my jacket before walking out of the castle. "Look, Dad, I'm sorry I kicked in the wall, but..."

"What wall, Jack?" My dad looked exasperated, and as I turned around, I didn't see the castle anymore. I saw a grassy hill with a hole in the side of it.

"But - but there was a castle here, just a few minutes ago - " I stammered, blinking, but Dad just sighed.

"I know you're upset, Jack, but you know full well the castle's several miles away, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't wander off during my expeditions."

"What about the princess's tomb?" I asked him.

"We're digging over here for it because we found shards of rock here that matched the rock that built up the castle, not because we think there's a castle over here, Jack. Honestly!"

I sighed. "Okay, Dad. Whatever."

"Don't sneak off again, okay?"

I looked behind me as we walked away, and the castle was back again. Why was I the only one who could see it? And what did it have to do with me?