The Lost City of Atlantis

A/N: A short story that I wrote 3/4 years ago, so apologies if it seems a bit childish. Please share your thoughts - I'd love to hear them!

Life. You never really appreciate it until you feel death. Ironic really. Needing something fearfully exhilarating to live. To feel. Nobody ever realises until they are at the brink, but by then it is always too late...

* * * *

The day started innocently enough. Waking up in my Ruijssenaars magnetic floating bed tangled up in my 300 thread-count bed sheets, having a nice, long and invigorating shower in my jet-powered jacuzzi and stepping out onto the balcony with a flute of Chardonnay. Looking out at the acres of ground below me, I felt a sense of peace and contentment. I turned away, cinching the belt of my favourite cashmere dressing gown, thinking about all the different possibilities I had as soon as I turned 18 and inherited the land. The shrill beep of my PDA startled me out of my reverie. Irritant, I checked the screen. It was a reminder from mommy.

"Sweetie, don't forget you promised to attend the function with me to present my donation to that slummy part of the city. xxx"

I groaned inwardly as I remembered the 'promise' that I had made. If saying maybe, to stop her pestering me is even counted as a promise. Ever since daddy mysteriously vanished 8 years ago, I've had to be the stand in for him. Every. Single. Time.

I ring the maid, ordering her to ensure that the stable hand had Stardust - my regal horse - ready. Even though it was sweltering outside, I wore my jodhpurs and breeches. I've always been particular about appearance and fashion - a quirk inherited from daddy. I pause at the doorway and look at the picture frame of me and daddy. I remember the day clearly, every detail ingrained into my brain. The rays from the scorching sun piercing my back as we rode, all day, in the Marchlands. Never once had I complained. I struggle to fight back nostalgia, as the past threatens to overwhelm me. Blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay, I turn away from his beaming face and sigh. He was never coming back; everyone knew that, but they kept up their pretences for me. Even the best detectives had stopped searching last year, with no amount of money that could sway their decision. There were even articles proclaiming his death. Though they were few, as mommy had given orders to keep them hidden from her "precious darling".

Standing outside the patio, I remembered my good-luck Tiffany teardrop necklace and went back inside to collect it. I'm not really superstitious, but I cannot leave the manor without it. I would keep it on permanently; however, mommy insists that her "precious darling" may get strangled in her sleep. I was admiring the iridescent and spangled reflection of the necklace when the car arrived. Swivelling quickly, I ran towards the patio.

A scream that sounded like a banshee had me whirling around again instantly. I was rooted to the spot. The world around me grinded to a halt and the world became mute. My eyes zoomed in to the source of the commotion, where a maid was standing with a vase in front of her. The vase was rocking side to side, from left to right, in a slow and continuous rhythm. As I watched, transfixed, it tipped to the right and upturned itself in mid-air. As if trying to defy gravity, it slowly drifted to the ground... and smashed. Every shard flew in different directions - every piece taking its time.

The world then sped up, sound switched back on and reality hit. I swallowed, trying to find my voice, as I realised that this specific vase had been a gift from Queen Noreen.

"How dare you! Do you know how valuable, how priceless that vase was? It's ruined! Smashed to smithereens! All because of you, an imprudent, careless fool!" I ranted on, "I shall have it deducted from your salary, each month, until it is paid for."

I glower at her while the chauffeur opens the door of my Chevy corvette ZR1 for me. Once inside, I swallow hard and pour myself a large chalice of Chardonnay with a shot of appletini. Poor mite! It wasn't her fault, I knew it was mine and I was just using her as a scapegoat. Mommy wouldn't even notice it missing, if they replaced it with another impractical entity. A sense of déjà vu envelops me and I remember, once again, the events leading up to daddy's disappearance.

* * * *

The day had been specially allocated for father and daughter bonding. It had been a surprise to find that we were going riding, as my father hadn't rode in a long time. Although he had been a world renowned rider, he had given up since the death of his steed, Anziyan. The other thing that made the day so unique was that mommy had gone on a trip to Dubai, for prince Alihashan's party, so we could spend the entire day without her constantly nagging at us. Just as we were leaving, I had decided to change into my Michael Kors black sandal backs, as the Lily Pulitzers' I was wearing looked slightly distasteful. Running up the stairs then, I knocked over a diamond-cut, platinum-finished ornament and it had shattered - like the vase. Daddy and I had looked at each other and laughed, thinking about what mommy's reaction would have been if she was there.

* * * *