The throne of Popularity

Worst Present EVER!!!

"How could you, Papa? Why do you wish to marry again? For the third time?" we both said. It rained so much that it made the thought of a new mother even more unpleasant. With the rain, the sky was dark. 

"Stop arguing. My decision is final." 

We already knew what Father was planning to do before he told us, but when he told us, my whole body was shaking out of shock, my heart beating really quickly. I was not scared, but it was out of anger. 

Is getting married his favourite thing to do? Because, apparently it is. First, he married Mama, then 'Mother' (Eve and Linda's mother) and now, strict aunt Agnes. She is stern and serious. Someone who never laughs, never even smiles. Do not trust you first impression if you see her. At first you would not realize that she has some kindness in her heart. When you get to know her, she is as gentle and considerate as can be. We knew this, she is our aunt.

 "We will see them in the castle, so pack some of your belongings. Bring a few sets of clothes and some other objects. Bring as little as possible because you will not be needing most of them. We will leave tomorrow." Papa Ordered!

We could not argue further, because we had to respect Father's wishes, which we have done for almost our whole lives. Whenever he made a decision, he never asked for our opinion, even though all of his decisions highly affected our lives. He only considered his own thoughts and ideas. He was a good, caring father who loved us, but sometimes he seemed to forget us and that we even existed. Sometimes, he thought that getting married again would be an advantage for us, but so far, it has not been. 

 We slowly went to our bedroom to pack our belongings, not believing what had happened. We knew what to pack with us beforehand. I was going to bring the elegant lockets and Mama's beautiful blankets. They bring back memories of when we were much younger and my life was perfect. As I picked up the blankets, I felt tears moving down my cheeks. I could not possibly imagine leaving the place that was my home for my lifetime. Leaving most of our belongings was bitter, but not as bitter as leaving this cottage. The cottage was silent, except for the noise of the rain, pouring down and hitting the ground. Neither of us had anything to say. We were so busy thinking of all the memories we had in this house (Lucia didn't even mind when I called her by her real name. If we had a normal situation, Lucia would have been really annoyed, but at that time, she did not care.) 

We had to make the most out of today. We went to the garden, although it was raining a lot. I stared at the trees that Lucia and I had once climbed, the grass that we lied on at night, looking at the stars, and the squirrels, moving on the trees and how Lucia and I used to play with them. After that, we went to the living room and looked at the paintings on the walls. They did not mean much to us. Aunt Agnes had brought those to our cottage a few years ago. The living room was plain, with little furniture, almost empty. Other than the paintings was an old rug. Those times were lovely, but they are over now. 

Lucia and I had lived in the cottage for a long time, so we wondered how the castle would look like. We had seen it from the outside with the gates, but had never set a foot inside. I was always interested to know how it looks like, but in this situation, I didn't care. I would have told my only friends all about going to the castle and staying there, but I was probably not going to see them again. Telling them such a news was something that I could not easily do, because I knew that I was never going to see them again. After wandering around the cottage, I decided to visit my friends and tell them. I still felt uncomfortable, but I had to. Lucia and I went to our friends' house. They were sisters, just like me and Lucia. I usually went there joyously, but this time, I obviously could not be happy. 

We started slowly walking, our heads bent. We still did not really talk. There was nothing to say. Their house was quite close, so there was no need for us to walk for a long time. As we approached their house, we looked up at the window and then knocked at the door. One of our friends opened the door and asked us to come in, but we refused. We were not in the mood of going in. So we told her to get her sister. A little bit later, they were both at the door and we quickly told them what happened. They were excited at first, their mouths open; they could not believe it. But when they thought about it further, they realized that they were not going to see us again. They started crying, and so did we, we all hugged each other, a group hug and the rain still coming. 

We were shambling back towards our cottage. We were soaking wet when we got home. Father was singing happily, packing his clothes. Neither of us were really in the mood to hear him singing, considering how miserable we were. (Or how terrible his singing is).So, we both stomped to our room and slept for a while, although it was the afternoon. When I woke up, I saw Lucia staring. I don't know what she was staring at. Because she was looking at the wall. Our room did not have much furniture either.

But Neither of us were surprised that (I) Lucia was staring at the walls. We were still unhappy and whatever we did, we could not forget what was going to happen to us tomorrow. We both finished packing. Without our blankets in our room, it did not seem like our room anymore. At that time, whenever either of us looked at something in our cottage, it brought back precious memories, memories that I was never going to forget. But at the same time, we were not thinking of the memories, but about tomorrow.  

Dear Diary,

 Father is not necessarily my favourite person right now. He's actually getting married to her our Aunt, Seriously she married his now dead brother. The brother that disowned him. Has he even thought about what happened last time? Or the time before that? Both of them were murdered one by our own uncle. Ok that one was kinda CC and my faults. Mamas death wasn't. She isn't even as good as mama was. Mama was the most loving, caring and honest woman I ever knew. I just finished packing all my things. Well the things that I would need; my special blanket, my locket (which I am wearing) , a few of my (better looking) dresses and of course I will include this diary after I finish writing this entry in it. It is not very strange that I write in this diary more than CC does considering Eli gave it to me for the both of us but I love writing my feelings out on paper. Time to go, goodbye cottage goodbye home!

All that mattered was that we were leaving our lovely home and never coming back. 

Authors Note: See two uploads in one day. Your Lucky soooo Vote comment please?, I'm begging you! I'm scared in case no one likes the story please prove me wrong. The first person to comment on the story will have the next chapter dedicated to them!