Hello, my name is Lily-anne Marie. I’m twelve years of age and I live in Elizabethan England. My Father and I are the wealthiest in town. You maybe be asking yourself what happened to my mum, she was a producer for William Shakespeare’s Plays, but unfortunately she died from an unknown disease. And this is a day in my life.
It’s the 26th of September 1545, today my father is taking me bear-baiting. My father said its great fun to watch, and that it was a tradition of his to watch it every Sunday. I was so excited; I wonder what they actually do.
So we walked into the stadium and saw the most beautiful bear with a white patch streaking down his muzzle and tummy. I stared at him in wonder, trying to understand why he was strapped to a pole. His eyes were light brown and were searching the crowd franticly.
A man told us to take our seats ‘cause it was about to begin. My eyes stayed fixed on the bear when someone from out of sight yelled,” let the dogs out!”
This made no sense to me. A second later five Bulldogs were running towards the bear. A high-pitched scream passed my lips when I saw the dogs attack him. Blood stained his white patches, he yelped in pain as the dogs ripped him apart. My father was cheering next to me, encouraging the dogs on. The bear look at my face just when a dog lunged at his.
The bear was in pieces, scattered across the ground, blood pooling the floor. The crowd erupted into applause. I sat there shocked, unable to move, with tears overflowing my eyes.
My father led me back to our mansion, laughing and talking about it the whole way there. He said he was disappointed because the bear didn’t give up a good fight; my face turned to shock, feeling like its was going to freeze in a never-ending frown.
My father looked at my face and thankfully shut his mouth. He was silent for the rest of the trip home. I hope to God he doesn’t make me go next time.
We eventually reached the mansion, the white walls looming over me. The curtains were closed; silver framing the edges of the windows.
Lucy our servant made us dinner, it was suckling Pig. But I had lost my appetite. The day was coming to an end. The sun half hidden behind the mountains, the sun was highlighting the Globe theatre, a sound of a play filling the lifeless night with music. I shut my curtain and curled up on my grand bed, unable to drift into sleep.
