Story cover for Crowned Queen by SquigleyQuagmire
Crowned Queen
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Ongoing, First published Mar 26, 2020
Mature
Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.

Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I, and you are you,
and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.

Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident?

Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just round the corner.

All is well.
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again.

Read this poem over and over again. The death of her parents sent her down a winding road of War. "Eiireth, its going to be alright." Andries, Eiireth Dominy Aunteradawlish's Older brother assured her, placing his hand on the low of her back.

(CONTAINS MILD KILLING AND BATTLE)
All Rights Reserved
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My father brought out his long glinting sword and plunged it into my mothers stomach. It seemed the second time was more painful than the first. It was like the reassurance that nothing was okay. That my mother really does die, that my father really is the bastard I know him to be. There's no escaping my future anymore. Growing up is the only way out. I pushed Mrs. Havisham away from me and fought out of Damon's iron grip. I stalked towardsmy father and his evil, hysterical grin. He opened his arms as if to hug me. I raised my sword and plunged it deep into his stomach. His face turned from a grin to shock and he looked down at his stomach to find the sword I was still holding implanted in his flesh. He looked back up at me and I pulled the sword out sharply, mercilessly. His face turned into a sick grimace which made waves of horror pass through my body. He fell to the ground just in front of my mother. A single tear ran down my cheek. I looked down at my mother and father, both dead, at my hand. Both bleeding because of a stupid peice of silver. Fighting. Fighting for freedom, for her life and for her friends. Fighting is all Jessica can do anymore because if she doesn't fight, her life with slowly crumble around her. Jessica was an ordinary girl until she came to Dean House but then again I suppose irony is sweet. She found she was a witch and a powerful one at that. She finds she has to bring down her father no matter what it costs, an arm, a leg, a life, even when it's her own mothers she can never stop. Fighting is the only things he knows now and a fighter she is.