On Dreams, or what a single sentence can do to you.

March 2, 2010 at 12:41 (General)

Or rather it should be called on joy and despair.
I have despaired as I was unable to find the story in my multiple folders were I keep my stories.
I have rejoiced once I found it.
I wanted to publish a short story I wrote to a prompt from I no longer remember who.
It was a contest, there were sentences to write the story around and the story was supposed to be short and about dreams.
So I wrote this:

Arien once more looked at the big, gold-framed mirror in front of her. The white gown fit her nicely, the flowers in her hair brought out her eyes. She looked beautiful. And yet, there it was still, the empty feeling, no happiness reflecting in her eyes.
She was to become a queen on this very day. Soon they will lead her out of this room, away from her home, her life and away from him.
She had no dreams left.
They took them away from her, once they decided that she will marry the king. Such an honor, such happiness.
She cried on the first night, till she had no more tears left. She cried to the sound of dreams being shattered.
Yesterday, she embraced him for the last time.
He came to see her, sneaking past the guards. He was there with her on that night, and when the dawn came, she gave him pieces of her broken dreams, to hold and protect, as this was all they had left.
As they stood there embraced, frozen, she heard the guards approaching. They steeled boots echoed in the empty corridor. And still he stood there, holding her tightly as if he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart. Like he could mend the broken dreams, by never letting go. She pushed him away, not once looking into his eyes.
-“You must leave! You’re very life depends on it!” – her scream awoken him, made him see that the dreams could not be mended.
He left quickly, not saying goodbye, not looking at her. She did not cry; she no longer could.

They led her to the altar. Her father’s hand on her arm was firm. She felt like threading on shards of dreams, of a different life, of a different man waiting on her there by the altar steps.
The king’s eyes are filled with love, his face handsome. He is young, fair and kind. He is nothing she wanted.
Her dream has been fierce like a dragon, scarred by the battles he fought, wild, untamed.
There were no more dragons in this kingdom; there were no more dreams in her life.

The king embraced her with gentleness. Her dream’s embraces were of fire. She longed for them. Where the king touched her, she felt cold, she longed for the heat that kept her warm in winter nights. Now her nights were dreamless, her skin cold, her eyes empty.
The king’s smile vanished. His eyes lost their shine. She could hear his dreams breaking; she saw it before her own eyes. She knew she caused it. And yet she did not feel any remorse.

Anger replaced the kindness, hate took loves place. Robbed of their dreams, the woman became empty, the man became hungry for vengeance.

A new king was born.

It is connected to the book I am writing, as it takes place prior to the events that I am writing about.
It is a bit rushed and I have not edited it and I did not have it proofread as I did not take part in the contest after all.

Oh, and I am aware that it is a bit cheesy, all that dreams shattering, etc. I know, I know ;p.

Feedback is very appreciated.
Thank you for reading.

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