Intro to Creative Writing: Fan Fiction

Sarah Tredennick

Work Shop 3

Just a Dream

The picture was flawless. It portrayed two girls, one blonde, one red headed, both with blue eyes, both tall, and both ever so beautiful. The sun was setting displaying a golden halo highlighting their beings complete with a faded moon and one star just to the right in the sky. The girls were reading a book and smiling. They were ten years old and the book was one of fairy tales given to them at birth by their mothers. The image has now faded at the bottom and the corners were curling up. It was old and viewed often.

It is a picture of us, Kyle and me. To me it was not a picture, but a reality we once lived in. The photo transported us into another world each time we looked at it, so it was only fitting, that on Kyle’s wedding day, we would both hold it near to our hearts and float away, one last time.

For a moment in time, Kyle and I sat down on the same back porch, just as we had in the photo, looked at each other, smiled. With a flash of light, we were in a castle running towards the front door.

“Princess, Kyle, Princess Kyle, you have a lot to do tonight, we must get you ready,” yelled the maid as she dressed and groomed me. It was the night of the grand Debutante where Kyle and I were to be chosen as wives by one of the eligible Lord’s. The maids dressed us in white as a sign of purity, but we were both tainted by the recent death of our father, which had placed us in this current predicament. Our mothers could no longer support us; therefore, it was imperative that one of us be chosen to retain the family honor and a fortune.

We placed our feet at the top of the stairs, hand in hand, and descended the staircase as the announcer introduced us: “Now presenting, Kyle Elizabeth and Sarah Erica, Princesses from Kent.” Our mothers matched our gate on the other side of the railing and at the bottom of the stairs gave us our dance cards and passed our remaining purity to the men standing before us.

My hand was given first, as I was Kyle’s one year Kyle’s senior, and placed in the hand of lord Eckel of Belgium. He was a tall male with blonde hair and soft blue eyes. He placed my left hand on his shoulder and kept my right hand in his. We remained still while we waited for Kyle to join us on the floor. I looked to my left to see Kyle being escorted to the floor by Lord Haskell of Paris. The band stood, took their instruments and began to play. Lord Haskell and Lord Eckel wasted no time in leading us in the traditional waltz. By the end of the dance, Kyle was engaged and I was left standing alone while Lord Eckel was removed from the dance floor by the local authorities.

I lowered my head as I wished Kyle and the lord their best in their new life. I refrained from raising my head, as my eyes were green as emeralds and my smile dripping with disdain. My mother and I rode back to our humble abode and from that moment on, we only heard from Kyle on rare occasions.

During the month of December, Lord Haskell took a trip around the world leaving Kyle with the freedom to explore, but also with the explicit instructions to remain out of the bottom quarters. She immediately sent a letter inviting me to stay for the duration. Upon my arrival she had told me of his strict instructions and asked if I would be willing to disobey his order with her. I complied, as we had always been partners in crime with sealed lips behind which lie tales never to be told.

We descended the staircase, hand in hand, dressed in black. We arrived at tall wooden door. I grasped the handle while Kyle turned the key. We opened the door. At first glance, there was nothing to be seen. We walked deeper into the room. I looked down and let out a loud scream. What were black nightgowns were now drenched in thick red syrup, which we later found out was blood. We ran back up the stairs, hand in hand, dressed in red with fear in our eyes.

Lord Haskell returned the next day to see our bloody footsteps and gowns. He looked Kyle in the eye and without hesitation said she had five minutes to gather her thoughts and prepare for her imminent death. At that moment, I grabbed her by the collar and we sprinted out of the house only after I decapitated Lord Haskell. Kyle and I forever lived together, and the true story of Lord Haskell remained behind a lock and key placed around Kyle’s bleeding heart, behind which told tales of love and affection that once thrived.

Before Kyle and I removed our minds from neverland, a yell came from the kitchen, “five minutes until you walk down the isle.” I prepared myself at the head of the isle to lead the rest of the bride’s maids. I moved down the isle, dressed in red with Clark, the Man of Honor, in hand. Kyle followed soon after, dressed in white, with my brother, Scott, in hand. Scott kissed her on the cheek and placed her purity into the hands of John. My eyes remained blue, in this reality. Kyle gazed into my eyes one last time before John’s. We both smiled and felt content with present reality. Vows were exchanged and sealed with a kiss on the lips, behind which hold no secrets, no regrets, and no fear.

Before Kyle left for her new life, new mansion, and new love and I returned to my world, farm, and beau, we visited my father’s grave and left our picture. Kyle and I will forever be princesses and forever be best friends, but from now on, the far away land we escaped to remains real and in our back yard. Sometimes reality is better than fantasy.