TlStanfieldPg68

Nightmare
Part IX

I spent hours more questioning Kalen
But, although he is the queen's Champion
Apparently, she felt it necessary to keep certain things from him
And nothing more he told me made my situation any clearer
Although I did discover that the queen and I had much in common
Eerily so, our lives practically mirrored each other's
And I saw her picture, it was like looking at myself
Oh, there were small differences
But they were small indeed
As the day drew to a close, I returned to the queen's chambers
My chambers, until I could figure this thing out
I lay on her bed.....and tossed and turned
Finally giving up on sleep
Not a huge sacrifice really, considering what happened to me the last time I slept
I looked around the room for a book of some kind to read, and found none
So I started to search her drawers
And with the third drawer I opened, I found a book
I looked for a title on the cover, but there wasn't one
Upon opening the book, I discovered it was her journal
And now, here I sit, with her writings in my hands
Debating with myself as to whether or not to read it
After all, these are her private thoughts
And the book is kept here in the sanctity of her room
Normally, I would never even consider invading someone's privacy in such a way
But......I need answers, I must have them
And so, with a great deal of trepidation, I begin to read

Nightmare
Part X

The journal started about six years ago
And from the way it read, it was not the first volume
I wondered where the others were
From the thickness of this one, I guessed there could be
at most, two more
This one should suffice for my needs however
So, feeling like the worst kind of intruder, I began to
read
As the journal began, her mother had already died
She and her father still mourned the loss
I skimmed over much of it
Wanting not to invade her privacy any more than
absolutely necessary
There were mentions of Wilfred almost from the first
page
He must truly have been pursuing her all of her life
Not one entry was favorable to him
But she did not seem to fear him either
As I read her words, I had the strangest feeling of
kinship
I can't quite explain it
Not as if I too had experienced these things
But almost as if it was I who had written them
The "voice" of her writing was my own
Though the experiences written of were hers
I reached the part where her father died
I intended to just skip it, as it really had no bearing
on my situation
But a word caught my eye
The word murdered