I never had a normal childhood; I have always been imprisoned as long as I can remember. My life revolved around one thing and one thing only, satisfying my duties as the princess of my small island of Costa Luna. I looked out my glass window; I instantly smelled the roses that were as red as velvet outside in my window box. They were in full bloom and their aroma captured my lonely soul. The sun shone on my window, leaving a faint shine in my dark and solitary room. But the aroma of the glamorous roses and the shine of the perfect summer sun could only be witnessed through my clear glass window. I saw the children of my countless maids’ running around in the sparkling green grass that shone beautifully with the sun’s shine. They were having the time of their lives in the perfect summer weather. I wish I could be out there, enjoying the childhood I never had. The field, I desired to be in it. I wanted my childhood, I wanted my freedom. I turned away from my glass window and walked over to the light switch and turned on the artificial light. I turned around again to see out of my glass window. The beauty of the summer tempted me to go outside. To smell the thick aroma of the countless flowers in the gardens, to stand in the sunlight instead of under a chandelier, to be able to run around in the green field, to be able to have the long desired childhood that had unfairly been taken away from me. I’d trade all my dresses, toys, and riches to go to the other side of my glass window. The temptation heated my body and tortured my mind. I mustn’t, I couldn’t. I closed the curtains and the view of the summer afternoon disappeared.
?I abandoned my dark room. Even if the light was on, it was always dark in my eyes. I went downstairs and saw my mother in an elegant gown as usual, eating her dinner on a luxurious china plate. She gave me a sparkling smile, before inviting me to have dinner with her.
?“Daphne, I’m so glad you could join me,” my mother told as I sat on a luxurious white chair that matched the expensive table. Almost the whole house was white. Everywhere I turned was either white or grey. It was revolting.
?In the middle of the white table was a vase full of roses from the garden. These roses were the same kind as the ones in my window box, but these were dull, their aroma wasn’t as rich as the ones outside the glass window. The roses on the other side of my window were a beautiful red, these looked pale, almost an ugly, blood red. They were horrendous in my eyes.
?“Daphne, Daphne, what is wrong?” my mother asked. My gaze switched over to my mother’s blue eyes. One could get lost in those blue eyes of hers. When I was younger, her eyes glistened when I looked at them, but now, they were as dull as the bloody roses. The beholder of those dull blue eyes was the border between the other side of the window and me. The reason I can only experience a beautiful summer day by the faint sunlight that entered my room. She was the robber of my childhood.
?“These roses! They’re dull and bloody. They’re horrendous, disgusting, revolting!” I yelled with all my emotion. The blue eyes of my mother’s had a puzzled look within them.
?“But Daphne, they are the same kind of roses like the ones you admire from your window box” my mother explained, trying to sooth me with her calm, affectionate voice. The same voice she used when she tried calming the masses when the touchy subject of war got around.
?“No mother, these roses are horrid. Their bloody red color frightens me. I want the ones outside. Those are a beautiful red velvet, their smell brings heaven to my nose” I explained to my cruel mother.
?“Sweetheart, they’re the roses like the ones in the window box, they’re exactly the same” my mother replied to my pointless tantrum. I was too old to be having a tantrum, I was already 11, but those roses were enough to cry for.
?“No, not at all. The ones I see through my glass window, those are sparkling, those are beautiful. These, these roses have lost their magic when they entered this house. Just like everything that has entered this house lost their magic. Once you throw them out, when in your eyes, they lost their beauty, and they’re out in the open, then their magic and true beauty will return again. Even if they’re dead and no longer red, they’ll still be beautiful in my eyes” I said emotionally, tears filled up my eyes. My mother’s gaze switched over from me to back to her food. She didn’t reply back to my monologue about the dead roses, instead she ignored it. Just like she ignores the complaints from her people about the potential war. The proper wording would be our people, but those people are the reason I cannot go to the park or go anywhere without men in black, bulletproof vest. Death threats arrived every day. We were hated. They wished death upon my family. And I do not blame them. We were putting potential death upon them, why wouldn’t they wish the same to us? It’s like how I hate those who stole my childhood. They took something valuable away from me, why shouldn’t I wish something horrible upon them? I do not blame the public; I only hate them because they’re also a border between me and the other side of my glass window. They do deserve war, they honestly do.
?My mother stood up and left the table. She didn’t acknowledge my presence; she simply left me alone with the dead roses and the thoughts of revenge and karma fresh in my mind.
?After I finished eating, I went back up to my room and stared at the ceiling instead of out my glass window. The ceiling, the walls for that matter, reminded me that I was caged in , that nothing I do would change my condition. That even if I wished every night to be anywhere but here, I always woke up in the same small bed, the same, pale pink walls, in the same prison. Nothing changed and I doubt it ever will. When the war begins, it’ll be even worse. Our home would be surrounded by guards; my glass window would be replaced by a dark, bulletproof window, hiding in the attic if the enemies got to our home. But then I realized, wouldn’t life still be the same? Even if I had to be protected even when I slept, I’d still be imprisoned. The level of imprisonment would not matter; I was still trapped in a bubble that I could not pop. I looked at the covered window and fell asleep with the thought of freedom still fresh in my mind.
?I dreamt of how my life would be if I weren’t a princess. Life would be so much easier, so much simpler. In the back of my mind, I hear myself yelling with joy as I play with the maids’ children. I wished that I was the daughter of one of the maids. They were careless and free, enjoying every second of their childhood. For them, it was a never-ending summer. As I dreamt of having the time of my life, I hear my mom yelling at me to come back inside. Gunshots could be heard from a distance. Even if I left my room to go out to the beautiful field, I’d never be free. There are too many borders for me to cross. Too many obstacles an 11-year old could not deal with. I heard the gunshots getting closer, and I sacredly went back inside. Not because the gunshots frightened me, but the reality of my life did. I ran up to my room and ran to my glass window. I opened the curtains and before my eyes, the roses began to die and turn a bloody red. They were wilting, they lost their precious magic. The gunshots got closer and the whole field turned grey and dull. They were going to invade my home, for that matter, everything. The field lost its magic because the potential freedom was gone.
?I woke up, tears tickled down my cheeks. I felt my face heating up. The nightmare had ended. No, I was living the nightmare. I could hear a voice telling me I had to enjoy the little beauty the field had left.
?I unlatched the window and opened it. I smelled the nature and indulged it, before running outside to enjoy the freedom I had left. I knew it wouldn’t last long. I could already hear the gunshots from a distance.


The End