Day 1

  Today was the worst day of my life. And no, this isn't some childish annoyance. Today was meant to start as any other day.

  The week of grand celebration has finally come, the paintings dusted in the castle, the banisters cleaned, and the carpets rolled out. Decorations littered the walls, and the garden looked splendid. Looking out the window, the bees for the first day of spring coming out and nestling into the buttercup flowers, only seen with their black buzzing lines.

  My eyes were forced away as the dress finally tightened around me, forcing air out of my lungs as the laces were pulled tight.

  "Do I have to wear this?" This simple question was the only one I uttered before the day. Margaret, the head maid, gave me a stern look, and I escaped the thought of uttering any more complaints.

  And with a coat added, the last time I saw Margaret, she smiled at me, her cheeks rosy with excitement for what the day would hold after lasting another winter.

  I shuffled and spun around, looking down at the crowd in front of me. My father was on the left, and my mother was on the other side. They smiled as they whispered something, a giggle escaping from her as she looked at the crowd.

  Drowning out, looking at the flag hanging from beneath the window, the wind fluttered, making the rabbit on it dance in the air, lost in my world of something chasing after it, surviving the winter and the possibilities that the new season would bring.

  Boot buckles clinking behind her; turning around as she saw Godrick walk behind, armour clinking, gauntlet hand reaching for my father, the Kings heavy hand stopping the King’s words for a moment, the crown moving on his head as he looked up at Godrick. Only seeing the smile slowly fade from the King's face, as it slowly froze, turned to stone.

  Godrick moved closer down until his mouth was just behind my father's ear. The three words still echoing in my mind, "Long live the King" The chuckle escaped from Godrick's throat as my father slumped into his chair. The entire world became silent, time frozen, incapable of moving forward, stopping Godrick, of uttering a single word.

  "AHHHHH!"

  The scream ripped my world from its frozen stupor; before another word could be uttered, the room came in, guards rushing in as the rest of the crowd screamed. Hope filled my heart for the last time as the swords drawn were not at Godrick but at my neck. Slowly pivoting my head, my mouth clamped shut as the wailing continued, a tear falling down my eye, and feeling my body shake as a bubble built up in front of me. The cold steel is the only thing to keep in mind.

  "No, it can't be", Uttered my lips, two hands picking me up from under the shoulders, lifting me off my feet and out of the room, the sounds of my mother still wailing for her dead husband, the wooden doors closing with a boom, stifling the sounds of my mother, her pleas to bring her husband back, to have the day as it should be unheard to the world.

  My eyes fluttering closed, the will to keep them open now gone; I hope it will be a nightmare. When I open them, the sun will be coming in, and Margaret will be shaking me awake for the celebrations.

  ***

  Pain welled in my head as the stone steps welcomed me. The last words I had heard from the day were "Food will be at noon, welcome to the tower." The door closed with a groan, the world seemingly shaking for a moment, dust becoming unsettled as darkness engulfed me. Pulling myself up, II made my way up the stairs, hoping that it would prove some salvation, some explanation as to what had happened.

  Making it to the top, the only thing catching my eye was the single roll of bread and the window next to it. The blue sky shone, glimmering through the tears that welled in my eyes. Running forward, reaching out the window and looking down, the dizzying height, was the only thing welcoming me. The ground so far beneath the trees around the tower did not even reach half its height.

  Slumping back down, I looked over the rest of the room, only seeing a single writing desk, a book open, and a piece of charcoal next to it. Picking up the charcoal, I flipped through the book, finding nothing but blank pages. Moving to the first one, I started writing Day 1.

  Day 3

  The bread still came, flung up out of the window, the same as the day before. I was still looking out there, the birds free as they could be, whispering out, hoping that someone would come up and save me. My eyes were burning, and only a whimpering breath came from my lips. No more tears could roll down my cheeks.

  Day 20

  Still nothing, bread is coming through every day as predicted, a sack of water has come three times now, trickling a mouthful down, the other two sacks lying in a corner. Whenever the food came, I scrambled to the window to try and shout out; however, the food was delivered, which was not evident at all. Nobody was riding a horse away from the tower, and the bushes were rustling for a moment before silence filled the forest around me again. Still, I cling to hope that the murderer would have justice paid for his actions and that my prince charming would ride through the forest, cleaving it in two and opening a path for me to see him ride on a white stallion.

  In a single leap made his way up to the window and, with a hand outstretched for me, said the six simple words, "Let me show you the world,"

  But as I stare out, past the window, the only feeling that enters once more isn't hope but grief. For I fear now nobody will come for me.

  Day 30

  Looking around the room, the bookshelf on one side falling apart, the books thrown across the floor from my gaze, reading through it all, trying to uncover something to interest me in these passing days. I'm looking through it, and none of it makes any sense. Symbols and words fluttered together, dancing across the page, shining the light on it, watching as they continued to dance, but now was the last book. Opening it up and took towards the window, sitting on the ground with my back against the wall, the window directly overhead as the sunlight directly onto the book's pages.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  The book was yellowed and dusty, the oldest one I had ever seen. Feeling the pages wanting to crack under even my slightest touch, the ink almost faded, and the words no longer danced as they limply hung there, looking faded and worn out. Moving through the book, several pages cracked under my touch, unable to make it through the movement she was causing, the dust making my nose tickle.

  Making it to the end, the only two words standing out to myself were clear and pure.

  "Open Sesame", The words forced out of my lips, throat closing up and wanting to become like pieces of paper, dust in the wind. The only thing stopping me from scrambling for water to quench my throat was watching as the white light appeared on the ground near the bookshelf, slowly fizzling out again.

  The change had finally happened.

  The book dropped from my clutches as I rushed over the wooden floor at the top of the tower. My hand brushed over the line, and I felt air blowing beneath my fingertips. In the centre of the square hole, there was a single finger hole.

  Pushing my finger into the darkness, I broke past something as I pulled the trap door up, heaving with it and allowing it to fall onto the other side. I saw a single spider crawl out of it, steps leading downwards.

  I shrieked at it, scared as the spider web still hung on my fingers. Brushing it on my dirty dress, my foot hovered above as I put it down to the side. Calming my breath as I bent down and looked at the little guy.

  "I shall call you Bob," I said aloud, my voice cracking from being used so much after weeks of silence.

  Looking down into the steps, the light shining down, and up from it was a single piece of paper that read "How to study magic."

  Day 100

  The sun shone through the window, warming me up once more as the days continued marching forward. Bob is still hanging around; the flies are coming in, and Frost is starting to come in through the window. My dress is now in ruins, having torn the midsection out, no longer needing to hold it in for who else would see her. The cape was repurposed to wrap around her, adding a second layer to fit tight to my body so as not to ruin any of my work. Scanning over the books that I had once thrown on the ground, their mesmerising writing now captivating for her, the little swirls of the previous owner now answering up to it, making slightly more sense as the dance, once chaotic the pattern started to form.

  Fingers glided over the books' spines, finally snagged on one as the pages flew open to herself.

  "Ahh, Bob, I was so close. Al-inferno The words came out of my mouth, hand pointed towards the window sill. Steam coming off it as the winter seems to be coming again, rearing its ugly head soon. Memories of that day come back again. Shaking my head, the path forward would be uncovering the tower's secrets and discovering what other mysteries would remain.

  Day 1825

  No bread had come today, the first day since the entrapment began. Still looking over the window, none found that would be delivering it. The only thing not adding was the solution: scour the books underneath me, looking for a way to eat. Groaning belly pushing myself forward, I ran towards the trap door, the wooden top left open, leaning against the wall as I trumpeted down the steps into the floors below.

  The first floor, its puzzle being to produce light enough to see the words "Alakazam" written on the paint, cracking when I first entered but now fresh with information from the other floors beneath her.

  On the second floor, nothing remained, only dirt and a single beaker; I saw the dirt move underneath my feet as the worms crawled through once more to many days spent bringing this from cracked hard dirt to rich soil, and now a way to plant something to grow.

  I found tools with sigils marked into the material on the last and seventh floors. Hand carved into the tools, no marking looking the same. I sent my arm into the air to cast some light, watching as it danced underneath the ceiling above me on the sixth floor, filled with beakers and liquids that remained a mystery. Food was the greater incentive now, and running through it, all I needed was a single seed to plant on one of the floors above. I scanned the books that day and found nothing.

  Depleted, I walked back up the stairs to my room at the top of the tower. After more than a thousand days, would this be my end?

  I perched on the window, legs dangling outside, racking my head of spells to use to make the landing. Holding my hand outstretched, I said, "Al-infeino." The words came out as a fireball materialised, dropping towards the ground and lost within the forest.

  A whistle came from my lips, passing the time as the sun slowly set. And just before the last light of day, a single bird came up and dropped a single seed onto my outstretched hand.

  Day 3259

  It has been nearly ten years since I was thrown into this tower, and this will be the last entry in this diary. For whoever finds this next, I hope this tower will help you as much as it has me—the previous owner, whether a genius or a madman, will forever be lost to time.

  Looking out the window, the memory of the knight riding towards her, leaping through the window to show her the world. Now, the world would need to be ready, whether it liked to or not.

  Day 3260

  The castle guttered, the smell of pork burning filling my nostrils, puddles of molten metal on the ground, walking up the final steps towards the doors.

  "Alfrencho"

  The single word caused the doors to burst open, the hinges protesting from the force as both doors fell to the ground. Staring at her father's throne, sitting there was the man who caused all her pain. Godrick, face in horror at her arrival, the nightmare coming to light.

  Stepping into the room, looking towards the flags above the window, which had entertained me for hours on end. The rabbit being chased was gone; only a snake slithering through the grass remained. Raising my hand once more, the flags erupting into flames on either side, smoke starting to fill the room

  "How? You should have starved?" Godrick asked, clasping to get out of the chair.

  "Creazon," I said, the throne he was on springing to life, holding onto Godrick’s wrists and ankles, stopping the King from moving. All other life in the hall had been extinguished; only the two of them remained as the bodies of the guards, who whom her father had died, continued to burn.

  The three words escaping my throat, "Life finds a way” Holding her hand towards the Kings head at the crown, the same crown as her fathers, having been passed down for generations, turning molten, looking at what I had done to the throne room, now in ruins as no life remained except her own. As the thing continued, maybe one other life did remain near the room.

  Behind the servants door, hearing a shaky breath as the person on the other side "Welcome home, Elizabeth" said Margaret, tears falling down her face, the head maid that had raised her now on her knees in shock. The flames burning behind me the fury, an echo in my body as staring down at Margaret took the wind from my sails. Crumbling towards the ground and into my maids waiting arms.

  "How?"

  The single word echoes around the quiet room. Holding up my hand, a mote of golden light appeared the with a flick of my finger, shooting out of the window, letting all know outside time had changed.

  "What a gift" stuttered the words from the head maids mouth. "Your parents would be so proud."

  The floor meeting up with myself, the words I dare not purse from my lips. I would swap this knowledge any day to do that one day ... again.