"𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝; 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝. 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐨𝐮𝐬."
"Haven't I given enough? Must I sacrifice myself upon the altar of man's p...
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"On either side the river lie, Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; And thro' the field the road runs by, To many-tower'd Camelot;"
The window was frosted and outside it snowed. The world was blanketed in white. Trees and roads were washed down with white tears and cleansed. The view of the pond in the park was visible from the window in Golden Boy's room on the second floor of their newest house. If she leaned close enough, her breath thawed the frost that clung to the glass, and through the small, cleared space, Aurora could watch as the children and their friends skated happily over the frozen pond.
"The yellow-leaved waterlily, The green-sheathed daffodilly, Tremble in the water chilly, Round about Shalott. Willows whiten, aspens shiver. The sunbeam showers break and quiver, In the stream that runneth ever, By the island in the river, Flowing down to Camelot."
She could hear their joyous laughter - she shouldn't have been able to - but her ears picked it up like it was unavoidable. Their gloved hands held each other's tightly and their cheeks were flushed with blood. 'Faster Timmy! Faster!' 'Diana, mum said not to go near the middle!' 'Look, Georgie, look at me twirl!' It was endless. They looked like chess pieces from the window, moving of their own accord and spinning expertly on the ice.
"Four grey walls, and four grey towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers, The Lady of Shalott."
Some of them were by the side of the lake, building forts and throwing snowballs. It was an all-out war between them, when one got hit by a snowball, there was no peace until the person seeking retaliation achieved satisfaction. They were so close, and so many of them. But she wasn't allowed. She was never allowed.
"No time hath she to sport and play: A charmed web she weaves always, A curse is on her, if she stay, Her weaving, either night or day, To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be; Therefore, she weaveth steadily, Therefore, no other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott."
"Who locked her up?"
Golden Boy paused his reading, one long finger hovering above the page. "What do you mean?"
Aurora the Creature - five-years-old - with short black hair and wide, childish eyes turned around, hands still clutching the windowsill. "The Lady of Shalott. She's in the tower and she never leaves, even though there's a nice river around her house that she could swim in,"
