Freedom

The bracelet

Britannia is now thirteen, and finally a teenager. She has seen a lot at the church, and has participated in a lot of the tortures. Her mother said there was something important she wanted to talk to her about and to meet her in the family room. And she did just that, her tanned legs carrying her down the wooden staircase fastly. Once she reached the family room, she saw her mother was on the couch. Her father was nowhere to be seen, so she assumed he was at work. He was the sole income in the family, and being a police officer for the community gave him a bit of power. And a sense of pride knowing he could help others, and get them on the right path. Her mother patted the seat next to her on the velvet couch, and Britannia sat next to her. The older woman turned towards her daughter and smiled. "My dear Britannia, do you know what I have to talk to you about?" She shook her head. "You are thirteen now, which is important because?" She looked confused. "Because I'm a teenager?" Her mother shook her head gently. "No, because you now are going to be gifted something very special." Britannia thought she knew what her mother was talking about, as her green eyes looked at the shiny silver bracelet on her mother's wrist. Her mother saw this and smiled sweetly. "Am.... am I going to be gifted your bracelet?" She nodded her head. "Yes you will, my child." She slipped the bracelet off, and put it on Britannia's wrist with ease. It clung to her wrist, almost like it was perfectly molded for it. "It fits perfectly... I thought it would be a bit bigger, but oh well. I hope you like it and take very good care of the bracelet, Britannia." Britannia stood up and smiled, gently hugging her older mother. "Thank you so much, mother. I promise to take care of this bracelet and to always treasure it." Her mother smiled once more and ruffled her now longer brown hair. "Good." And with that, Britannia went back upstairs to her room.

That night Britannia spent most of her night reading or writing in her journal. She didn't like to do it, but her mother insisted she pick up a hobby. So she did just that. Picking up a feather and dipping it in some pitch black ink, she began to write on the yellow-ish paper.

2nd of May, 200X

Dearest diary,

Today I was gifted my mother's beautiful bracelet. It fits on me well, and seems as if it was custom made for me. It molds to my arm like a baby duck clings to its mother. Plus it's really pretty. I don't think i'll ever take it off. And I forgot to mention my earrings I was gifted from HIM. Well, nobody knows THEY are actually a HE, but I do. I've seen him, well not his face but his body. And I can tell you for sure he's male. He has this... holy aura about him. Like he's a good guy, but there's also something about him that scares me. I feel like he's hiding something, but I don't know what. I'll figure out, and write to you again sometime soon, dearest diary.

With love,

Britannia

Britannia spent about thirty minutes writing in her diary, making sure to tell her about her day. Her diary was female by the way, but she has to give her a name. That she would do later on. Right now she was tired, from everything that happened today. So she decided to go into the washroom and get ready for bed. She would shower tomorrow she decided. Putting on her pure white nightgown, Britannia put her nightcap on after she brushed her back length brown hair. The hat, as silly as it looked was supposed to protect her from demons and bad dreams. And it seemed to work well as she hasn't had a bad dream in years thanks to it. Nor has she seen a demon. Ever that is. Shortly after, she left the washroom and returned to her bedroom. She climbed into the bed and got under her pastel green blankets. Adjusting her night cap, she turned off the vintage white lamp on the bedside table and went to sleep. Not a thing on her mind as she was happy.

In her dreams, she was running. In a field full of pure white flowers. She was chasing someone or something. She was looking for answers. The person she was running after promised her to reveal their idenity. Somehow, the person wore similar robes to HIM. She had a feeling inside of her telling her it was HIM. She ran faster, her breath becoming harsher as she was determined to catch up with him. But she couldn't. No matter how much she ran, HE was faster. Then HE stopped. She finally caught up to HIM when she realised HE had HIS hood down, and she could see HIS flowy white or pale blond short hair. Right as HE turned around to her and before she could see HIS face, she woke up.

She looked over at the antique clock on her nightstand. '02;34' read back to her. She deemed her dream not good or bad, but a strange one. She went into her dresser drawer, and pulled out a small pack of biscuits she had hidden for whenever she secretly got hungy. Pulling out the back, she decided to eat a few pieces. She smiled as she ate the small desserts. They reminded her of something her mother would make for her when she was a little girl. She missed those times, the times when she was little and carefree. She was still carefree per say, but she also had to mature and help around the church. Britannia wishes she was still six, even eight. But she knows she can't go back in time. Putting the cookies back in the dresser drawer, she climbed back in bed and went back to sleep.