Abandonment is one word to describe Evelyn Ward's childhood.
Known as an orphan freak and paranoid schizophrenic, she was dragged through years of therapy after admitting to hearing whispering voices and seeing creatures and living shadows.
...
The following week had to have been the calmest, most uneventful time I had ever experienced, but at the same time the most wonderful and exciting. Every morning I woke up in my comfortable bed, showered under an endless stream of glorious hot water, dressed in my oversized walk-in closet and went to eat breakfast with Nydea.
Nydea, who was shaping up to be a wonderful friend, would show me around the estate, explore the gardens with me, and never hesitated to answer any of my questions.
But my favorite part of each day was when my mother took hours out of her busy schedule to spend time with me. Sometimes we talked about nothing or everything. She asked questions about my childhood, about my happy memories -- all of which I could count on one hand. She would ask about the bad times, the bitter memories, every tragic detail that made up my life because she cared, and mourned the fact she hadn't been there to stop it, because she wanted to know the childhood I'd had in her absence and the woman I had grown up to be on my own.
In turn, she told me her own stories. Of her own childhood as Princess, to her life and duties as Queen. And patiently, she tutored me on the history and intricacies of our realm and its hierarchy, on the responsibilities of being a leader and a ruler.
And when I went to bed at night, I was happier and more content than I ever remember being. And without the shadows haunting my every step, I could rest easy in comfort and safety.
The first day of my second month in the palace dawned on a much different chain of events.
A rapid knocking on my door woke me before the sun had fully risen. "Evelyn?" Nydea's voice chirped through the door, much more cheerful than should be allowed at such an ungodly hour of the morning. "Are you awake?"
Groaning, I sat up as she peeked her head into my room. "I am now." My voice cracked in a scratchy whisper rather than the growl that had been my intention. "Did you need something, or are we all about to perish in a blazing inferno?"
She blinked, her brown eyes muddling with confusion a second before she laughed and shook her head. "You're funny -- nothing's on fire, silly. Her Grace has requested that you join her for a morning meeting with two high fae. I thought I'd help you choose something appropriate to wear."
"By 'something appropriate', I assume you mean formal?"
She nodded.
"Alright." With a groan and a stifled yawn, I rolled out of bed and started toward my bathroom. "I'm going to shower. You have full reign of my closet -- have at it."
She ran to the massive closet while I shut myself in the bathroom, turned the shower to hot and jumped in, savoring the relaxing calm the steam on my body brought me.
The water had turned my pale skin prune-like by the time I gathered the courage required to leave the shower and face the mountain of luxury fabrics and elegant dresses I was sure awaited me back in my room with Nydea.
The nightmare was even worse than imagined as I emerged from the steam-filled bathroom. Immediately assaulted by a poof of blue silk, I spluttered and pushed the dress from my face. "Try not to suffocate me, hmm?" The comment was only partially teasing.
"Sorry." She withdrew the dress and held it up against her petite form. "Do you like it? I think the blue suits your skin very well."
Grimacing as I took in the layers of tulle beneath the silk, I tried to force an encouraging smile onto my face. "It's a bit... Much." The grimace won out.
"Okay." She set it aside and reached for another one out of the pile. "How about this?"
While the shimmering green fabric she held up was, admittedly, pretty, the thought of me dressed in something so lavish was laughable. And laugh I did, but still, Nydea wasn't deterred.
Dragging me over to the stack she had gathered, we sat for over an hour while she stuffed me into dress after dress trying to find one I could accept wearing. The ordeal almost reminded me of shopping with Chelsea, but Chelse had long since given up on getting me to wear something so extravagant -- with the exception of Halloween when I wasn't allowed to say no. And she only ever forced me into dresses for amusement -- both hers and mine.
"You're not used to dresses, are you?" Nydea giggled as I struggled into a pale blue dress with silver lace overlays.
I snorted my agreement. "You think? I don't understand this. What's the point in having a zipper and buttons in the same spot?"
She shrugged and shooed my grasping hands away, zipping up the back and fastening the clasps with her nimble fingers. Twisting my hair into place on my head and securing it with a clip, she spun me around and sighed in aw before pulling me to the full-length mirror.
It was... a dress. A bit tight around the waist -- too tight really. The fitted bodice squeezed against my ribs, but from the hips down it flowed nicely without being poofy. I'd never in a million years pick it out of my closet to wear, but it by far wasn't the worst.
Tired of drowning in the dresses, I forced a smile. "It'll work."
"You look beautiful. Fit for a Princess," she assured me.
As difficult as it had been -- as I had been -- without her help it would have taken eternity and a day, or I may have even given up forever ago. But while appreciation and gratitude for her assistance and patience filled me, I couldn't help but think of what Chelsea would say if she could see me.
No one likes a barbie doll, Evie. Or her favorite: You look like a stuffed chicken.
While Nydea had turned out to be a loyal friend, I missed Chelsea. Her brutal honesty, her zealous sense of humor, and endless ability to make me laugh.
There was a hole in my chest that her friendship had always filled. A hole I had torn open when I said goodbye, and I hadn't even given her the real reason why I had left.
I missed my best friend. My best friend to whom I was the worst.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Should Evelyn have told Chelsea the truth? Do you think it would have made a difference? Have you ever had to say goodbye to a close friend? How did you deal with the loss? Let me know in the comments. I love hearing what you have to say!
