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 Of Lordships and Losses

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Ballad Of The Fool
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Ballad Of The Fool


Female Number of posts : 1691
Roleplay Name : Savannah Stark
Awards : Of Lordships and Losses Balladdecmotm

Of Lordships and Losses Empty
PostSubject: Of Lordships and Losses   Of Lordships and Losses EmptyThu Oct 06, 2011 8:24 pm

[This contains some depressing stuff so yeah. I hope you enjoy it regardless. And as a disclaimer--I do not have a sister.]


Let me tell you a story about my sister. Her name was Amelia and she was barely passed the age of twenty.

My name? Oh that doesn’t really matter.

My sister was young and beautiful. She was so carefree and she cherished the world around her. My sister was also deaf. No, she wasn’t born deaf. There had been a terrible accident. She had been in a dreadful car accident and had almost barely made it out. But she lived and my mother thanks the heavens every day. Unfortunately she had lost her hearing. Amelia was never really the same afterwards.

Before the accident, she was very talented in everything she did; she liked to call herself an artist and would laugh when I would make a joke about it. She always knew how to see the beauty in the world, even when life was at it darkest hour.

My sister passed away a few weeks ago.

Many days we would stand by the window and watch the cars roll by. She would watch the trees sway and the children laughing as they walked passed the house. She would often tell me how much she hated living in the silence, then turn to me with her gray-green eyes with a weak smile, “What does it sound like?” I would write to her and she would smile and laugh, “I can imagine.”

Some days after the accident, she would just sit near the window. Sometimes she would cry. Most days she held it back.

Some days she tells me that she can hear their voices.

Amelia loved to read, so I assumed it was only natural that she could picture the characters in her head. I also assumed that it was the only thing that kept her sane in her world of silence. She would read all kinds of stories, but in particular, stories of knights and lordships. I never really enjoyed the tales of battles and chivalry, but if that was what made Amelia happy. I only wanted to see Amelia happy.

But perhaps I allowed her a little too much happiness from reading. She became obsessed. She would often tell me about the stories she read and about one Lord whom had become her favorite all of them.

“Lord Petyr.” Her voice would hold so much admiration for someone who would never exist. She would tell me of his riches and of how she could hear him talk to her when she sat near the window, as if he became her savior from the silence. She would imagine him whispering sweet words of how he would rescue her from her silent realm.

She began to swear that she could hear again and that it was a miracle, that God had granted her mercy! She skipped around merrily, but when I tried to speak to her, she made not a sound in reply. Perhaps she was beginning to go insane and I was not completely surprised if she had.

One day, everything had come crashing down. I had been sitting in my room when I suddenly heard screaming coming from the front of the house. It was Amelia. I quickly jumped to my feet and rushed to her—had she hurt herself? Did someone try to break into the house? “What is it?! What’s wrong?!” I yelled out, forgetting for a moment that she could not hear me.

I hadn’t even realized that I was panting as I rushed to her and quickly looked around the room. The door was locked shut and I rushed to Amelia. She held the book to her chest and when I tried to pull it away, she only pulled it tighter to her chest. “He’s dead!” She shouted, “My Lord Petyr is dead!” She cried and cried and there was nothing I could do to calm her screams. All I could do was hold her until she finally calmed down. She continued to repeat those words, even when she had calmed down and her face was blotchy with stray tears.

I wanted to write to her and say that it was only a story and that all stories continue on, but she wouldn’t even look at it. “He’s dead. My Lord Petyr is dead. He cannot save me now.”

I didn’t know what to tell her then. All I could do was hold her and hope for the best. After that, Amelia refused to pick up another book and allowed herself into a depression. She wasn’t eating and she would barely drink. She would still sit by the window and would make no move when I came up next to her, but she would not speak to me. She never spoke to me anymore.

I tried to give her another book but she would look at me with those gray-green eyes with grief and I knew it was no use. I tried to help her move on, tried to get her to eat, tried to get her to leave the house. I tried to get her what she needed, but she would have none of it.

One morning I found her lying in bed with the book in her arms. I tried to wake her for breakfast, but her skin had gone cold and an empty pill canister fell from the side of the bed. My strong Amelia had killed herself. I broke down on the floor.

A few hours later (or at least what I thought was a few hours later), I calmed myself and pulled the book from her. A note fell out from it—‘I’m sorry. I couldn’t bare the silence by myself any longer, but he promised to meet me on the other side and that I would hear the most beautiful things when I saw him. I had to save myself from the silence. I hope one day you can understand. I love you – Amelia.

She was buried with the book, opened on the page where the reader would first meet her lord; Lord Petyr bowed before the woman in front of him, his gray-green eyes watched her with the utmost intensity, “You must be the lady I’ve heard so much about, but they failed to mention your beauty. It is a wonderful pleasure to have finally met you, my dear lady.”
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