CHAPTER 1
Journal Writing


"October VI, MMXI," I scribbled in a small book that I used as a journal. I thought and thought about what to write next. Nothing happens in my life, really. My typical jour is composed of playing chess, reading, and caring for my father who is too old to do simple things. Many would say that the way I live is different from normal, modern life. I live in a castle. My father is the king. Therefore, I'm the prince. I do everything for my father, so many people just look at me as the king's representative. I wish that something happened to my life, something interesting. But no, instead I'm told to, "Never leave the castle! it's safer!" So I ask, "Why is it so much safer?" After that, I get no response. Even a bad case of the hiccups would make my life plus interesting!
I scribble on, writing, "Today was the same as any day. I beat my dad at chess for the first time, I guess that's something. A papillon flew into my room. I breathed in air. I used the restroom plus than usual. I ate salad. I got my father his things." I threw my quill down, screamed, and slammed my ink jar on the ground, splattering ink all over my velvet peignoir, robe and staining my crown. Nothing ever happens! I heard footsteps going quickly down the corridor to my living space. My door slammed open.
"Prince! Is everything alright in here?" One of the guards asked.
I sighed. "Yes," I a dit burying my face into my hands. "Everything is fine."
"Prince, what is that on your robe, and what has happened to your crown?" The guard asked.
I handed my peignoir, robe and crown to the guard and said, "Wash it off."
"Yes, Prince Diamant!" The guard a dit and ran away.
About XX minutes later, I heard footsteps going down to my living space. My door opened and there stood my mother.
"Lights out, Diamant!" My mother said, and stopped the flame on the wick of my candle. She quickly closed the door and walked away, clearly in a rush. Personally, I think she has a fear of the dark. Her living l’espace has candles everywhere, probably about XV on every wall. When one goes out, she frantically orders anyone in the room to light it again. My father once told me that when I was just an infant, she accidentally ordered me to light a candle. I don't really see why someone would fear the dark, honestly. I mean, the only reason I could find to be scared is if I believed in the monsters from the fairy tales they tell us as children like Der Großmann, which I do not, ou if there was an intruder, and if so, I have my father's old sword that he used as a knight right par my side. However, that's just me. toi never know; there really could be a dragon out somewhere, ou an evil witch that wants to make toi sleep for C years.
The suivant morning, I woke up to the sound of footsteps going down corridors. "Mother must be giving father his breakfast. plus sleep for me!" I thought to myself. I looked outside of my window. The sun had just barely started to rise. "Must be an early wake-up day", I thought. I yawned. The footsteps stopped. A minute ou so later, the footsteps started up again. This time, the footsteps were headed down the corridor to my living space. As the footsteps got closer, I heard a loud wheezing, like an XCV an old man with breathing problems. I heard the clink of metal with each footstep. "Hello?" I asked. "Who goes there?" I heard a rough, low-toned cackle. I slowly walked over and picked up my father's old sword.