So this a story I wrote for a young writers competition a while back, and while I didn’t win (pfft. The judges obviously don’t know greatness when I send it to them in the mail. pfft), I like it, probably more than some of my other stories… anyway:
Katherine the Witch
Part I of x
June, 1584; Elizabethan Times in England.
Katherine Amcotts hated travelling, and it was a long road to Hatfield Manor, her Majesty’s summer abode, worse again in the infernal dresses she was forced to wear. But as she realised her precarious position in court more and more, she recognised the urgent need to stay in her Majesty’s good graces. Katherine believed she was slowly worming her way into Queen Elizabeth’s good books, but far more slowly than she would have liked.
It is a dark, stormy night, the first rain in months, and a young Katherine is lying on her bed, tears seeping out from under her eyelids. Her mother, Margaret, is downstairs, preparing a meagre dinner for Katherine’s two younger brothers, but not for the fragile-seeming youth crying into her pillow.
“Katherine?” a sharp, piercing voice called, from across the camp they had made for the night.
Katherine sighed to herself.
“Yes, Mrs. Garrett?”
“Her Majesty’s legs are acting up again, would you mind…?”
“No, Mrs. Garrett.”
Half an hour later Katherine walked back to her tent, marvelling at how easy it all was. Despite the Queen’s many guards and political standing, if she had a weakness it was a stubborn determination to be seen as eternally youthful, invincible. She could be dying slowly, painfully, and would still go out for her hunting, but then, Katherine thought to herself, this really was the case.
Either way, her Majesty’s pride made Katherine’s job so much easier.
A few weeks ago, Katherine, having little else to do, had crept into Margaret’s chambers, and taken a book. Katherine had been astonished, for not only was the tome written clearly in a poignant black ink upon eggshell-white paper, it was bound in black leather. She wondered at the exorbitant price it must have cost, especially when Katherine’s family was not at all what was considered wealthy, even in the unprosperous village they lived in, and her mother could barely read. The price of this single book could’ve kept her whole family fed and clothed for months. Katherine turned to the first page, and stared at it. It was completely incomprehensible.
Sorry about the font… Ah well.
So did you like it? Tell me what you think in the comments, or whether you actually want to read more, or any tips you might have? Pleease? That is, if you exist.
Kisses, kisses, merci beaucoup!