This place. These horrid walls. They hold me in this filthy room, this stiffling room.
How many long days have I been here? I used to count. I used to actually care about how long I’d been in here.
If only I could see the sun one last time. To gaze at it longingly is all I need.
I used to feel, you know. I used to feel emotions, like happiness, melancholy, love.
Yes, I used to love.
I was proud. Too proud, I suppose. I was going to be a queen. The queen of England.
But, like so many others I have been hiden away. My kingdom, my life has been stolen away.
One day, I know, I will escape. I will be the queen. I will reclaim my throne. My sister will pay.