|- For Every Girl Who Thinks She's Met Her Prince-|...Well I Have...Literaly. And He Has A Secret. (Prolouge)

(-I’m am sooo sorry it took so long to write! We’re moving…AGAIN. Whoop-de-freeqin'-doo! So I’ve been so busy packing and stuff, sorry if this chapter ain’t all that. Thanks for reaaddinng! -)
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“Arms up.”

I shoot my arms in the air.

“Turn.”

And I do.

“Arms out.”

I shoot my arms to the sides.

“Turn.”

Another spin.

“Now arms up again.”

Instead of doing what I am, told I let my arms drop and slump my shoulders.

I groan “I am sooo tired of this!”

I am standing in the middle of a dressing room, WHICH I have been in since eight o clock this morning.

Yeah, it’s FOUR.

I’m surrounded by women who are scurrying around the room, picking out cloth, taking measurements, sticking pins and needles in me.

Yes, that’s right; I am getting my wedding dress made.

Oh, Joy.

You know how this is supposed to be all exciting and happy like the stuff you see on TV?

All that’s a load of bull.

It is bloody torture.

“Now, Rayne.” My mom begins “You know we have to get this done, the wedding is in fourteen days.”

"But. I. Have. Been. In. Here. For. Over. Eight. Hours!” I tell her in a strangled voice.

“Just a little bit longer!” She promises.

“You said that four hours agooo!” I whine stomping my foot like Donny does when we tell him to go to bed.

“Princess?” a little woman with graying hair says.

I turn to look at her.

“Which do you prefer?” she asks while holding up two pieces of cloth. “Eggshell? Or light beige.”

Eggshell, or light beige…They both look like WHITE to me!

I give her a strained smile, “Uh the…beige.” I say, pointing to the one in her right hand.

She looks at me strangely. “You mean the eggshell?”

It takes every once of my strength not to throw my hands up and yell, WHAT THE HELL IS THE DIFFREENCE?!?

I nod,
“Yes. The eggshell.”

The lady given a polite smile and walks away.

I turn and glower at my mother.

She glowers right back. “You have no one to blame but yourself, Rayanalise. If you hadn’t spent the last week up there in your room with Prince Alekzander doing God knows what, we could have finished this much earlier."

I can’t help but grin.

She was right.

Alek and I had done nothing but be together.

“Queen Avangelana?” The little from before woman says.
“We’re finished for today.”

I almost shriek with joy.

“Really?” I ask, feigning disappointment. “We’re done? Oh darn! Well I guess we’ll just have to head on home!”

I turn and begin to walk out of the room when my mom cuts my happiness short.

“Not so fast my dear Princess, we have A LOT more work to do. There are the decorations, the bridesmaid’s dresses, OH! And we still have to send out invitations!”

I groan, “Moommm! All that stuff doesn’t matter! As long as it’s Alek I’m marrying, That’s all I need, I’m perfectly happy!”

I hoped that my little speech there would have some sort of effect on my mother. Maybe she would go ‘Awww! How sweet! Of course you may go home and spend time with your future husband!’

But instead what I get is “You may not care about this wedding, but I do! I’ve been dreaming of this day ever since you were born! Now hurry up!”

The next few hours go on non-stop, there were a few times that I think, I actually, passed out from exhaustion.

When I finally get home I go right upstairs and collapse on the bed, Alek is out having dinner with his mother.

I sigh,

I’m all alone.

For about seven seconds.

“MOMMA!! YOU’RE HOME!”

Donny runs into the room on the bed and begins to jump up and down.

I groan. “Donny, mommy’s very, very tired and she needs some quiet, okay?”

Donny stops jumping and sits down crossed legged on the bed. “Okay momma, sorry. I’ll be quiet.”

I sigh and nod, “Good.”

And it’s quiet.

For about seven seconds.

“Hey momma? Where have you been?”

I take a deep breath, and calm myself down. “Out getting ready for the wedding Donny, you know that. Now please, quiet.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Silence.
Pssht. Right.

“Hey momma—“

“Donny!” I interrupt.

“Sorry!” he yells in return.

And then finally quiet, REAL quiet. For a span of more than seven seconds. Which, now that I’m thinking about it, is quite strange for Donny.

I open one of my eyes, to see what he’s doing.

He’s biting his lip likes he’s concentrating, and he’s picking at one of the scars on his left arm.

“Donny!” I yell at him.

“What’d I do now!?” He yells back.

I reach out and a grab his arm, I run my fingers over the scar. I am filled with such anger and hate, and sadness.

I look at Donny to see that he’s looking down.

“Donny,” I whisper. “Are you ever gonna tell me what happened?”

He doesn’t look at me, and he doesn’t speak.

“Donny,” I try again. “I’m your mother now, I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you. Donny, please.”

His eyes start to fill with tears.

“I-" He starts. “My father…My old father… He didn’t like me. My mother died. When I came. And he hated me.”

The tears run down his cheeks. “I don’t know what I did so wrong; I tried to be good, honest! I tried really, really hard!”

I hold him close to me. “Its okay Donny, I know you did. I know. I wont let anyone hurt you…I promise, I wont.”

“He told me that he would make me pay for what I did to her…He would—“

I hush him.

I begin to rock him back and forth as I feel the tears come to my own eyes.

“How could you possibly remember all of this? You’re just a baby.” I press my lips on his forehead. “You’re just my baby.”

He quickly looks up at me.

“But I do.” He tells me. “I remember everything, always. I never forget.”

He rests his head back on me. “That’s why I’m so smart.”

That would have made me laugh if I want hurting for him so badly.

I held on to Donny for the longest time, until he fell asleep.

Suddenly, when I’m about to fall asleep someone burst into the bedroom.

“Princess!” He yells, it’s a servant.

I shush him. “Shh! The little one is asleep.”

But the man doesn’t lower his voice; it only gets louder and more urgent.
“Princess it is an emergency! It is about the young Prince! There’s someone here to see him!”

I move my hand in a shooing motion. “Whoever it is, I’m sure they can wait until morning.”

The man shakes his head. “No he cant, he demands to see, the boy.”
He pauses. “He says he’s his father…His real father.

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(-D’you know what’s funny? I just found out that ALL of my brothers have read my story…Like seriously. I fully told them NOT to…Which, evidentaly, in brother speak is like giving them permission. A bunch of them are all like “Hey! It’s not fair! How come Raph gets to be in the story?!? What about the rest of us?” and I go. “But see guys, in the story Raphs an ass which balances everything out!” This seems to satisfy all of them. ‘Sept for Raph…=) -)