In a village in Turkey, at rest lay a marvelous doctor. This was not just any doctor. This exquisite doctor was a professional in every field, and the first female doctor to graduate in England, or in fact the world since 1952. The time was 2093, just about when technology wasn’t used except for medicinal purposes.Technology wasn’t used for casual purposes because it had evolved and took over our land. This became a World War 3. It lasted 50 years and the humans barely, and bravely won the war. Thus, changing how society uses it.This doctor’s name was Emma.Emma was a beautiful, intelligent and engaged 23 year-old woman. She was engaged to Alexander. Alexander was a daring,courageous self-made billionaire. Emma and Alexander had just arrived in a village in Turkey, from England. She was on a mission to help the children, and youth learn about being a doctor, and how to cope with disabled people/disabilities.She had been on this mission for one year, and is about to finish her ministry.She was prepared to face 2-faced brats, and unappreciative children.Emma was destined for success.Alexander was determined  to marry Emma. Emma said no, but she secretly loved him more than the stars and the moons. She couldn’t love Alexander though. She had royal blood and already humiliated the royal family, and therefore to regain respect she was to marry the King of Russia.But  Emma had an immense problem. She had anorexia. Only Alexander knew though. He was a model before a businessman, and knew the signs of anorexia and had told her.He had slowly fallen in love with her fragile delicate self. He had been with her for a year when he secretly asked her to marry him. She had been wishing for this moment since the day he asked her if she would go get coffee with her. She immediately said yes, but told him this was a private bond.

““Honey you have to eat this!”

“No I can’t.Stop trying to shove food down my throat! it's unhealthy to be shoving one’s food down another’s

throat.”

“ I’m no expertise in your field Miss  Emma, but I’m pretty sure not eating is even worse. I thought you were a doctor to help people live and to cure them from any medical condition; Physical or mental.”

“WELL THAT IS TOTAL BULLSHIT! YOU THINK THAT BECAUSE I’M ANOREXIC  I FUCKING NEED A RECAP OF WHO THE THE FUCK I AM, AND WHO THE FUCK I NEED TO BE? I THOUGHT YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND, THAT I WOULDN’T HAVE TO BE  TALKED TO LIKE I AM THE BIGGEST DUMBASS YOU HAVE MET IN YOUR ENTIRE EXISTENCE! I love you for being nice, and and being courageous, and being there for me in my times of transition.NOT FOR TELLING ME I’M FUCKING IMPERFECT AND WRONG!!!!“No; it's because I love you that I do this!You think I legit want you to die of starvation?How the hell do you think I would be able to carry myself? It would be my fault not feeding you, and it would haunt me for the rest of my life? love you and I want to marry you! We can’t do this; we are too deep in love to do this! I love you too much. I am going to go try to sleep this off, you can join me whenever you like.”

What have I done? Emma thought. I have turned this romantic dinner for two into a two-person duel to the death.I can’t sustain our love through these harsh fights. They may not be often but they still are something that draws our hate and anger on the battlefield, and pushes our love aside.


“Creek!”God damn it! That stupid stair always creeks while I am trying to sneak up to Alex(ander).

“Hey sugar plum!”, damn it again! He now knows I’m here.

“Well don’t you look awfully swell, mademoiselle.” Ha, he always makes me laugh when he does stupid things to make me laugh. I didn't really look that mouth-dropping though. I’m just a regular 23 year-old blond, who happens to be a doctor and the only girl in her class,that also is the only one there that cares about what they wear. Actually I’m not wearing the most flattering outfit combination either. I’m wearing one of Alex’s old modeling boulder grey sweater. It is the most comfortable sweatshirt, that makes me feel skinny.Everyone calls me a skinny bitch, but I'm really fat so I don’t eat anymore. Actually I am trying to eat more every day but it is not working too well.Alex has been helping me all the way through this journey. He has been eating with me, canceling meetings for me, the whole nine-yards. I love him so much I don't think I could live without him. He is my very heartbeat and soul.

“Sorry about earlier.” I tell him softly in his ear.He ushers me inside to our warm comfortable bed. He kisses me softly on the cheek and tells me to go sleep. While I slowly drift away I think of my parents in England right now. They are probably still furious with me for becoming a doctor, and if they found out I was engaged, they would banish my name from the royal court and make me live in a dungeon. Well, dad anyways.  Mother was actually quite happy when I became a doctor.  She told me that it was saving our world and becoming someone that people would remember. My father was so humiliated of me becoming a doctor he married me to The Ugly One. The Ugly One is our name for Brute, the Prince of Russia.The mighty and rich. Slowly Emma falls asleep think of her life.


Running. That is all I can do. Assassins everywhere. ”NO!!!!! Not my mother, not my father, not my fiancé.Stop you bastards, I love them.” I can’t run I can't hide, I can’t even save them. I can either save my parents or Alex. I am trapped in this hell of a prison. I am weak from all this running and I can't escape. This looks familiar. Aha!  This is The Ugly One’s Dungeon. He showed it to me when he gave me the royal tour. I possibly think he is trying to set a bargain. Alex or Parents? I hope this is just a dream. They strap me to  a bed and flip me upside down on top of a alligator swimming pool. Interesting for a dungeon, but classic for a super villain.They surround me and poke me in a teasing factor.

“No not to Emma do it to me!!!!!”That is Alex’s voice. Nooo!!!!! He can’t do this not for me, not for everything we have been through!!

“ALEX!!!ALEX!!”

“Yes honey?” Oh phew. I thought it was real. My dumb old brain

“Alex what time is it?”

“9:30”

“Crap!See you later honey.” I rush out into our 1995 Canary Yellow Mustang GT. I zoom over to the bazaar and music is once again blasting in my ears. I just stand there and listen for a second even though it gives me chills because it is the windiest day of the year.It brings back such good memories from my childhood. I first dance my way over to the bread section.

“Hello Recai”

“Hello Miss Emma.”

“ I have come to get the usual Recai.”

“Okay. Persian toast, Garlic and Herb , and 5 sourdough, finally my traditional Saganza. 50 lira miss.” More expensive than usual, but i wouldn’t complain he makes awesome bread.I go to get my vegetable, meat, and dairy from the usual people.175 lira. Wow I normally stay about 197 lira but today 175 which is about $97.25 cents.


“ Um, mam can you direct me  to the nearest rug shop.”

“ Down the rod and 5 tents down you will find Lane. She will sell you the best quality rugs at a fairly cheap price.”

“Thanks.”

“Anything ,but I have one question.”

“Okay?”

“Are you from around here?”

“No I am from England.”

“Me too!Where?”

“Mary Steeple”

“ Me too. I am Emma the royal princess,”

“Legit?”

“Yes I am Princess Emmabeth Mary Windsor.”

“So cool!’

“Have a great day ?”

“Luke”

“Have a great day Luke.”

“You too.”

So I rush to the car and get in faster than a lightning bolt because I feel like something is immensely wrong.I speed at 120kph. I get home zip out of the car , finding that the door is wide open. It gives me a bad knot in my stomach.There is red liquid all over the carpet. I start to panic. Is Alex okay? Is he hurt?Or is this just some dirty joke he’s playing on me?Hopefully it is a joke.

“Alex?” Nothing.

“Alex?” Nothing I move to the living room and there he is. His body is drenched in blood. I walk over to him  and lay across his chest weeping.

“WHO WOULD DO THIS!!!!! I WILL FIND YOU AND KILL YOU WITH THE SLOWEST AND MOST PAINFUL WAY I CAN IMAGINE!! YOU SHOULD GO IN CUSTODY NOW BEFORE I CAN GET TO YOUR MOTHERFUCKING BODY!! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU LITTLE SON OF A BITCH!!””


“So then you didn’t eat and the villagers called the police right?” I asked.

“Yes.  The they took his body and gave me a bowl of soup that made me drowsy.”

“ Thank you for your cooperation Miss Emma.”


The the case was solved and they found out who killed Alex. It was one of his old business rivals.  The story was he shanked him with a garden knife and threw the blood around their house. Emma is now in rehab and is looking forward to live a happy life back in England with Luke.The End!

"Get off me." I muffle sleepily.
"Yes ma'am." Windson says every stereotypical morning. Ehh, who cares. I'm tired.
"Poohshink. Claw. Swipe.
"AHH! Why is there blood on my arm? EKK! Nurse, get me a fishy covered Band-Aid!"
"Yes ma'am." Windson replies, again.
"OOH crap. I'm fully naked. Fetch Mary to dress me." I hate saying that. It makes me sound so proper. Not really what I'm for, here. I slowly apply my Band-Aid to my arm by the other fifteen.
"Hello, Lady Emma." Mary my "stylist" quotes properly.
"Never. Ever, call me Lady Emma or Lady Proper! I'm no better person than you! ! am just a regular person like everyone else in this world!" I snap loudly and ferociously.
"Yes Emma. Back to topic. Today you will wear your pastel pink, Simply Amish, short sleeved, v-necked dress.
"No I will wear my new Aeropastle, strapless, blue and green, poofy, knee dress!" This is what happens every day. Wake up, get scratched, have servants try to make me wear a pretty dress that any other fourteen year old princess/duchess would want to wear, but me. In face, any girl in the world, but me.
“Ok, mademoiselle.” Better. You’re probably by now thinking what scratched, pooshinked, and swiped me. That was my orange –striped male tabby cat from America (awesome place) named Turbonsorth.
“Plot. Plot. Plot. Plot. Plot. Plop.” Every freakin’ morning I have to go down these freakin’ white and pink marble stairs. Every freakin’ morning I get forced by Laila to put my hand on the freakin’ splintery, chocolate, oak rail. Ever freakin’ morning at eleven sharp I have to eat at the long brown walnut table (that was my dad’s mom’s dad’s dad’s dad’s dad’s) (great grandpa’s grandpa).”
“Plank.” Brry cold seat. Yum! I see sausages, bacon, and biscuits. Best. Thing. Ever (besides pasta!). Yes! It’s sausage patties, not links.
“Would you like your tea hot or warm, or would you like hot chocolate?” Petunia Fish, the proper servant. Gag me with a wooden spoon.
“Hot chocolate, of course.” Duh. Who wouldn’t want hot chocolate or cocoa on a cold morning. Hmmmm. Probably every one else in this world besides first class Brits. Munch. Munch. Munch. Munch. Yum! Yum!
“So, Elizabeth.”
“Never call me Elizabeth, Mom! My name is Emma! Your daughter who Tubonsorth loves. Tubonsorth, you cat! A fish named Bubbles who thinks he’s a whale! That’s hers. The one who has a mini peacock, named Mr. Music! Who hates being proper! Who loves dinosaurs and fishies! Whose favorite drink is root beer! Who loves you! Her name is EMMA! E-M-M-A! Yes EMMA!”
“Ok dear. Just wanted to tell you that we have the Duke of Ukraine coming over tonight. I will need for you to play the fifteen minute meditation.” Uugggggh. Stupid meditation. I want to play ‘We Are Never Getting Back Together.’
“You go talk to your friends, talk to my friends, talk to me. But, weeeee are never ever getting back together!” I accidentally sing out loud.
“What?” Mom asks.
“Nothing.” Phew!
“Whee Hoo!” Lunch Time! Then, it’s time for violaette (mini-viola, not violin. Violaette is deep. Ohhhhh yeah! I will have a chocolate and marshmallow croissant. Yum, IBC cream soda to drink. One hour of alone time to “eat.”
“Beep. Boop.” Radio on check. Crossant in microwave. Check. Having fun check!
“99.5 Hot Right Now. Number one song in America (we pay them for service) is We Are Never Getting Back Together.” Oh yeah!
“Ding.” Croissant is finally ready. Mmmmmmm. Sooo good. Oh my gosh, it’s already 1:30.
“Crunch. Crunch.” Next time maybe twenty seconds, not twenty-five.
“Ugh.” Going up stairs, and down them makes me want to vomit. At least I am going to Instrumental (a.k.a violaette).
“Emma, today we will practice Moselliotion.” Uggh. More stupid Monselliotion. I’ve been talking about it in all my lessons. Brr. Such a cold thought. I guess I’ll just have to play it for five minutes, then she practices her cello outside.
She finally left. I’ve been playing Monselliotion for half an hour, not five minutes. Now, Monselliotion or We Are Never Getting Back Together. Hard choice, but….WANGBT (you know, number one song in America).
“Plot. Plot. Plot.” Uggggggggh. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID. They made me have an extra HOUR OF ROYAL HISTORY CLASS!!!!! All because of my stupid parents wanting to show off my “proper skills!” Perfect way to torture and kill me STUPID parents!
“Don’t sit down until the Duke of Spain, not Ukraine is coming tonight. You should have known that there is no such thing.”
“Yess ma’am.
“Chink.”
“This is my daughter “
“Emma “He’s so hot! Looks like a Areopastle model! But, that’s another adventure, another day.