It was just another day. Just another long, endless day. Just like the one before it, filled with daydreams, longing, sorrow, and, inevitably, a shower tears. Another day wallowing in self-pity, with no one to comfort her.
Amelie gazed out into the expanse of cloudy landscape isolating her from the world. She wondered if she attempted jumping from the window's perch if she would only find herself laying back in the tower room's bed once more, just like the mysterious mirror and the entire chamber which encompassed her. Probably. But even with the sorrowful thoughts in her mind, thoughts to end her own misery, she could not make herself do it.
Only if her Father had not thrown her out of the palace in his rage of fear, believing Amelie to have herself become a witch of horrific, ogerly appearance. It was then that Mathilda had snatched her, outside the safety of the Palace walls, waiting there for her as if she knew what was to happen. It was then that she stole her away to this accursed tower, locking her away from her love and all that what she possessed in life.
Where was her Prince? Had a spell been set upon him as one had been set upon her? Was he jailed as she was? Had wicked Mathilda given him some draught of Love Potion so that his heart would now be hers?
The very thought had her in a fury of madness again, going between tears and screaming. Breathless, she threw her ugly face into her pillows and hid there.
She was losing her sanity. But it did not matter. No one cared.
Amelie wanted to just rot away. That was likely what was to happen up in this accursed tower room.