It’s been....way too many days since I left home. There's a sharp pang in the back of my mind because I was certain they'd find me by now. My parents, my older sister. Someone. But the only people looking for me are the queen's foot soldiers, and they're not really looking for me but for the lovely boy I've had the unfortunance to make my travels with. Since our narrow escape in that crazy asylum, and an even more bumpy ride in Hickory, things certainly haven't slowed down. But the weather's getting warmer, and I must say the vagabond life fares better in these climates. It's almost...enjoyable.
I've met a series of rather interesting people. A girl trapped in a tower...another in a cabin of the hunter...mental patients who seem to have been to that strange dream world I've been...but no, I shouldn't compare myself with mental patients. I've got to put that out of my mind. But I still haven't seen the city, not in its full glory, and I haven't even made it to the castle yet. I'm begining to think, though, and they're very odd thoughts, that maybe dancing at the court isn't the life for me.
Jules had the idea to go to the island. We made it to Salmons were some very high profile types were already moving in for vacation, but instead found ourselves on a leaky boat in the middle of the night run by sleaze bag fishermen who probably do dealings with pirates. Not that I would put it past Jules to do dealings with pirates himself. By dawn though, we came to this beautiful tropical paradise and so many things have been forgetten in the sun, by the tide. Jules even promised to take me to the zoo here, provided the animal liberation witches front doesn't make a surprise appearance. Bother.
For now I'm content to sitting in the sand in a dress I just bought, an old hat, sipping minty drinks and slurping icecream, and watching the turquoise sea. I feel like I'm drifting into it already, and we've only been here two days.
Jules is yelling at me. Saying something about meeting certain someones tonight. Somethings happening. I can tell. Trouble follows that boy where ever he runs off. It's a shame he's so damned attractive. 
I feel so far removed from the person I was when I slipped out that window. Yet, I also feel like time is standing still, and I'll be sixteen forever yet.
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{Just a little random update on poor Angelina P. Frost. I made this WEEKS ago and wanted to actually write something, anything, to go with it.}
By the way, this is set #1400
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