Monica's+Page

Dear Diary, it is such a wonderful feeling being back in my childhood town in Denmark near Elsinore Castle. Marvelous memories occurred here with my old friend Ophelia. Oh how I have missed her, seeing her today made me feel as if I were a child again. We used to spend our days running in the courtyard and playing childish games such as tag. Sadly, that was all washed away with a blink of an eye. I remember the day well, many years ago my father, Stephen, got into a hurtful argument with Ophelia’s father Polonius. To this day I haven’t a clue what the topic of the row was about, all I know is we had to flee immediately. I was absolutely crushed, I did not get to say my farewells to Ophelia and explain our sudden departure. Although I was depressed with our leaving Denmark, Sweden was full of life. My family and I settled down in a small village for ten years until the unbearable happened; my father caught a deathly plague and passed. My mother, Elizabeth, and I were heartbroken. My father had a well-paying job as a blacksmith and brought in all of our spending’s. With my father gone, my mother became a maid for several neighbours and I, at the age of twenty, became a wig maker’s assistant. After three years of hard labour and days filled with tears of grief, my mother wanted nothing more but to leave Sweden for good. All the happy memories we shared were suffocating us, completely dreadful. Being frugal and poor, my mother wished to stay within Sweden, but it was I who suggested returning to Denmark. My mother liked my idea and set off on our journey the next day. I was overfilled with joy when I saw Ophelia for the first time in years. She hasn’t changed one bit, still reciting her little jokes from childhood. After our long but much needed catch up, we left for her house to have dinner. Ophelia and I drank out tea while the chicken boiled over the fire. I was not surprised that boiled chicken was our dinner; it had been both our favourites ever since we could chew. The table chairs we sat in were wooden and had designs of flowers carved on the backs. While eating, we shared stories of our past and discussed the present. Time flew by and it was time for my departure to my new home. Our new home was difficult to find in the growing darkness, I opened my eyes wide to catch all the details. Then I spotted my mother in the window of a house ahead. Once inside, I went straight to my cot, took my treasured painting of my father and kissed it. Ever since his death it has been my routine to do so before I sleep. My new cot was lumpy and deformed, but it will do. I am excited to live the rest of my life here in Denmark, with my loving mother and faithful friend.