Weeps my human psyche (Pt 2) Insanity in the Bloodline

"The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished"? I had to do it.

The Queen was quite mad. The King may be dead. Long live the Queen!

The river recounts hearing the terrible screams from the palace all that day. Loud bloodcurdling, agonizing wails that made the weeping willow trees hanging by its bank moan and lash the air in its grief. After what seemed like forever, an awful and sudden silence then followed. River and the weeping trees felt completely helpless, they were not exactly made for motion. If only I were a mighty ocean, I could have flowed in and taken her away a long time ago, river thought with regret.

As it mused with a growing apprehension, river beheld the Mad Queen Maestrom running towards them completely covered in blood. In a god-awful tizzy, it began flowing quite contrarily. Not knowing what to do, it just took the path of least resistance and went up the down waterfall, making it harder for M. to infect him with the tainted blood which painted her from head to toe.

The queen stood by the river's bank uttering words quite unladylike for her station, while importuning the river come wash away her sins of crimson red. But the river stubbornly refused to obey her. Willow moaned and wailed quite frightfully, scaring the queen alarmingly.

Standing beneath the willow, Maelstrom turned this way and that, pondering what to do. Willow shook in agony, lashing her with its branches, urging her on.

River felt awful, it had to help her. The waters gushed down as M. ran towards its welcoming calm, river collected the queen and together they flowed away betwixt the trees, having no idea whence they go.

++++++As they traveled, M. spoke of the voices in her head. Voices which directed her to do bad things, she had no choice but to listen and obey. Everyone, including herself, had warned the king not to choose her as queen. Her entire bloodline was tainted with this madness. But he would not listen.

Maelstrom's family had the fairest and most beautiful of all the women in the land, everyone knew that, and where else would the king choose but among the best. The king was positive that his love and riches would be enough to stave off any madness. So he wooed, won her heart and wed M.

The beginning and end of madness.

++++++The queen was truly blessed with unparalleled beauty and grace. Her presence was like bright rays of light, her every movement an ode to elegance. Yet, beneath the surface of her regal composure, a storm of turmoil brewed.

Queen M., though adored by her subjects and revered by her court, felt the weight of her crown pressing down upon her soul. The responsibilities of the throne, the endless demands of statecraft, and the constant scrutiny of her every action began to erode the foundations of her sanity. The palace, once a sanctuary of splendor, became a gilded cage, its walls closing in on her with each passing day.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Queen M's sense of entrapment grew. The once vibrant gardens, filled with the scent of blooming roses and the songs of nightingales, now seemed like thorns in her flesh. The laughter of courtiers and the music of grand feasts echoed hollowly in her ears, a stark contrast to the silence that enveloped her heart.

Her nights were plagued by restless dreams, visions of freedom slipping through her fingers like grains of sand. She would wander the palace halls, her footsteps like strangers in the emptiness, seeking solace in the moonlit corridors. But the shadows taunted with secrets of despair, and the mirrors reflected a queen whose eyes were haunted by the specter of madness.

Queen Maelstrom's descent into madness was gradual, a slow unraveling of her once formidable mind. She began to hear voices, faint at first, but growing louder with each passing day. They spoke of betrayal, of plots against her, of a kingdom that would crumble without her. Paranoia took root, and she trusted no one, not even her closest advisors.

Her beauty, once a source of pride, became a cruel reminder of her isolation. She would gaze into the mirror, her reflection a stranger's face, and see the cracks forming in her facade. The weight of her crown felt heavier, the jewels cold against her skin, a stark hellish nightmare of the burdens she could no longer bear.

In her moments of lucidity, Queen M. would recall the days of her youth, when she roamed the fields with wild abandon, her laughter carried on the wind. She longed for the simplicity of those times, free from the chains of duty and expectation. But those memories were fleeting, swallowed by the darkness that consumed her mind.

The palace, once a place of grandeur and joy, became a labyrinth of despair. The queen's descent into madness was complete, her mind a fractured mosaic of fear and longing. The kingdom, unaware of their queen's torment, continued to thrive, oblivious to the silent screams that echoed within the palace walls.

The crown, once a symbol of her power, now lay heavy upon her brow, a constant reminder of the price she paid for her throne.

And so, Queen Maelstrom, envisioning herself as a tragic figure trapped in a world of her own making, her beauty a fading memory, her sanity a distant dream, was now stark staring mad.

I shall next recount the events which led to Queen M's bloody appearance at the river and the willow tree.

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Pt. 3...Coming soon in theatres everywhere.