Dear Diary,
I am so flustered I can think of anything to say, anything to write. It should not surprise me, but it does. I should not be hurt after all I said yesterday, but I am. How can a simple act hurt someone so much? How can a single kiss change someone’s entire future? I know I said that I did not love Andrew like I should, but I always thought he loved me. That he loved me beyond belief.

But it is clear, now, that he does not. I found him, behind the stables, making out with Katie-Lynn. She is another daphire, a friend of his from back home. I had always thought of her as a sweet girl. She seemed so nice when I met her, I never imaged that she would kiss my boyfriend behind my back. It hurts so much, especially since I had just let Andrew have my first kiss earlier that morning.

I cannot say I behaved as I should of when I saw Andrew with her. I yelled at him. Screamed, told him that I never wanted to see him again. That we were over, then I slapped him across the face and throw his engagement ring back at him. I shouldn’t have done that, but I couldn’t help myself. I felt like someone had stabbed a dagger in my heart. How could he do this to me?

I have taken on my normal reaction to pain, the quest for knowledge to fill my brain so that I will not have time to think of what hurts so bad. This time I am researching the history of all the wars on our country and trying to solve for myself the secrets behind them. It is a pointless task. I will never figure it out, but it will keep my mind busy.

But in researching war, I cannot realize why we have it. War is defined as a conflict carried on by a force of arms, as between nations or parties in a nation, or it defined this way, armed fighting, as a science, profession, activity, or art. War is described as an art. There will never be anything beautiful about war. It is not art, it cruel and horrible. It kills not only the brave soldiers who risk their life for a stupid cause, but also civilians who never asked to be involved and are just caught up in the fire of things.

And yet, we continue to have wars. Year after year, someone can never resist the urge to fight one for long. Life does not need to be about concurring and controlling. We need to live in peace with another. But I think some men like war, they want to go and fight and be seen as a hero in everyone’s eyes. But those men haven’t seen the realities of war. The pain it causes. The look in a mother’s eye when she hears her son is never going to return home. Her sobs at knowing he is dead. War is not a place where you can gain glory, the reality is, you are more likely to die on that field than to ever receive glory from it. And once you’re dead, you’ll realize war is not worth pain of having your loved ones deal with your death.

I know, that’s pretty deep for a fifteen year old right. Well, maybe I’m not fifteen mentally. Maybe there, I am an old grandmother. Speaking of grandmothers, I am going to visit mine soon. My grandmother is Agatha Steward, and she probably one of my favorite people in the whole world. Every time I see her she teaches me something new about Enchanterary. She is very good at it, and I enjoy learning.

I long to go to The Academy like my mother and father, but Father says it is not the place for me right now. I need to stay home and learn how to help Attilal rule, I need to provide heirs, and then maybe I can attend school. I am begging him to let me go for my sixteenth birthday. You never know, perhaps he will. But whenever I do go, I will be an enchantress like my mother and my grandmother, it will make them proud and I want too.

My ever silent friend, I love how you can distract me away from my original pain. Perhaps that is why I continue to write to you day after day after day. I must go now, princess stuff to attend too. But I will be back, you can count on it.

Your Friend,
Alanea Leanne Loraina