The Execution Of Queen Anne

*****I NEED TO ADD THAT THIS IS FOR MY FUND. OF VIDEO CLASS. WE HAD TO LEARN TO WRITE WITHOUT USING INNER EMOTIONS AND THOUGHTS. I COULD NOT SAY SHE WAS SAD I HAD TO SHOW HER CRYING. I WANT YOU TO KEEP IN MIND WHILE READING THAT THIS IS MENT TO BE VISUAL. PICTURE IN YOUR HEAD WHILE YOUR READING, IF YOU CAN PICTURE QUEEN ANNES LAST MOMENTS THE STORY DID ITS JOB. KEEP THIS IN MIND WHEN RATING ALSO*****






The year is 1536 the sun shone bright and warm in London England on that May afternoon.  Twelve year old Catherine Carey’s small heels clicked as she climbed up the stone steps of the infamous tower.  In her hands, a small metal plate of bread and a tin mug of wine.  As she reached the top of the stairs she drew in a deep breath and lightly pushed open the large wooden door in front of her.  She entered the small room to find Queen Anne peering out the only window.  The room was cool and dark since the small window provided very little light.  A small undisturbed bed sit in one corner of the room, the sheets so stained and torn they looked as if they had been greatly overused.  A small wooden desk sat in the other corner with a wooden chair.  The wood was worn and cracked in places, a ink well and a piece of parchment lay still on the desktop. The walls were covered with names and tally marks that had been carved deep into the stone. The floor was simply stone, nothing more not even hay.  It was just plain cold stone.
  Catherine entered the room and curtsied as deep as she could without spilling the contents of the plate and mug.  “Your Majesty” she said timidly as she raised herself from her curtsy.  The Queen still didn’t move from her window.  Catherine walked slowly to the wooden desk and placed the food down on its surface, the clink of the metal hitting the wood echoed in the nearly bare room.  She turned to stare at the Queen for a moment, her eyes examined her.  Anne was wearing her hood  back farther on her head.  Her long deep brown hair lay loosely on her back. She wore a dark grey gown plunged low at the neck exposing her tan skin.  Catherine curtsied again and turned to leave.
         “Wait” Anne cried out, her voice cracking a little.  Catherine stopped obediently in her steps and turned to Anne.  “Yes, your Majesty?” she asked.  “Stay with me Catherine, it would be a great comfort to have my niece at my side.  Catherine looked into the Queens dark eyes, they were puffy but still dark and mysterious.  Catherine bowed her head “Yes of course” she said calmly.  The wooden desk chair creaked and cracked even with the weight of Catherine’s tiny body.  Catherine continued to examine the Queen, waiting for her to speak.  She now noticed Anne’s dress was trimmed with fur and she wore a tight pearl choker with the golden B for Boleyn dangling from her thin neck.
         Catherine simply wore a dark green gown with a low square neck that tied at the top of the neckline.  Her skirt was flowing as was the queens but not nearly as elaborate.  “Lady Anne?” Catherine boldly spoke out.  Anne looked up  her dark eyes meet catherine bright brown eyes.  “Yes, niece” Anne replied.  “Are you afraid?” Anne’s eyes grew wide and tears began to fall down her precious cheeks. Anne locked eyes once again grasping her nieces hands.
         At that moment heavy footsteps echoed up the tower steps.  A tall heavy man with deep brown eyes and short black hair stood in the doorway.  Anne stood before him as he bowed to her.  Catherine looked up at him and curtsied.  “Good morning Constable” she said gracefully.  He nodded in acknowledgment and looked back at Anne.  His eyes fixed on her for a moment and he drew in a breath.  “Your majesty, it is time.” Catherine put her hand on her mouth to keep from gasping.  Anne looked at the Constable, then at catherine.  She took a breath and smiled as she wiped her pretty tan face.  “I heard say the executioner was very good, and I have little neck” she gently wrapped her thing fingers around her neck and looked to the ground.  A teardrop fell from her face, she bravely looked up again and said “I shall be known as the headless Queen”
           Catherine, Anne and the Constable walked down the tower stairs where the overwhelming cheers and cries of the public leaked into the walls.  They exited the door onto the bright green spring grass.  As they crossed the grass the block was closer and closer.  The Constable and Anne stopped at the stairs to the platform.  He helped Anne up the wooden steps, Catherine followed. Anne now stood on a large wooden platform covered in hay with a large wooden block, a block just brig enough for her pretty neck.  Anne stepped forward and looked into the crowd, the crowd fell silent to listen to There Queens last words.  Catherine stood at the back of the platform as she watched a large overweight man climb the stairs.  He was wearing all black including a black hood.  Catherine bowed her head briefly and watched as he removed a large sword from his side.  The sword gleamed in the sunlight and catherine began to shake.
         Catherine tried to calm herself but tears began to stream as she caught the end of her Royal aunts last words.  “Oh lord have mercy on me, to god I commend my soul!”. Catherine stepped forward tears pouring down her young pale cheeks.  The Queen kneeled as Catherine removed her aunts hood from her gorgeous long black hair and covered those beautiful black eyes with a blind fold.  She leaned down and kissed the Queen.  She stepped back and watched wide eyed as the man dressed in black raised his sword and Anne lay her pretty neck with her pearl B choker on the wooden block.  Catherine’s tears kept coming and as the man counted two three catherine Squealed in horror and closed her eyes.  Then it was done.  Queen Anne was no more.