Duchess of Gotzendorf | Teen Ink

Duchess of Gotzendorf

May 21, 2013
By ChristinKarr GOLD, Solana Beach, California
ChristinKarr GOLD, Solana Beach, California
16 articles 0 photos 1 comment

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"If you want to change the world, pick up your pen and write." Martin Luther


Duchess of Gotzendorf

My grandfather, Grand Duke of Gotzendorf, always told us the same story over and over again. When my grandfather, Wilhelm Hartauer Von Frauenstein was a duke for only five short years, the war began the war that destroyed everything in its path. Green grass overcame the thousand acres, surrounded by brick walls, and the castle was constructed of the same grey brick. It stood four stories high with many windows that allowed the light shine in the majestic castle. One fateful day a confidential informant warned my grandfather of the trouble that was coming his way. He fled to the United States; the only place where the war would not know his stature. I once asked him why he never told any other stories. My grandfather explained that he always told the same story because it was the only one we needed to know by heart.

My grandfather passed away when I was only eight. We carried the tragedy of his sudden death with us for years. My two younger sisters Rose and Danielle all felt the pain of his passing. Contrary to my belief, he always told me that my eyes sparkled like blue diamonds, and my hair, red as it was, sparkled like a setting sun. On my sixteenth birthday, my parents went out to pick up my cake, and never returned. Four long worrisome hours later, the police showed up at the door, their faces pale as pale could be, only to tell us that our parents died in a car accident. Since I already had a job and was two years ahead in school and about to graduate in a month, the courts granted me custody of my little sisters. Tragedy seemed to follow my family, until I decided to change everything.

Two years later, I decided to do exactly what my grandfather had requested, and reclaim the throne. However, I had two little sisters (seven and ten years old) to look after. Since I had little money and no family, I had to leave them with someone I trusted. At the time there was only one person that I trusted outside my family, Michael, my dearest friend since grade school.

After an hour conversation with an Austrian government representative, I had agreed to go to Austria for a blood sample to prove I was of the royal family. The plane ride was rather sickening; I felt as though my guts were being twisted from the inside. Finally, we landed in Austria. As I walked down the terminal, I heard screams and clicking of cameras ahead, so my mind pondered at the curiosity of what might lie ahead. The scent of excitement and anticipation crowded the airport. I walked out of the terminal and into the lobby, where I was blinded by flashes and bombarded with millions of questions. Reporters, cameras, and civilians all blocked my path to the exit. An older man in a black suit and sun glasses grabbed my arm and pulled me to the exit, and instantly thrusted me into a black limo with tinted windows. "Sorry about that dear." He spoke with a strong accent. "Who are you?" I questioned distrustingly. "I work for the Austrian government. This may sting a little." Before I could do anything about it he pricked my finger with a needle. "Ouch!" I pulled my hand back. "Hold still." He ordered. Grabbing my hand, so that a drop of my blood could land in a tube. He quickly put a lid on it and told the driver in German to take us to the lab.

Hours had passed, and I was sitting in this increasingly uncomfortable limo, with nobody but the driver who spoke only German. I knew some German, but not enough to keep him talking for hours. My patience was running thin by then. The man in the suit that refused to tell me his name, finally returned to the car. “Your blood tested is a positive match for a relative of the late grand duke.” “I told you he was my grandfather.” I replied. “We were all under the impression that he died in the war a long time ago, I apologize for the inconvenience.” We sat in silence for a few minutes. “Your majesty, would you like me to take you to your estate?” I thought it was rather amusing that he called me “your majesty,” when only hours ago he treated me like a liar. “That would be lovely.” I replied, trying to hide my sarcasm. “The large sum of money that remains in your grandfathers estate will be transferred to a bank account in you name immediately.” “How much money did my grandfather have?” I asked curiously. “Billions.” That was a complete shock to me; he had never mentioned anything about money. He only ever spoke of the castle, and the importance of being a Duke.


We arrived at the brick walls that surrounded what was now my estate. We drove around the side until we reached the gates. Huge grey gates, with the name Hartauer embedded in the metal, guarded the entrance to my ginormous, beautiful castle. The limo pulled through the gates, and drove down the long dirt driveway, with nothing but beautiful green grass on either side. We pulled up to the round-about at the entrance of the castle. Guards opened the big wooden doors for me. A rounding white staircase, a beautiful crystal chandelier, a giant white carpet on the ground, and everything I saw was more beautiful and expensive than anything I had ever seen before. I explored the castle, and wondered why my grandfather ever left.

The phones rang throughout the house; a maid picked it up and said hello in German. She seemed frightened; she spoke in German telling me that the phone was for me. I wondered who would ever call to look for me here. I didn’t tell anyone I was here, who could possibly be on the phone? I took the phone from the maid’s hand, “Hello?” I spoke suspiciously. “Elizabeth?” I instantly recognized Michael’s voice. “Michael! How are my sisters?” He sounded strange. “They’re fine- for now.” He answered very suspiciously. “What do you mean for now?” I asked, my heart pounding faster than the beat of a drum. “I’m going to text you an account number, wire a million dollars to it, or they will die.” My mind froze. I felt my heart being ripped out of my chest, as the betrayal began to sink in. “What have you done with my sisters?! I want to speak to them now! How could you do this to me Michael?!” By that time, I was already in tears. Michael, who had been a friend of mine for a long time, hung up the phone. I ran to the front door, which was at the other side of the castle, and down two flights of stairs. I reached my purse, and grabbed my phone. It had a text from a blocked number that read: “Account number: 1521387642112971. Wire a million dollars for the safe return of your family.” I was frantic. When my phone beeped again, it was a picture of my sisters tied up, in a basement somewhere. I knew I had to calm down in order to think; I stopped crying and reached for the phone.


I dialed 911 at first, but realized I would not be able to explain much in German. The old man in the suit spoke English! I ran to the library where he previously was, and to my relief, he was sitting in a chair reading a giant book. I was not sure what to call him, so I just went with suit. “Suit.” He turned his head to look at me. “Someone took my family. I need your help.” The man in the suit stood up and walked over to me. “Who took your family?” He asked, calmly. “Michael Radeke. He was a friend of mine, or at least I thought me was.” I panted. “How long have you known him?” He asked. “Eight years. He wants a million dollars! He gave me an account number.” I could not believe I had known him so long and he’d do this, for what, for money? “Wire the money to the account number he gave you, and I’ll make some calls to the American secret service. They’ll find them.”


I did as he instructed and immediately went to the computer which was on the second level in the study. I raced up the stairs, and ran to the study. The computer was already turned on; I went to the website for the bank account I was given with all the money I inherited. I typed in the account number and waited the ten minutes for the money to transfer. I stopped and thought for a moment. I realized the kidnappers had no reason to keep my family alive once they got their money so I stopped the transfer. I ran back down the stairs to the man in the suit. “Once I transfer the money they’ll have no reason to keep my family alive.” I told him frantically. “They have no reason to keep them alive if you don’t.” He answered in a calm mellow voice. “They’ll call if they don’t get their money soon, and when they do the secret service can track their location from here, right?” “They can, but you have to keep them on the phone for at least a minute. It’s risky.” The man in the suit replied. “I understand, but I believe this is my only chance of getting them back.”


Hours had gone by; I was waiting at the phone for what seemed like decades. I was in the library; the library full of German books. The phone rang. “Hello.” I instantly picked up the phone, while the man in the suit recorded time on his watch. “Where’s my money?!” A man whose voice I could not recognize answered. “Where’s my family?” I questioned “They’ll be dead unless you sent the money now!” He screeched. “I want to speak to them! If you want your money, I need to speak to them now.” I demanded. The man in the suit gave me the sign for ten seconds left until they could locate them. “Liz?” Rose’s shaking voice answered. “Yes, Rose, it’s me, I’m going to find you. I’m going to get you back. I promise.” I reassured her. “I’m scared Liz.” She answered. “Wire the money, or you’ll never see them again.” The man sounded angrier than before. “I’ll wire it, I’m wiring it now.” The man hung up the phone. “We got their location. Swat team is going in now.” The suit told me. I waited, the only thing I could do was wait. I felt helpless, until the man in the suit’s cell phone rang. “Mmhm, mhmm.” He said as he spoke to the other person on the phone. “They’ve got them! They’re alright.” Relief filled my mind and body. Suddenly a heard a shot, a sharp pain filled my abdomen as I fell to the ground. My white shirt turned red in seconds.


The author's comments:
Based partially on a true story.

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noellerose said...
on May. 29 2013 at 3:02 pm
noellerose, Santa Maria, California
0 articles 0 photos 1 comment
Fabulous Story!