Chapter 1: her feelings

Chapter one

The one thing that scares me is the human mind. It can love someone one minute, and hate them the next. It can hurt someone, scar someone, and traumatize them but unconsciously make them the victim. They can believe the villain and shame the hero. The human mind can urge you to kill someone who truly deserves it but have you crawl to the same person. It can make you a liar, the worst of the worst. But it can also love, It can love oh so graciously.

For the human mind can do anything.

 

- to the ones who call themselves my friends.

 

A father and a daughter.

One memory.

 

“What do you want? Sa rang.”

“I want a companion.”

“You have many?”

“No, I want one that doesn’t care about status, they could have none for all I care. I simply want someone who can talk to me without thinking about the benefits.”

“Sa rang, I don't think that your friends care about the benefits. Where did you hear that?”

“Their parents do. That's why it’s ok for us to play together.”

“Is that where you heard it sa rang? From the adults?”

The little girl shakes her head and points up.

“My friends told me about it.”

“Your..your friends?”

Her father asks in disbelief for a second, forgetting that children can create anything from their imagination. Maybe it was a surprise from his silent daughter who was only excited about a few things to comment on that. It didn’t make a difference to the father who loved his daughter abundantly. He smiled at her and let his hand rest on her head.

 

“What else did your friends say?”

He asked, amused at the child’s ambition to speak to him about this. His daughter rarely made a complaint or a request. Nor did she wonder why her father was gone all the time. It made him sad but made the times when they did talk all the more important.

 

“Mom is going to leave soon.”

 

“What?”

The little girl touches her father's hand and closes her eyes.

 

“But I'll have the little sister I've always wanted!”

 

She says her smile widening to her eyes.

The scene fades from view as she wakes up to reality.

Waking up was a painful experience. It was even more painful when the maids tended to me. My head was pounding as the maids guided me to the chair and rushed past me in a blur. Like different portraits moving faster than I could comprehend, stop motion. All a blur. What was today anyway? What was so important? What had happened last night? Had I had a dream? Oh, I can’t remember. 

 

“Which color, your majesty?”

 

A maid offered all I could do was try and hold my head up. And when I couldn't, I let the maids simply hold my head up for me. 

I could hear their thoughts so clearly by just feeling them around me. they were most likely somewhat accurate, only someone who could really read minds would ever know.

“What’s wrong with her?”

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“Is she ok?”

“She’s freaking me out..”

“How ridiculous”

“She can’t even keep her head up without our help.”

“I wonder what the elders think of her.”

 

Giggles and snickers. Laughs and whispers. Entertaining indeed for the people who talk. Embarrassing indeed for the people who they talk about.

 

I bit my lip, the skin I had just ripped off becoming tender. Doing my best to not let the blood show, I hastily swept my tongue over my bottom lip, tasting a salty liquid as I did. Blood

I moved my lips together. Watching as the blood mixed with my red lips. A mirror stood in front of me. Its figure, long and slim. Its frame, golden and bright. Its reflection… dull and boring. I stared back at myself. Hoping to erase my mirror's existence so that somehow I wouldn't exist as well. I sighed and let my eyes rest. Into a pitiful darkness that we call sleep. I see it as another way of waiting for death to come to overtake us. I opened my mouth slightly and let out a heavy gust of air. A yawn. I was tired and no one cared. Not the maids that tended to me. Not the guards that protected me. Not my father. Not my brother(s). Not my fiance…maybe he’s dead. I would assume so. Footsteps outside my room. Heavy ones and light ones. And? Footsteps that were rushing.

 

“Your majesty please, her highness is not ready!”

 

Now I have to open my eyes. Inhaling, cold air went through my nostrils, cool and pleasant. reassuring, and exhaling, I prepared myself for yelling, hitting, throwing, smashing, hair-pulling, and insults. The heavy footsteps were now stomping and the shoji was thrown open. I turn to face the people who have come to greet me. 

 

“Hah. so you're still here residing in your royal glory??!”

 

“Hello, father-in-law.”

 

I greet him

His face is red, he must’ve been humiliated by the elders again. I hang my head back and look up at the ceiling. His anger will be “cured” for the time being by me again. He grabs my hair in a bunch and yanks it. My face was in front of him now. I simply peered at the man full of anger. My hair fell out of its design. His anger must’ve been fueled by my gaze because he threw me to the ground.

 

“You..you are the reason my son is at war! If it weren’t for you-”

 

I glance up at him, my robes falling out of place. I didn’t know if he was right or wrong anymore. I’ve heard it so many times it’s become engraved in my mind. Am I? The reason his son is gone. Really I must be if he so strongly believes so. 

 

Before I can get to my feet again, a sharp impact is felt on the side of my face. He steps on the back of my head. His boot forcing my gaze down. My ear feels numb. I crane my neck to the side. In the doorway stood a man. A man who followed my father around. A man who was my father's, right-hand man. Who was my fiance’s best friend? Someone who was forced to stay here instead of fighting next to his best friend for his country. Because of me. I was the reason he stayed. Because my fiance requested that he’d stay and protect me, and watch over me. Now that man stands in the doorway. His face was stone cold. Almost as if he was goading me. He has always hated me since the beginning and now that he has to stay with me because I'm his best friend's priority, he despises me. His anger rooted deep from the bottom of his heart he could care less and watches me nearly get beaten to death by his best friend's father. Fucking hilarious. I chuckle under my breath. My throat makes a wispy type of croak. Which I guess was still identifiable as a laugh because father presses his foot down on my neck now.

 

“You bitch. You think you’re all that huh??”

 

He asks, his voice full of fury. I shut my mouth and turn towards the ground. I groan in pain as he buries his boot into my neck. I gasp and desperately gasp for air, my breathing being cut off. I whimper and try to speak but my voice isn't there. Reaching for the door I extend my arm toward the man who loves my fiance as much as I did. My eyesight is blurred and blotchy and I grit my teeth through the blinding pain. The man simply stares at me and then turns the other way his attention averted. Moreover, his stone-cold face hasn’t changed but still, it seems like he’s happy to look at something else other than me.

 

 No hope. Hah, I should’ve known even if this man was at his happiest and had everything he ever wanted. He wouldn’t spare me a dime. More Less a glance. My gaze still pointed at the man. I give up trying to breathe. And choke back groans of agony. I blink and my vision blurs even more. But I still see the man's expression while talking to a maid. His expression was no longer stoic and unreadable; it was now shocked, maybe surprised. No. I must be hallucinating. Blinking again I see the man rushing over to father. And yelling something. Something important because father let go of me completely. 

Gasping for air and being able to breathe again I let out an inhumane sound and laid my head on the ground, my robes and hair completely messed up. My nose was running. I slowly glanced down and gazed at my bruised arm. Rubbing my hand against my skin to wipe the mucus off I saw a dark red consistency instead. Looking up I saw the man and my father talking. They were excited huh? I wonder about what? My eyes couldn’t stay open and my pupils rolled back.

 

“Min-ho has sent a letter!”

 

END CHAPTER

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