Your Majesty | Teen Ink

Your Majesty

February 29, 2024
By Hifzaz09, Congers, New York
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Hifzaz09, Congers, New York
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Author's note:

I love reading and when I wrote this piece I got my inspiration from books that I was reading at the time! Books like the Shatter Me series, the Crave series, and the Inheritance Games. I love playing sports and love a good enemies-to-lovers trope! This piece is the start of my writing adventure, just a little taste into the other books after this. 

I don’t know what’s happening outside of the walls that are supposed to be protecting me. I don’t know what's become of Earth. And I certainly don’t know what is left on Earth. I’ve been in this dungeon for over 3 weeks. Which means sitting in the same spot, eating the same food, and starting at the same dent in the wall for over 3 weeks. It was a dent I'd manage to forge in these metal walls. It's been exactly 3 weeks and 4 days, and I know because of the lines etched into the metal walls. There are 4 metal walls surrounding me, and exactly 58 metal bolts lining the sides of each wall. To the far left of the room lay four blankets perfectly stacked up. To the far right of the room is a chair where I do most of my thinking. Which is where I currently sit. I am sitting in a chair staring at the dent in the wall and my tally that signifies the number of days I've been stuck in here. I haven't had a proper meal in 3 weeks and 4 days. I receive one meal each day which consists of a small leg of chicken and a quarter cup of water. Enough to keep me sustained but not enough to keep me functioning. 

My memory seems to be lost, as I am unable to recall any past memories. Once in a while, I will have dreams. I can’t tell if they were fake memories or real. I hate this. I hate this so much that I feel an unnatural wave of energy pulse through my veins, through my blood. And I need to punch something, now. But I don’t because suddenly all that energy dissipates just as quickly as it came. I hear an uncomfortable scratching sound coming from the slot in the door, I quickly realize that my food is here. I try to get out of the wooden chair but I am suddenly forced down by gravity. I feel my lungs closing up and try to focus on the dent, I try to focus on the blankets meant to be my bed. But I am overtaken by defeat. Blackness clouds the corners of my eyes, and little spots of color are dancing in my vision. I’m trying to fight this sensation, I'm trying so hard that defeat may be a better option than fighting. Before everything goes utterly still, I see a figure standing in front of me. The figure is blocking my tally marks. Then, everything goes eerily still and eventually turns black. 

 I dream of myself standing in front of a fire. The fire dances as it spreads into a building, and around a large strip of land. Sudden pain shoots through my heart, my family was in that building. I burned them. I killed them. I didn’t mean to kill them. I didn’t want to hurt them. The fire is getting hotter by the second, threatening to burn me alive. I started the fire. I was so pissed that I… Actually, I don't know how I set it on fire.  The understanding dawns on me so quickly that I stubble back into the fire. I'm being absorbed by the fire, and I’m just standing in the heat screaming. No one is going to help you, you don’t deserve it. I tell myself this over and over again until tears fall from my eyes. I stop screaming, I stop crying. I stop everything. Instead, I stare at the building where my family died. I set the fire. I set the fire. I set the fire. I set the fire. I set the fire. I set the fire. I set the fire, and it was an accident. For some reason I want revenge. I’m hungry for revenge, and I’m just as hungry for death. No one will understand I want to avenge the loss of my family. But how? Kill a few people and feel good for 2 seconds? Is it worth it? I lost so much in that fire. As I begin to regain consciousness and realize this was not a dream, this is a memory from 3 weeks ago. An unforgettable memory that I have forgotten. What's happening to me? I suddenly hear a voice, a deeper version of mine, in my head telling me to wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

 In response, I counter that I can't wake up. I won’t wake up, I'm tired, hungry, and dirty. Reality is too harsh. Defeat is easier, victory is harder. 

The deep voice responds by saying, wake up you idiot.  I want to respond but instead, I stay silent.  Who knows what tomorrow brings? It’s a mystery yet to be discovered.

I wake up to the ear-splitting sound of gunshots. I don’t react to any of the gunshots that are being fired because I've gotten used to it. It signifies that it’s morning. I silently laugh at the term morning. What does it mean? Why is it called morning? I’ve read that it represents a time in the day. But that’s all I remember. Again, that voice is back, you know what it means yet you choose to forget it. I’m so taken aback by the familiar voice that I gasp and try to grip onto something. But suddenly, I come to the conclusion that I’m lying on the floor. It seems I’ve fallen off the chair and placed myself on the cold stone floor. A smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth. It feels good to feel some physical pain. I remember that I blacked out and there was a strange silhouetted figure staring at me. I stop thinking about this and try to get myself off the floor. I’m cold and feel gross. I want to take a shower because I feel the grim clinging to my skin more than usual. But is it worth the hassle? Before I can come to a decision, my thoughts are disturbed as soldiers burst into my room. They say something under their breath and grab me by my elbow. They hold it so tight, I’m sure that I have bruises forming. But I can’t feel anything, as I feel pain everywhere. Agonizing pain, starting from the sole of my feet up to my head. The most excruciating pain is active in my head. They haul me down a corridor, and up 52 steps. I want to scream, but I can’t. I forgot how to scream. Which also results in the sudden loss of my words. They place me in a room where there is a bench that is so white it’s blinding. In fact, this whole room is blinding. Too much light streams into the room. I don’t exactly know the name of the clear material allowing light to pass through it, thus it is burning my eyes. The walls are different in this room, it seems to be white and lined with weird contraptions. I try to look around the room some more, but spot a girl around my height in the corner. She is wearing a tattered T-shirt with pants and sneakers. What an odd outfit. I try to look at her face without being blinded by the light and see that her face is just as messed up as her outfit. She has piercing blue eyes, and scars covering the majority of her face. Her hair is the color of blood, shoulder length, and is very frizzy. She has high cheekbones, and a nose so pointy it reminds me of a needle. I stop examining the girl as she suddenly whispers something under her breath that is very hard to decipher. “What did you say?” I gasp realizing that these were the first words that I’d spoken in over 3 weeks. 

Before I can marvel at that fact, she calmly says, “I was just saying you have blood dripping from your head. I was wondering if I could clean it up before I inject you with the serum.” At this point in time, I am gaping like an idiot. I lift my hand to touch the rapid flow of blood coming from my head and realize there is a lot of it. What serum? 

I don’t realize that I’m staring at the girl until I feel something break inside of me. My words drip with emotion varying from confusion to anger. I retort saying, “Why am I here? I am not to be used as a toy. What is this place? Where am I? Who are you?-,” Before I can say anything else I see a flash of an emotion that looks like irritation, tinted in the depth of her piercing blue eyes. 

“Do you know who you are?” She pauses slightly as if considering her words very carefully. Then finally states, “I am Emily, by the way.” I’m so shocked by the first question that I almost ignore Emily's name. I feel a wave of nausea hit me in the chest like a tsunami. Then it comes to me. Who am I? What’s my name? 

I embarrassingly admit, “ I don’t know who I am.” Another wave of nausea hits me as I try to walk toward the door. But again, I fail as metal bars cover its surface. Why the hell is everything metal? 

Emily sighs and says, “See, that’s where you're wrong. You know who you are, but you just choose to forget yourself.” She fidgets with her shoulder-length hair and continues, “Don’t you get it? You’re special, and you seem to be forgetting your identity, and you also seem to be forgetting that you put yourself in this situation.” 

The voice is back, but this time louder than usual, and you choose to forget yourself. You forget everything you don’t want to remember. The voice seems to be my subconscious trying to communicate with me. This time the voice says, you know who you are. Don’t forget yourself. 

I already forgot myself.

Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Think. 

I look up at this girl who has a very pointy object in her hand. She seems to be walking in my direction. I think I should fight her, but it is too late as I feel the light flicker, walls cave in, and my legs seem to go numb. Again, I am consumed by everlasting darkness. In this darkness I feel empty, I feel overwhelmed, but I also seem to be in a state of peace. And then I remember everything. Everything. I know who I am. It all comes back to me so quickly that I can’t process it. I’m exhausted and will deal with Emily as well as my messed up life when I wake up. But right now? I want to be consumed by darkness. In fact, I welcome it.

his time when I awake, I don’t hear or see anything, as a matter of fact, I'm senseless. I keep my eyes closed for another second and try to process what happened. I was injected with the serum, which restored my memories. I know who I am, and I know what I am capable of doing. I hear the sound of a door closing which startles me awake, and I see a very familiar face. Emily. Emily comments, “You’ve been in a coma for 3 days.” She takes a slight break and mutters something under her breath. 

I gasp loudly remembering everything. I breathe out saying, “I am Diana Artemesia.” That’s it, that’s all I say until I get flashes of other memories. I stabbed a man with my mind, I drowned several people, and I killed my family. So many other memories come rushing back to me that I nearly fall off the white bench. This is too much, too painful, too overwhelming. I killed that little girl. Too many bad memories which I need to forget. I try to forget but fail, as something is blocking me from doing so. The serum. A piercing scream escapes my mouth as more memories come back to me. I try to reach for my head hoping to keep out the bad memories. But my wrists are in shackles preventing me from moving. A stab of bad memories hits me again. This triggers a scream so loud that lights start to flicker, glass beakers fall off of the counter, the spaces with light shatter, and the ground shakes. When I stop screaming, I am left weakened and exhausted. Silent tears stream down my face and I fix my gaze upward toward Emily, forcing out one word. “Why?” Again, I choke out, “Why?” This time I feel the energy so powerful, so heated that I scream the last word, “WHY?” 

She just stares at me, her jaw tightness as she responds, “You deserved it.” And just like that, she walks out the door. Leaving me to ponder the whole shitshow that I just pulled off. No, I don’t deserve this infinite pain. I forgot so that I wouldn’t have to deal with the pain. I recognize what I did and I feel guilty, shouldn’t that be enough? My family forced this upon me, they forced me to kill. My family forced me to kill and I enjoyed it because every time I took life away, I would feel a renewed burst of energy. Do I feel guilty about my past actions? That depends. At this moment in time, everything is so confusing and so mixed that I feel uncertain about everything. But one thing is clear, I am Diana Artemisia, my parents were a billionaire, I have a messed up life, I killed my only sister, and I killed my parents. I need to get out of here, I need to kill to get my energy back. I need to have my life back and I need to punish everyone in this compound for treating me like this. I am being used as an experiment, and I need to escape this shithole. I try to look around to find a tool to help take off my shackles, but it’s hopeless. 

Look to your right. I am so shocked to hear another voice that I feel my mouth drop open. This isn’t my voice, so that means this isn’t my subconscious. It sounds like the voice of a male. Deep and so rich that it’s hard to ignore. But I follow the instructions given and I see a figure leaning against the only wall that is dark. I blink several times to make sure that I am not hallucinating and confirm that I'm not. The boy steps into view, and I gawk at how handsome he is. But I am instantly repulsed by him. He has light brown hair, a sharp jawline, and high cheekbones, and his eyes are the color of milk chocolate. He looks so familiar. His face is so symmetrical it’s unbelievable to think he is human. This is disgusting. Utterly disgusting. And I tell myself that he should be looked at as an enemy considering he looks so familiar. He tilts his head so slightly that I see his muscles tense. He is wearing a suit, to be specific, an Armani suit. He carries himself in an elegant way which makes him look confident and dangerous. He walks toward me and whispers in my ear, “Good morning.” Pauses slightly and adds, “Beautiful.”

I feel my insides cringe as I ask, “Who are you?  And don’t you dare call me beautiful, or else I will melt each part of your body so slowly you will beg for my mercy,” I snap back. He chuckles in response. He chuckled. How the hell does he have the audacity to chuckle at that statement? Maybe I should melt each part of his body slowly, or maybe I should tear each part of his body o-. 

I am disturbed as I hear him in my head saying, you don’t want to kill me. It comes off as a warning but I take it as a challenge. 

“And why shouldn’t I?” I respond out loud. 

“Because I’m going to get you out of this compound, ” his words drip with a heavy British accent. 

“And where are you going to take me? I am not going anywhere with you,” I remark. I want to get out of here, but where is he going to take me? Why should I trust him?

You should trust me because I just unlocked your shackles for you, and I’m going to give you the option of coming with me or staying in this arse place. He does have a point, but I don’t trust him easily considering that I work alone. And I especially don’t trust him as it seems he can read my thoughts. “How can you hear and respond to my thoughts? I thought that was my subconscious, but I guess it was your stupid voice, maybe I should cut out your voice box.” 

He looks offended as he says, “Actually I value my not-so-stupid voice, and I can’t read your thoughts,  I can read people’s faces. I can communicate with you because I put a chip in your head, don’t you remember?” I am so confused and try to think back to when a new voice appeared in my head.  I realize that it only started recently which means that it was his voice. But my subconscious has always been able to communicate with me. I feel a sudden relief flood over me because I officially know that he can’t read my mind. And I can finally admit that I am scared. I have only been scared once in my life, and that time was so irrelevant that I practically forgot about it. But the fear is quickly erased and replaced with curiosity. 

“I don’t remember you, or a chip, although you look oddly familiar,” I pause slightly preparing to ask a long string of questions. “How did you get in here? What’s your name? Who do you wor-,” I gasp, covering my mouth surprised by the number of questions falling out of my mouth. 

“Sweetheart, I own this compound,” he says calmly. 

“Stop it. Stop calling me these stupid names, please call me Diana. And I swear to god if you call me another one of your freak names I will, and I repeat, I will rip every body part off, maybe not now, but I will happily do it later.” I pause for a breath then continue to say, “If you own this compound then why take me elsewhere?”  

“This compound is going to shit, and you deserve to be somewhere bet-,” I cut him off so quickly that he looks irritated. 

I choke out, “Why do you care about me?” I feel so small that I think disappearing would be the best option in this situation.  

He questions, “Diana, do you remember me?” 

I consider his question, slightly marveling at the way he said my name. I try to reach into the deepest parts of my brain, sorting and exploring different memories. Then I finally put my words together and gasp out, “Valentino Walker, I’ll be damned.” I am so stunned that I feel myself melt into the seat. Standing in front of me is my former enemy, lover, and partner in crime. “Val, you complete a-hole!” 

Valentino seems so calm in this situation I question if he's still listening to me. He yells, “You complete a-hole! You're the one who tried to kill me!” 

I roll my eyes and say, “I had to kill you.” 

He retorts saying, “You wanted to kill me.”

I need to get out of here and I plan on killing him as soon as I am done with him. I try to keep a poker face to prevent him from reading me, and I succeed. I vocalize my thoughts by saying, “So are you going to get me out of here?” 

He responds by saying, “Are you going to kill me?” 

“No,” I lie. 

He raises his eyebrow at me and then swiftly takes out a gun from inside his coat, before I have time to react he shoots me in my thigh and I realize that it’s just a tranquilizer. That dude knows me too well. Stupid butthole, he’s going to pay for that.  Here I am again, consumed by darkness. I wonder what he’s going to do with me, I know what I’m going to do to him. I also know he’s not going to kill me, that would be stupid. But I am going to kill him, just as I intended to 3 years ago. When I want things to be done, they are achieved almost instantly. And I want to put an end to Valentino Walker.

I find myself in another room, staring at the clear material in the wall called windows. I recently just reclaimed that memory, and it makes me happy, yet sad that I am getting my memories back. I am lying on top of a very comfortable bed. I seem to be the only one in this room and I feel relieved to finally have time by myself, without cameras tracking my every move. I usually can sense if I’m being watched, and right now, no one is watching me. I try to piece together all the recent events that happened. I also realize that I have a chip in my head allowing me to communicate with Val. I remember the first day I arrived at the solitary confinement compound, I was shot in the head, not with a bullet, nor a tranquilizer. They must’ve hit me with the chip. I don’t need a third voice narrating my choices, especially not Val’s, which means I need to get it out of my head. I need to kill Val even though he might be a good asset, we have too much history. History that I chose to leave behind in the fire that killed my parents. He can use all of the information about me and use it against me, this makes me vulnerable and I hate being vulnerable. I try to get out of bed and realize that I have a horrible headache, I look around and I am shocked to see the luxury of this room. This reminds me of my old room. I feel a knot in my stomach working its way up to my throat. I don’t want to be reminded of my old life, and I know Val did this on purpose. Even more of a reason to kill him. I walk over to a set of detailed white doors and open them. I notice that it leads to a bathroom with white marble tops, white cabinets, and a small waterfall running by the shower. A big bath that could fit 10 people. And a shower so long you could fit 20. Right next to the bathtub is a built-in aquarium. Shoot, exactly like my old bathroom. I need to kill Val. I walk out of the bathroom clawing at my neck hoping to receive air. I can’t look at the closet, petite kitchen, or living room. If I look at any of the rooms I’m afraid I will self-combust. This is oddly similar to my old room, except I claimed the whole top floor of the castle. I snap back to reality almost instantly as I feel extremely gross and in a dire need of showering. I walk back into the bathroom and see three guns by the bathtub. I close my eyes for a second and I am hurt, feeling a stabbing pain in my heart. I killed my sister with that exact set of guns. 

I see my sister standing in front of me, she looks so real. I know shes not, but looking at this hallucination makes me queasy. I quickly understood that this was a memory from 4 years ago, a memory that haunts me to this day. This memory is the exact moment that I killed my sister. “Get away from me Astoria!” I yell. 

“Tell me what's wrong and I can help you,” she responds calmly. 

I start to pace around my room and say, “YOU CAN’T HELP ME TORY, GET OUT BEFORE I HURT YOU.” 

She looks like I slapped her, she stumbles back and whispers, “Hurt me? What the heck happened to you in that compound? I told Mom and Dad not to send you because I knew it would mess you up.” She continues to ramble on about how messed up I am, so I stop listening. She's lying. I mindlessly walk over to my desk gripping the edge of the desk and trying to inhale. I inhale just enough to calm my nerves. I look up at my sister and feel this new burst of energy. I use it to my advantage and punch her in the face, but she deflects it. I kick her from behind to loosen her balance. She is now on the floor rolling and avoiding every move that I execute. As I punch her I see the horror written all over her face. I manage to punch her in the nose and see a waterfall of blood exploding from her nose. She looks horrible with a bruised eye and bloody nose. Me on the other hand? I didn’t get a scratch. 

“You bloody liar. You, Mom, and Dad put me in that prison to torture me! You guys created who I am today, if only you voiced your opinion things could’ve been different. ” I pause considering my words, “Why lie, when you and I well know, that you were the one who volunteered to kill me? Tory, you wanted to kill me.” 

She gets off the floor and leans on one of the columns in my room. She looks broken as she says the next words, “I wanted to kill you because you got Val-.”

I snap back saying, “So this is over Valentino? Over a boy? This is ridiculous. I don’t even like him, and I never will, I'm using him. I am going to kill hi-”

She grinds her teeth and responds, “You monster. Playing with his heart?” She catches her breath before yelling, “YOU HAVE EVERYTHING D! I WANT EVERYTHING FROM YOU. I WANT YOUR POWERS, I WANT EVERYTHING YOU OWN, AND I WANT TO KILL YOU FOR TAKING MY FAME.” She collapses leaning against the column. She rests her head in her hands, looking so vulnerable. She is shaking now, it seems as if she's trying to make a decision.  If anything she deserves to die, she’s a jealous person who has done so much good I feel disgusted. I feel nauseated. I don’t know what it was like to have a younger sister or even a normal life. I was born to be independent, taught to fear nothing, taught to lead, taught to turn off emotions, as well as hide them.  I never had a normal life, and it all started at the age of 4. Ever since I was 4, my parents put me in these compounds made to torture people. Maybe I should stab her, just to repay the favor. I smirk at the thought. She tilts her head and says, “I’m going to kill you.” Then she takes out a gun. All of a sudden I see the color red and bullets. They are flying past my head, abdomen, and arms. I dive down behind my bed hoping for some coverage, and I reach for my gun in my boots to regain some sort of advantage. I realized she shot my abdomen, leaving a burning pain in its wake. I always carry a gun in my boots because I learned to never trust anyone. She calls out, “You’re a coward, a messed up girl who deserves to die, this would be a lot quicker if-.” Then I spring up, pull the trigger back, aim, then shoot. It lands in her chest, and she crumbles down. Gagging and choking on her own blood, she chokes out her last words. “Go,” Another choked cough she mumbles, “To hell.” 

 I’m brought back to the present with a sudden gasp. I fall against the door to the bathroom, my body twitching and afraid to open my eyes. I weep into my hands hoping to erase the world. I snap out of it, wasting no time as I remember I wanted to take a shower. I’ve been waiting for one week. I shut the bathroom door behind me and stare at myself in my mirror. I look at my reflection noticing that I have dirt all over my face but I still manage to look presentable. I stare at my glassy hazel eyes admiring the combination of light brown and green mixing like a battle between night and day. I look at my long light brown straight hair, streaked with red and fading. My abs seem to be harder, and the angles in my body seem to be defined. 

After I get out of the shower I feel clean and fresh. I can see things more clearly and everything seems to be defined. My senses are on high alert as I am waiting for Val to walk in. When I was in the shower I came up with a simple plan. Get as much information out of him then kill him. Simple, right? I try to explore the room some more, ignoring my emotions so I don’t react to any of the rooms. I found a bunch of clothes in the closet and realized that this room was prepped ahead of time. I’m wearing a T-shirt that says, “Hell is empty, all the devils are here”- Shakespeare. I like it, it matches my personality. My hair is in two braids, defining my jaw and cheekbones. I look around some more, noticing that the guns are still there. I grab one of them and realize that only one out of three guns is loaded. This might be a setup, but it’s all I have. And I need to work with what I have. I look around the room and find a stack of magazines in the living room. They all are labeled with the most recent year, and they all have a common theme. Adonia was going to war with the rest of the world. I just never really paid attention to the news, but now I see that it is crucial I find out about this. We don’t have any form of ruling (none of which I remember at the moment), which is probably why we are at war. Stupid Adonions. Then I hear a sound come from my door. My subconscious is back saying, Doorbell. I'm shocked because the voice is back. And because I have a doorbell in my room. I cautiously walk toward the door, holding the gun in one hand, I reach out for the door. 

I open the door and see Val’s tall and muscular frame. His jaw is tight as he whispers, “Good afternoon, darling.” I note that he called me darling which gives me even more of a reason to kill him. Instead of responding, I nod. Then he does something so unexpected I nearly lose balance. He lifts both my hands, pinning them to the wall. I can feel his hot breath against my face as he says, “Where’d you get the gun from?” He smells like firewood, and I am so attracted to it that I almost forget myself. Focus, Focus, FOCUS. This time he lets go of the hand without the gun, then moves his free hand down to my hip, pressing my right hip into the wall. I feel a familiar heat rising to my cheeks. This leaves my other hand dangling, so I decided to play his game. I slowly slide my hand under his T-shirt and grip his back. He moves closer to me, his lean masculine body pressing against my strong but fragile body. This pisses me off as I don’t have my personal space, but continue to play this absurd game. “Answer the bloody question darling, where’d you get the gun from?”

I responded fiercely saying, “How about you step back before I break every bone in your body?” I look at him refusing to break eye contact. Then I answer the initial question stating, “In the bathroom, there were a ton of them in there. I thought you put them in that spot but it must’ve been one of your soldiers.” 

“My soldiers do not carry that gun and I didn’t put them there,” He says calmly. He loosens his grip on my hip and I take this time to pin him to the wall. My right hand was on his hard abs and the other one was on his waist.  

“Tell me, Val, what do you want from me?” I aggressively whisper.  

“Darling, I wanted to save you-” 

Bullcrap, I never did anything for you. Why would you want to do anything for me?  So tell me, are you here to ask about my sister?” I tilt my head slightly, never losing my grip on his waist. 

“Did you know that there is a war going on? Did you know that it all was caused by your sister's death? The world is at war because of your sister.” He states this so fast that I almost lose my grip on his waist, but don’t. 

“She was never my sister, and she wanted chaos. She kept telling me about her dream to break the planet, looks like she had many allies before she died.” I finally let him go, as it was insanely hard to focus with his piercing eyes staring at me. 

“Look, I don’t know how she died. But I know that she has people standing up for her death all over the world.” He is still staring at me but seems to be distracted by something. 

“What are you thinking?” I question.

“What happened to your sister?” He looks hurt like it’s a touchy subject for him. “She was found in your room, and you weren't there.” He takes a sharp intake of air and then says, “What happened D?” 

“You want to know what happened?” I say angrily. “I killed her, and I will never be ashamed of admitting it.” 

He looks at me with a blank face, his jaw goes slack. He lifts his hand to touch his hair then drops it. His whole body goes so still you can see the rise and fall of his shoulders. “You killed her,” he says astonished. 

“I’m pretty sure I said that,” I say ignorantly. He pivots on one foot and exits my room. I’m disappointed I didn’t kill Valentino, but something is bothering me… Why does he care about my sister?

I wake up the next morning feeling more refreshed than I have felt in 3 weeks. I do what I normally would do on a sunny morning. The sun is shining through the window lighting up my whole room and making me feel light on my feet. I hear my doorbell go off signaling that someone is at my door. Valentino. I go to answer the door and to my surprise, I see one of his soldiers. “Ma'am your presence is needed downstairs,” the soldier said with such authority that I was almost conned to follow him. 

“Where exactly am I needed?” 

“In the foyer, Ma’am.” He responded with a robotic voice, “Please follow me.” 

I don’t respond, and instead, try to reach for the gun in my boot. I touch the cold metal handle and am reassured of a new kind of safety. We reach the foyer after two elevator rides and roughly a one-mile walk. The first thing I notice about this elegant foyer is the extravagant glass chandeliers, the glass is arranged in a chain-like formation adding to its grace. I also notice that Valentino is in the corner observing me like an outlandish creature. “What are you looking at,” I snapped with disgust. 

“You,” he responded without hesitation. That one word had my insides rolling around. I stumbled back a little, at this horrid response. 

“You detest me,” I comment with disgust. It’s true, he disgusts me. For god sake, he liked my sister. At the time I was jealous, but now? Now, I feel absolutely emotionless and am questioning why I ever accepted my feelings for him. Right now, I despise him. In fact, I should dispose of him instantly, but he has valuable information that can help me escape this hellscape. 

“Take a seat, love.” 

“What happens if I don’t?” I challenge. 

“Then I won’t tell you what you will find important, simple?” He responds with a delicate voice. I take a seat not wanting to waste my breath on the little bastard. He suddenly blurts out, “You’re supposed to be the queen of the North.” First of all, it is unlikely that Val would ever blurt anything out. Secondly, what? I am supposed to be queen? What is that supposed to mean? I suddenly hear Val in my head saying, “Please say something, the silence is too loud.” 

“What am I supposed to say?” I say angrily. I lean back in the chair hoping not to fall out of it as I continue, “There's a fricken war happening, and you’re telling me that I should be controlling this chaos? Utterly ridiculous.” I take a sharp breath before claiming, “Val, is that all the information you have? Are you telling me that these are my soldiers?” I try to search his eyes looking for emotion, but he looks so pale I wonder if he's still breathing. Coward. 

He straightens as he says, “Technically yes, these are your soldiers.”  That’s enough confirmation for me to pull out my gun. 

I instantly take it out and ask, “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now?” 

He inhales deeply and whispers, “I want to rule beside you, I want to be your king and I want to tell our people that ‘Diana Artemisia is your queen; She is fearless, independent, hardworking, and unlike me, merciful.’” I loosen my grip on my gun, considering his words very carefully. “Damn it, Diana, I love you!” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. 

“Don’t do this,” I say breathlessly. “Don’t you tell me how much you love me, because love is complicated, and I will never love. I don’t love you, and I never will.” He looks like I slapped him, he looks so pained that for a second I am tempted to lift my cold barrier and give him a hug. I scream, “YOU RUINED MY SISTER VAL!” I stuff the gun in my boots and suddenly have the urge to kill him with my bare hands. I walk up to him and whisper, “You’re sick to have ever loved me.” Suddenly my hands are on his throat. I think of setting fire to his legs, and suddenly they are on fire. I feel his body still, all his energy transferring into me. 

He chokes out his final words saying, “You deserve to be loved D.” Then I simply set his whole body on fire. Good let him burn. Let him feel the wrath of the flame of which killed my parents. I feel an odd heat run through my body, I savor this warmth and energy. But then I feel a coldness rush over me which puts out the heated fire. What did I do? I then hear alarms blaring and sirens set off. I hear a loud marching coming outside of the foyer. The double doors are knocked down by the soldiers. They are all pointing their guns at me, and I feel oddly in power. 

My eyes feel like fire as I say, “Put the weapons down gentlemen, this is no way to be treating your queen.” They look as confused as I felt just moments before when Valentino told me. “Yes, I am your queen, and I will not repeat myself. Put. The. Weapons. Down.” They look so frightened that I am sure one out of 12 of them pissed their pants. Then I do the unthinkable and snatch the weapons out of their hands without making physical contact with them. I just thought about taking the guns out and then the weapons left their hands almost instantly. Get hold of your powers. They get down on both knees and stay there, helplessly staring at me. 

One of the soldiers with dark brown eyes asks, “How do we know that you are the queen?” I take a second to formulate my response because I don’t know. Until this moment I didn’t think we had any form of ruling. Looks like I have a lot of research to conduct. I am not even completely sure I am their queen, I am just bluffing for the sake of bluffing. 

“Didn’t General Walker tell you? If you don’t believe me, look in the record books,” I confidently respond. I am sure they have record books somewhere. “Or you could simply call your second in command because I killed your general.” I silently laugh, enjoying the words that come out of my mouth.  I still hear the alarms blaring which are starting to irritate me. “Would one of you gentlemen please turn off the obscure blaring?”

“Yes,” He hesitates before saying, “Your Majesty.” He gets up and calmly walks out the doors. 

“And don’t bring one of your other friends because they will end up like your General,” I yell into the distance. I look back down at the helpless soldiers and consider telling them to get off of their knees, but I don’t because I feel in power. I never really knew that we had a queen or king. There are still holes in my memory and this is one of them. I think about the many possibilities of how I became queen but I am disturbed by the return of the soldier. I look him up and down and just behind him spot another soldier. He seems as though he is highly ranked and I realize that he must be second in command. He is an old man but seems to be very fit. 

“It is confirmed that you are our queen, Mr. Walker told us before…” 

I cut him off by ignorantly saying, “Blah, Blah, I killed him. Catch up with the trends!” Thank god these soldiers didn’t catch onto my bluffing, because right now- right now I am scared out of my mind and I don’t know what to do or where to start. But I guess that is the experience of being queen. I guess it’s my time to prevent war in the North as I am now the queen. The Queen of the North. 

“You should not talk to me like th-” 

“I can talk to you however I want to, General.” I pause before saying, “After all, I am your queen.” He slightly straightens before saluting. Then the other soldiers rise and follow suit. Oh, how I missed being in power. I am going to have too much fun. I feel another smirk playing by my lips, but hide it. “When do I start?”



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