literature

The Necklace: Chapter 2

Deviation Actions

sneezefeatherWarrior's avatar
Published:
627 Views

Literature Text

Again, this is rushed. WEIRD formatting last chapter, so just click "control" then "+" a few times and it will make the text easier to read. :blah:

As you might suspect, mild cussing in this chapter too. But again, not enough for the mature content sign. :P

So, here is chapter 2. AGAIN WITH THE FORMATTING, SORRY!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I awoke in a cottage. I smelled the sweet smell of pork roasting on an open fire. I was lying in a comfy bed. A comfy I had not known for years. Not since after my first year in the prison. After my first escape during the first year, it was all cement and celestial ban. The window was only opened to reveal cold, desperate moonlight. I turned onto my side. I could hear the pig sizzling on the fire and loved the smell of juicy bacon. There was also the smell of melted butter and fresh, sweet bread. I licked my lips and enjoyed the extremely warm yet fading sunshine filtering in from behind me. I must’ve been sitting in front of a window, right around sunset. I opened my eyes and looked around. I was really warm, wrapped up in blankets and a silky dress, it felt like. Pulling the comforters closer to me I saw shelves overflowing with green dyed bottles with corks in them, bookshelves loaded with old textbooks with yellowing pages, and desk after desk with crumpled scrolls, messy assortments of quills, and inkwells piled on top of each other. The sides of the cottage looked like a tree trunk. A very large tree trunk. And on one of the large, wooden, splintery tables was a purple turban with a big red diamond in the middle. My eyes grew wide and I bolted upright.

“Will she be all right?” Dallas’s worried voice came from some other room.

“Yes,” a woman replied with a faint African accent. I knew of the many accents of the universe, having studied languages before prison. Russian, Polish, English, American, Northern, Demonic, Dictatoral (as we called the accents of soldiers and royals living by the dictator’s castle), the accents of the peasants and the people in poverty, you name it, and I’ll label it. “She will be fine.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Dallas sighed in relief. “And you won’t tell her… what I told you?”

“Which one?”

“Neither of the two things.”

“Well,” the woman replied, very cocky. “I’d have to be mad to.”

I looked around the room even more. The scent of various herbs exploded in my nose. Looking at the door, I saw a label on it. Something in Gypsy.

Great.

“Let’s go check on her,” the woman said suddenly. There were footsteps, and then a tan woman entered the room with Dallas. I stood up, wobbling, but confident.

“Well, it seems that she is awake,” the woman noticed.

Dallas just stared at me. I stared back at him, lowering my eyebrows, and jerking my head towards the Gypsy woman. Dallas still just stared.

“Oh, my my,” the woman said, examining me. “It seems I picked the right dress, but I was wrong with the rest.”

The woman tsk-tsked, checking me over. Dallas was still standing there. The women took me to a separate room and didn’t let me see what she was doing. She told me to sit on a wooden, old stool while she pinched and poked at my hair. Luckily, she finally just put it up in a ponytail. But she used some weird potion to make the two strands hanging loose way curly. She made me put on some flat shoes that were a little pinchy. They were green with little bows. After forever, The Gypsy finally presented a mirror to me. I was surprised at my reflection.

My dress was a green silk, long and narrow. Tied into a bow in the back were the strings on the front. Some ancient Greek pattern was embedded with emeralds. The dress was strapless, and sparkled in the sunlight. I was given a type of scarf, or at least I thought. The silky, thin, green fabric was wrapped around my arms, with my hands in thumb-less gloves at the end. The Gypsy had painted my nails a dark purple. My usually curly dark auburn hair was put up into a high ponytail. More of a bun, really. The two loose strands were so curly they looked like springs. Earrings were placed into my ears. They were tiny purple emeralds in a little chain leading down to a heart-shaped purple gem. In my hair was a purple rose on the left side. I noticed that there were gems embedded in the scarf-thing, whatever it was. I hadn’t looked this beautiful since… I didn’t want to think about that right now. Not in this moment.

“So, what do you think?” the Gypsy asked.

“Where did you find all this, how did I get into this, why am I into this?” I gasped. “I mean, it’s lovely. I haven’t looked so pretty in forever.”

“My name is Sharlese,” the woman said. “Now let’s get some makeup on you.”

After about another long and slightly painful half-hour, I was ready. For what, I don’t know. But I was just ready.

I had high deep, royal purple eye shadow on, a really dark purple eye liner, and dark blush. Sharlese had also somehow managed to make my complexion darker. The lipstick she had put on was the same shade of royal purple, if not a bit glossier, as my eye shadow.

“Sharlese, I don’t know what to say!” I stuttered. “Thank you!”

“Now, off to your dinner date,” Sharlese said nonchalantly.

“Dinner date?” I repeated.

I was led into what was obviously the dining room. A table was set up with a feast of roast pig on a platter, grapes surrounding it in a circle, and two plates of bread and butter. Two candles were lit up in the center of the feast. They made the room smell like cinnamon and apple strudel. But most surprising was the gentlemen sitting at one end of the tower. I hardly recognized him at first. The young man was wearing a lovely tux. His dirty blonde hair was greased backwards and styled elegantly. His shoes were shinier than the moon’s reflection in Mirror Lake across Crystal Clear Valley! With a black tie he looked rather handsome. Without his cowboy hat, it did make Dallas look more like a gentleman, but he seemed rather annoyed.

“Well, if it isn’t the cowboy turned gentleman!” I laughed.

“Well, if it isn’t the convict turned prissy princess!”

“Well-played,” I shrugged.

I laughed and began to sit down before Sharlese cleared her throat. My smile faded.

“What?” I said. Sharlese stared at Dallas.

“Oh, for the love of pixie dust,” Dallas muttered. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Sharlese shook her head. Dallas huffed out a breath and pulled out my chair for me.

“Why thank you,” I gasped. “Such a gentleman!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dallas muttered as he pushed me in.

He sat himself down at the opposite end of the table.

“I’ll leave you two alone then,” Sharlese said.

After Sharlese had left the room and shut the big wooden doors, Dallas relaxed and loosened his tie. He took off the shoes and messed up his hair, and also put his cowboy hat back on. He stared at me, expecting something.

“What?” I finally said. None of us had touched the food.

“Aren’t you going to loosen up a bit too?”

“You know who my father was,” I said, smiling tightly back at him. “And who my mother wanted me to be. I’m used to this.”

Dallas just scoffed a little, smiling at me the whole time. Finally, we took a little bit of each of what was on the table. I was using my fork and knife to cut and delicately eat my pork. I used my fork to eat the grapes! After a while, I looked up at Dallas. He had sauce all over his face and hands, not to mention the fact that he was stuffing grapes into his mouth like nothing else mattered! I couldn’t help but giggle. I put a hand to my mouth though.

“What?” Dallas smirked. “They don’t teach us ‘proper educate’ when training.”

I just raised my eyebrows and smiled, stabbing my fork into more grapes. Soon, though, nearly all the food was gone. I may act like a lady, but that doesn’t mean I don’t eat like a full-grown man. Dallas still had sauce all over his face, although his hands were somewhat acceptable now.

He used a white napkin to try and clear off his face, but he just managed to spread the sauce everywhere. I laughed at him, clashing my fork down on my plate.

“Let me help you,” I said, still giggling.

I ran over to his side of the table and got down on my knees. A little immobile in this dress, but I could care less. I grabbed the napkin and started to clear off his face. Almost half an hour went by before Dallas was completely free of pig sauce. I laughed at him.

“Well, all clear now, cowgirl,” he said. “Thanks.”

“No problem!” I said. “That’s what friends do!”

His expression changed a little, but he still smiled at me. With that smile. I stared into his eyes and he stared back at me. A mix of emotions ran through me, first fear, then joy, then confusion, then heartbreak, then sadness, and then confusion again. But finally I was left with a warm, fuzzy feeling, although there was a pit at the bottom of my stomach. I saw those same emotions reflected in Dallas’s eyes. Mine started to water as I remembered when I left him. The guards pulling me away, Dallas not doing anything, me punching and kicking and scraping his skin off. I had left him with a glare of pure hatred. The man I had once trusted, the little boy I met at the market, he was gone. For good. At least, that was what I thought.

I took Dallas’s arms in my hands and felt them over. I found the courage to look down as I rolled up the sleeves carefully. There were deep scars still on his arms. I looked up at his face with my whole body shaking. Pushing his hair back, I saw scars and scratches from me. And one deep cut underneath his eye.

Slash! Sling!

“Whoa! Where’d she get a knife!”

“She was just at a dinner party. Probably saw this coming.”

Blood ran down the deep scar under my former-friend’s eye. He stared at me in disgust. He spat on the ground before leaving the scene. I jumped after him, barely escaping the clutches of the dark, tall soldiers.

“I TRUSTED YOU!” I screamed. “WHY DID YOU TURN ME IN?”

Dallas kept walking away. I pushed him to the ground and shook him.

“WHY? WHY? WHY?”

He just stared back at me, resentment in his watering eyes. Plus something cold. The kind of cold that resulted in hatred. In death. In punishment. The type of cold in his eyes.

After punching him, watching him bleed, I finally let the soldiers take me away. I didn’t care. Back then, there was no one left to care for me. For me to miss. My parents disowned me because of what I believed in. The only person I ever truly loved had betrayed me. My little sister had gone missing in the past year. I only saw a shadow of her once, while out hunting. And that could’ve just been a wood nymph. There was nothing, no one, not anything waiting for me outside that cold, dark room. It was only until months later that I realized that fate had hired me. I must finish what I started. Even if it meant starting all over, even if it meant leaving everything behind, even if it meant never staying in one place for the rest of my life I was fine with that. I only knew that it must be done. Whatever I felt for Dallas, whatever I thought he felt for me must be ignored. I buried it deep down inside me. I never thought of it. I never spoke it. During all my five years at prison, I never spoke one word, never uttered any sound. I stole parchment from the guards, and made quills from pieces of straw, and used half of my drinking water mixed with crushed berries for ink. For the final four years in the prison, I never spoke one single word. I glared at the guards with looks that killed them, if looks could kill. I never had any friends, never joined any gangs, all I did was plan my escape. My solitary was what kept me sane. I never thought of how rock-hard I had become. In the mess hall, I stared at the wall, drinking only the expired milk, stashing the berries in my pockets, showing no emotions. No fear. No sorrow. Just a plain, blank face. The only emotion was in my eyes. Cold, hard determination lit up like a fire. It was the only thing that kept me alive. To hell with my sanity. All I needed was my plan. The little piece of paper I had carried with me everywhere. Sure, maybe the guards confiscated it, maybe they examined it, maybe they kept it. But I didn’t care. Those sonofaguns could do what they wanted. By the time they figured it all out, I was long gone. Just leaving the little town below the castle.

“No wonder we didn’t see her at the mess hall,” they said. “No wonder we couldn’t hear her heavy breathing in the workout room, or her silent weeps at night. She’s gone.”

And they never found me. They searched for three years after my escape. Nothing. They just gave up. All that was left were posters.

There was only one time when I showed what I felt. Every night, I would sit it my make-shift home (as if I’d ever have a home) and sing the lullaby, making the little glass birdie fly around the room. It reminded me why I was running. What I was running to. What I was looking for. Who I was looking for.

I stared at Dallas, tears openly falling down the sides of my face.

“I was sixteen when I was arrested,” I spoke. “Six. Teen. I was twenty when I escaped. I was just barely twenty-three when they stopped looking. It’s been two years since then. I’ve been running for almost six years now. Not running away. Just running towards you.”

“What do you mean?” Dallas said, tilting his hat upwards.

“I knew that you would find me. I knew that you would join me. I finally figured out that song only after one week in jail. I knew I had a job. Do you know the song, Dallas?”

“What about it?” he muttered darkly.

“I’m that little girl, Dallas,” I said, my voice cracking. “You’re the soldier.”

“But how can we-”

“I don’t know!” I almost yelled. I took a deep breath, stood up, and walked towards the fireplace behind the dining table. “All I know is that we need to find the Necklace. Once he is defeated, then I will run away.”

“That’s what you’re doing now!” Dallas shouted. He slammed his hat on the table. All the laughter and happiness had left him. “Running, running away. Will you ever stop?”

“I CAN’T STOP!” I screamed at him. “ONCE I DEFEAT HIM, I WILL DISAPPEAR.”

“YOU CAN’T DISAPPEAR!” Dallas shouted back.

“AND WHY CAN’T I?”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

I slammed my fists against the frame of the fireplace. Dust flew up into the air. I ran towards Dallas, grabbing him by the shirt collar, and I pushed him up against the wall. Trying to control the rage welling up inside of me, I whispered to Dallas.

“Once the people realize what I’ve done, they will celebrate. But then, when they realize that I just committed murder, they will hate me. I will disappear. Leave my tracks in the dust. Leave no footprints, no clues, no possible way for you and your soldiers to find me. I will be fifteen people at once, all in different cities around this country. No matter HOW HARD you try, you will not find me. I will be just a memory. And I will run. Run away. Farther away, past the border, into another country, and past their border too. I will travel farther and farther until I am as far away from this country as possible.”

“You can’t leave!” Dallas gasped. I let go of him and turned my back, heading straight for the fireplace. I sat down on the ground.

“Watch me,” I said with that cold, dead expression that had been plastered on my face for the past few years.

I remembered how I used to get to sleep. In that cold, dark room on the cold, dark floor, closing my eyes just to see cold, dark, empty space. I would cry. I remembered.

“Remember,” I said out loud. I was not mad anymore. Maybe a little…

“What was that?” Dallas said, still trying to catch his breath.

“Wasn’t I supposed to remember something?” I said, standing up again.

“I hardly remember last night at all.”

“Sometimes forgetting is a good thing,” Dallas shrugged, adjusting his cowboy hat. “Now, why don’t I ring for dessert?”

I sat down at the other end of the table. I wore that cold expression again. Staring at the wall behind Dallas. I watched him struggle to style his hair and put his shoes back on and tighten his tie. It seemed like a million years. I wasn’t thinking. Hardly breathing. Just staring with that look.

The Necklace, the Necklace.

Something rang inside my head. I gasped.

“The Necklace! That’s what I was supposed to remember!”

“NO!” Dallas said. I backed off, hurt. Ironic that I was the one brutally torturing him yet I was tortured by just words. “No, I mean. You can’t remember.”

Sharlese entered the room. Her brilliant smile disappeared. I guess that, being a prophet, she could sense the tension in the room.

“What happened in here?” she said. “It was all smiles and laughs when I left, but now you two have started to drift! What’s wrong, child?”

I noticed that Sharlese had set the big platter with the rounded top down on the table. She was leaning against it, making the frail wood creak. She stared at me, eyebrows raised.

“I was sixteen when I was arrested,” I repeated. “For five years, I planned my escape. At twenty, I was gone hours before those sonofaguns realized it. At twenty-three, they stopped looking for me. For the past two years, I have been running. Trying to find this so-called ‘friend’ of mine.”

Sharlese glanced at Dallas, but was staring at me again soon enough.

“I sang you a song in a market, a long long time ago.”

I nodded.

“Where are the birds?”

Dallas immediately took his blue bird out of the pocket of his jacket. I waited a few aggravating moments before pulling out my bird from the top of my shirt.

“Happy now?” I fake-smiled, glaring at Dallas. His head was turned away from me.

“Now, sing the lullaby!” Sharlese prompted. “Well?”

I sighed and started to sing.

“Birdie flies around the world, as the stars go to sleep…” Dallas and I sang the lullaby in unison.

Sharlese took the cover off the platter. My mouthed dropped mid-song as I saw what was there. I was expecting a marvelous dessert, but what I did see was a thousand times better.

Two little nests, made of glass, sat on shiny tree branches connected to a little trunk. On the top of the tree was the most magnificent part! Being the top, there were lots and lots of leaves. In the nests were blue and red feathers, with sticks and dead grass hanging out. I noticed little specks of gold dust sparkling in the light. The biggest nest was at the top, with the most gold dust. But it was the bird that took my breath away.

Sharlese took out a figure covered with a cloth from underneath the table. She set the something down very carefully on the top nest, and removed the cloth inch-by-inch. What was revealed was marvelous.

A giant swan stood there, the beautiful porcelain wings carefully layered to represent the feathers. The delicate curve of the neck, that led up to the swan’s head. It’s ebony black beak was beautiful, and the mask around it’s eye socket was so delicately detailed. The feet were made of clear amber shaped like webbed feet. The underbelly of the beauty was indeed amazing. It consisted of jewels of all the colors of the rainbow, beautiful layering, and pure glossiness. It was just a shade darker than the white of the swan’s body. But the most dazzling part of the swan was its eye. A sparkling, fire-red ruby, shaped like a slanted diamond. Little green pearls surrounded it and between those were little ocean-blue diamonds. At the top was pure black and shiny quartz jewels, curved and rounded at the ends to form eyelashes.

“Oh my sweet stardust,” I gasped.

“That is something amazing,” Dallas commented, wide-eyed.

Then Sharlese just smiled and pulled out the finally piece to the display. It was a glass sun that fit right in behind the swan! It was glowing so brightly it looked like someone had taken rays of sunshine and solidified them! The sun was huge, and it looked like a beautiful sunrise when the beauty was placed behind the swan.

“Now, you two put your birds where they go,” Sharlese commanded.

I placed my bird carefully onto the upper nest with the red feathers. Dallas placed his on the only remaining nest. We stood back and gazed at the marvelous sight.

“Why are you showing us this?” I asked.

“Because the swan represents you two!” Sharlese explained. “When you combine those two little birds, you get something bigger and more fantastic than ever!”

“So,” I struggled to get the concept. “What you’re saying is we have to work together…”

“… or no defeating the Dictator,” Dallas finished for me.

Sharlese nodded, grabbed the statuette, and smiled as she left the room.

“I’m so sorry for what I did to you,” Dallas tried to say.

“Save it.”

“For what?”

“For when I actually care what you think.”

* * *

I gasped in the darkness of the night. Bed sheets and comforters were flung across the room. I was breathing very heavily and sweat covered my forehead. There was only one thing echoing in my mind: The Necklace… the Necklace…

I groaned. I had another headache. I’d been having the same dream for three nights now, because I always woke up like this. Not once could I remember the dream. I remembered being terrified, and I remembered the Necklace, but nothing else. Sometimes I woke up screaming Dallas’s name, but I usually woke up to “THE NECKLACE!”

I started to gather the blankets off of the floor. Once the bed was all nice and neat, I changed into a comfy little red cocktail dress. It was long and curved around at the end like a bell, plus it only had one sleeve. I little classy, but comfy otherwise. I walked down the creaky wooden staircase and into the living room. It still smelled like honey and Maplewood. I would never get that out of my system.

I slowly trudged into the kitchen and towards the icebox. Finding nothing there, I figured I would make some coffee.

While it was brewing, I looked through the cupboards and found some raspberry crumb cake with lemon frosting. I took half of the whole thing and put it on a plate. I also took a fork. I heard a screeching sound as the coffee was done brewing. So, I added some hazelnut creamer and went into the living room.

Sitting down on the comfy lime-green, round couch with the stubby wooden legs, I covered myself in the soft blankets. Moonlight shed in through the window. It reminded me of my cell from prison. Yet there were no metal bars on the window, no scratchy, dead hay on the ground, or pixie dust piled up in the corner, its magic slowly, painfully fading away. I shook my head, taking a few slow sips of the steaming coffee before plunging my fork into the delicious cake. The lemon frosting was sour and sweet at the same time, deliciously creamy, and amazingly soft. The cake was delicious, with the streaks of raspberry sauce and the moist, baked dough of the cake pushed up against the roof of my mouth. The taste still stuck in my mouth even after I had half-finished my coffee. I guess that I was waiting for the sun to rise. I took out the little bird from my pocket. It sparkled in the moonlight. The lullaby rang in my head. I was so intent on the little birdie… exploring how its wings flapped, wondering how Sharlese could get the glass to shine like that, if she even made it, just observing and wondering.

Suddenly, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I jumped and whipped around to see a smiling little cowboy.

“Hey,” he said. “How’s it going at…” -he checked his watch- “… about three thirty in the morning?”

“How’s it going with you?” I smiled back.

Dallas sat next to me. I noticed he wasn’t wearing a shirt at all. I just rolled my eyes. I was lucky that he didn’t have his hat on.

“Well, I thought I heard someone downstairs,” he smiled. “Turns out it was you, Miami.”

“Ha!” I laughed. “Of course it was me, who else would it be? Did you expect Sharlese to be pouring potions on puppies or something weird like that?”

“I know she’s capable,” Dallas smiled that brilliant smile again. We both laughed and I offered to get him some crumb cake and coffee.

“Sure,” he said. “If not breakfast at six, then three hours earlier would be just peachy keen.”

“I’m looking for a yes or no.”

“Yes, then.”

I smiled and pranced into the kitchen to get a plateful of crumb cake and one steaming hot coffee.

I walked back into the room with the cake on a glossy wooden plate.

“Would you like cream or sugar in your coffee?”

“Hazelnut cream is fine,” Dallas said. “And a few dollops of whipped cream.”

“Whatever,” I laughed.

I headed into the kitchen and soon delivered Dallas’s coffee. We stayed up all night talking and laughing, even singing every so often. Once it was around 6 in the morning, Dallas took my hand and led me outside.

“Where are we going?” I giggled.

“You’ll see,” was Dallas’s simple reply.

We walked through a light forest on one side of the cottage. We had been moving forever, and I soon grew tired. It felt like even running away didn’t take as long as this, and the cocktail dress didn’t help either. We finally got to a meadow, and Dallas just kept walking through it. I was glad to get out of the underbrush and all the brambles snagging at my skin and the bottom of my dress. I gazed at the clear skies up ahead. The sun was just rising, and the sky was the prettiest shade of blue I’d ever seen. Normally, I woke up before the sun rose and paid little attention to my eyes. I relied on hearing, scents, and clearing my tracks to survive, not dawdle on the shade of green the leaves were. But I had to admit, seeing that blue in the sky opened something inside of me. I had been alone for so long, but with this sunrise the world was telling me that everything would be better soon. No more jail. No more hiding. No more grieving. No more feeling sorry for myself. No more running.

“Dallas, where are we going?” I finally asked, stopping.

“Trust me,” he said. He literally stopped in his tracks after saying that.

“The last time I trusted you,” I said, aggravating Dallas even more. “I was sent to jail for five years. What did you expect me to say?”

“I don’t know, but hold on,” Dallas said, starting to move again through the tallish, yellow grass. “We’ll be there soon.”

“Whatever you say commander,” I followed him, saluting him with my hand. The nail polish was starting to wear off. Oh, well.

The undergrowth scratched at my legs and also snagged onto the dress. Luckily, my hair was up in a ponytail so it didn’t fly in my face from the breeze coming from behind me. Wild daisies, white flowers, and some strange purple version of a bluebell plant stood in our path. I realized we were following a deer herd. Suddenly, we came upon a clear spot with just light dirt and dust. There were hoof prints in the soil that confirmed my theory. But there was a little splintery bench facing East. Pretty snapdragons, bluebells, tulips, and roses surrounded the bench in a circle. Dallas led me to the bench.

“I saw this when I was carrying you to the cottage,” Dallas explained. “And I thought you might like it.”

“I don’t like it!” I gasped. “I love it!”

I eagerly sat down on the bench next to Dallas. One strand of hair fell loose from my ponytail and blew in the decreasing breeze. Whatever. I had not been wearing any shoes when we left. Dallas wasn’t wearing any shoes nor was he wearing a shirt. He did happen to have grabbed his cowboy hat on the way out. Lucky him.

I gasped again as I saw the sun rising. It looked just like the sun from the little swan statue that Sharlese showed Dallas and I a few days ago. The orange rays, the pink skies, the lightening blue… it was the most beautiful sunrise I had ever seen. One little black-and-white magpie flew in front of the sun, went around in a little circle, and flew straight into the forest. I gazed at it. Ever since seeing the bench, I had not stopped smiling.

“This is so pretty,” Dallas and I said at the same time. I turned my head sharply to look at him, and I found myself meeting his light blue eyes. I tilted his cowboy hat upwards with one hand, and Dallas pulled the strand of hair behind my ear. I stared at him, and we edged closer, and closer, and closer, until Dallas’s eyes were all I could see. We were so close… so close… and I found my muscles screaming to jerk backwards, because of what this man had done to me, what he meant to me, how he tore it all away by turning me in… and still, I found myself getting closer and closer to him still… closer and closer and closer…

And a series of images flew in my vision. Walking through a wooden door, running down a hallway, and a floating Gypsy skeleton. Odd, I thought.

“Miami, what’s wrong?” Dallas whispered.

“Nothing,” I whispered back. Still inching closer, Dallas stopped moving closer to me.

“Let me just ask you one question,” Dallas said. “Why did you leave me?”

And it all came rushing back. The rotting guards, the circle of fire, Dallas’s half-missing hand on my shoulder, and the words. Why did you leave me… I couldn’t help it. I backed away from Dallas, scooting away from him slowly.

“Well?” he said, more fierce.

“Don’t come near me,” I screamed. He tried to close in on me, scooting down the bench to try and get closer. “DON’T COME NEAR ME!”

“Why did you leave me?” he repeated over and over. I whimpered and brought my hands to my mouth, just quietly sobbing with fear as Dallas started to yell at me.

“I’m asking you a question,” he said, a cold look in his eyes, flickering like fireflies. “WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?”

“I don’t know!” I cried from behind my hands. Dallas stood above me and pulled my hands away from my mouth, forcing them painfully against the splinters in the wood on the seats of the bench.

“WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?”

“I…” was all I could choke out before breaking down into tears. Dallas just sighed and closed his eyes, one hand on his hip. “Don’t… Know…”

I couldn’t think right now. Not at all.

“Miami,” Dallas said, sitting next to me, a little bit gentler. “Do you know what my job was at the castle?”

“To go out and fight?” I guessed, wiping away my tears and putting my hands back over my mouth. More tears just ran down my face at Dallas’s next words.

“No,” he said, his voice cracking. “I was a torturer.”

I was openly sobbing at this point. I couldn’t even begin to… I didn’t know what to say… I just stood there crying. Openly crying in front of my former boyfriend, the Royal torturer. Huzzah.

Dallas forced my hands away from my mouth and put them on his shoulders. I couldn’t do anything but look down and cry. Dallas put his hands on my hips. It started to rain all of the sudden, just like a few days ago. The dress was getting rather heavy but luckily it was a tight fit. I was still crying. Crying and standing barefoot in the middle of a dirt patch in a rainstorm. I was still looking down, sobbing. I may be tough, but I was emotional with torturers. It was too tough to even think about.

Dallas lifted my head, and I found myself staring into his eyes again. They were round with sorrow and still the same clear blue as they always were. Dallas took my cheeks in his hands, closed his eyes, and pressed his lips against mine. I was surprised at first and still crying, but Dallas held on to me as I tried to tear away from him. I finally broke free and started to run away.

“MIAMI!” he called. “MIAMI I’M SORRY!”

I just kept crying and running, barefoot, on mud, into the forest filled with mud. Dallas chased after me. I could hear him splashing behind me, but he could never track me. I was too quick, too nimble, too experienced at running in the rain and leaving no trail behind that I had an advantage. Unfortunately for me, red sticks out like a needle in the middle of green and brown. I finally stopped in a small, open patch of grass in the middle of the forest. I wiped away my tears, having none left to cry. Dallas caught up to me.

“Miami, I’m so sorry I…” Dallas broke off with a sigh. “I didn’t mean to become a torturer. I didn’t mean to… do what I did back there… Miami? Miami? Can you hear me?”

I walked up to him, looking up with glassy eyes, took his cheeks in my hands, and kissed him full on. Dallas seemed surprised at first, but then he relaxed and gave in. We kissed for a long time, out in the forest, with me holding onto his cheeks and him holding onto my hips. I finally broke off the kiss. Dallas just stared at me, dumbfounded.

“You know,” he smiled. “You look amazing in that dress.”

“I know,” I smiled back. “But the hair could use a little work.”

And I ran again. But this time, Dallas didn’t follow me. And I didn’t care. All that mattered was me getting back to the cottage, taking a long, hot bath, and talking to Sharlese. Plus asking her to bake another one of those raspberry crumb cakes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hate how the text it all big at the end. But if I try to change it, something goes wrong with the website and everything is all weird. :blah:

SORRY ABOUT HOW RUSHED ALL MY STORIES ARE. I WILL TRY TO SLOW IT DOWN. A LOT.

so, this is it. :P

Characters:
Miami- a once-rich ex-con who escaped from prison and is running away from everything, from her life.
Dallas- a soldier working for The Dictator; ex-boyfriend of Miami, hoards secrest of the past.
Sharlese (The Gypsy)- a sort of advisor for Miami and Dallas; the one who first told of the prophecy.
William- more on William in chapters 4 and on
Miami's Parents- x
© 2013 - 2024 sneezefeatherWarrior
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In