An alliance that was doomed before it even began...
????
They call her princess, but she was never looking for a prince charming. Good thing he's anything but.
Completely irresponsible, troublesome, and a liability, there's nothing remotely noble ab...
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Make it stop.
Please.
Make my heart stop beating much faster than it is supposed to.
Take me out of this living nightmare.
Get me away from this room that does nothing but promote decay. It's in the air that's so thick it feels like freshness has never been let in. It's plastered on the walls that are lined with unsightly splatters of red and other mysterious stains that I don't want to know the origins of. And I'm...
I feel like I'm starting to decay too. My skin may still be warm and my pulse is still thumping, but there's this thing inside of me that has started to disintegrate. Hope.
It feels like hope has been crumpled up- in perfect condition to be shoved towards the bottom of the trashcan. Because what use is it anymore? With my frostbitten limbs, my aching heart, and the four walls around me that look nothing like home. All it speaks of is hopelessness.
A hopelessness that doesn't breed obedience. Because after freeing myself from the rope that had confined me when I had first awoken, I still continued to bang against the boarded-up window and shout for help. Even if the window refuses to give underneath my fists and no one responds to my desperate cries.
Not only has hope gone down the drain, but so has my sanity. It's all slowly rotting away in here. I'm decaying, just like this room seems to expect me too.
And I know, they expect me to. The red light in the corner of the room continues to blink up at me, as if whoever is watching is enjoying my crash-out over the past two days here. But I can't see who.
They're never here. Just reminding me of their presence through that camera in the room most of the time. But sometimes, their voice rings through the camera- either to talk or on even worse occasions...they sing. Haunting lullabies play out in different languages, but the most common one?
Italian.
"So what do you think?"
I jolt so hard that I nearly bonk her head with my own.
"Cara?"
I blink. Still started. Still confused. And still partly in that nightmare my mind had momentarily let itself wander to again. Something I had succeeded in pushing down and keeping away, but now was ever-present.
I had hoped to never again be able to relate to that feeling. To those events and the lead-up to them. But here they are now, refusing to let go.
Maybe it's acceptance of knowing how close I had gotten to being in a place like that again- or worse.
