[Mellisond] Short Stories

Suna No Oshiro [꿈 Pt. 3]

{Song -  Suna No Oshiro by Kanon Wakeshima}

     I swing my arm forward, letting the small clock hurl out of my hand. It explodes against the window, but leaves the glass intact. My composure begins to crack, but I quickly straighten my face before a single tear could shed.

     Every bit of this place suffocates me, from the sapphire walls to the bed that I dare not go near. My mind races for a way out, but gets snagged on a daunting image.

     That woman's eyes- her red eyes are still imprinted on my sight, piercing me like daggers. And her voice still rings in my ears like an echo that won't cease.

     "Alice. . ."

     A sliding creak startles me, and I turn to see Prince closing the door behind him with his lips arched. My eyes shift towards the bathroom while a picture of myself running and slamming the door shut behind me plays in my head, but my feet won't budge.

     Prince's eyes drift down, falling onto the spot where the time pieces lay, and his face expands. "Christ, what did you do?" he yells, clenching his fists.

     I habitually flinch, but Prince shuts his eyes as his chest heaves heavily. "I'm not. . .I'm not upset," he says, relaxing his hands. He opens his eyes and paints on a smile. "Just don't damage my things; it's all very valuable."

     Prince walks toward me and with every step I subtly slide back thinking he could blow up at any second. "I wish to apologize for my earlier behavior," he says. "I didn't mean to get upset the way I did. I hope you know the last thing I'd want to do is hurt you."

     My back hits the window, and my bare foot lands on a piece of glass from the broken clock. The squeak of the door sounds again, and one of the servant woman walks in with folded material resting in her forearms.

     A part of me screams out for her to help me, but I know she won't. She places the material on the dresser and walks out the room without looking in my direction for a second.

     "A change of clothes. You can't possibly sleep in a ballroom gown," Prince says with a chuckle. "Is your room comfortable enough? If you need anything feel free to ask."

     Prince stops in front of me, leaving little air between us, and I try to sink into the wall by holding my breath. "I don't want to be here," I manage.

     His face tightens, and the right edge of his smile twitches. ". . .This is a great home," he says, stepping even closer. "I have everything you could ever desire right under this roof." I turn my head to look away, but he quickly grabs my cheeks, forcing me forward. "You'll learn to love it here," he says with a grin.

     Prince walks out of the room with his fingerprints burned on my face. Still against the wall, tears stream down my face relentlessly. Every thought tells me that I'm not getting out of here.

     I glance at the clothes on the dresser, but the more I look at them the more I notice something odd within the fold. I wipe my face with the back of my hands and push myself off of the wall.

     A rectangular outline protrudes from the center of the soft material. I unravel the fold revealing a silver lighter with the word 'Swailing' engraved on it.

     The metal of the lighter is cool to the touch as I roll it in my hand, and a terrible idea forms.

     He'll let me out of this room if he has no choice. And I can't stomach what would happen to me trapped in this room. The doubt is more reasonable than the action. But I silence it.