My F*cked Up Fairytale

RETURN - CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

An ache shoots up my spine, and it lingers deep within my shoulders. It slowly brings me forth from the deepest depths of my mind. The first thing I gather is the unfamiliar sensation of a hard, unforgiving seat beneath me. Then distant yawns and deep sighs weave their way to my ears. Those weaker sounds eventually become overpowered by an almost faint trickle of words, sourced from a flat voice that lacks any form of emotion. 

I know that voice. I know these heavy notes of boredom. I know this uncomfortable seat. I know it all, yet it seems so foreign to me as I lift my head from the safety of my arms. 

The relentless tingling in my feet and the dried drool crusted on my chin tells me I have been asleep for quite a while. That isn't necessarily a bad thing, as I haven't exactly been getting proper amounts of sleep with all the wedding prep...Wedding? 

My eyebrows scrunch together at the strange memory that wiggled into my head. Here I am, sitting in my college lecture hall, just barely scraping by with a bit of money from my part-time work. I don't even have enough time to do my homework, let alone get married! And besides, I just got cheated on, so there's no way I'm marrying that sad excuse of a bastard.

But, for whatever reason, I can almost recall the cold sensation of metal encasing my now barren ring finger. I can almost feel a pair of warm, comforting lips locking with mine. I can almost hear the sweet melody of a harp flowing through the air. However, I have no idea where these memories can be coming from. The only logical explanation is that I had one hell of a good dream. 

I smile, almost sadly. If only I had slept a little longer, then I wouldn't have to force myself to tune in to my professor's lesson on our latest study. We are currently discussing one of the ten short stories found in the book we just finished.

I have to admit, the last short story is not my favorite, especially since it involves royalty of all things. The only thing preventing me from completely wanting to trash it is the ending. It's not a happy ending but a sad, unexpected one. 

To summarize it without being too boring: the rightful heir to the throne is betrayed by his eldest brother, and the eldest unjustly rises to power along with the former prince's wife. Unfortunately for him, his glory is short-lived, and he and his wife meet a befitting end at the hands of their people. 

The recollection of the ending makes an unsettling feeling spill into my stomach. I grimace, quickly averting my eyes from my closed book. My hand shoves the book over to the right. The student next to me gives me a fleeting glance, confusion hanging in their gaze. I ignore it and try to focus on my professor. Maybe his boring, sleep-inducing lesson will ease my upset stomach and almost chaotic mind.

My professor paces up and down the lengthy stretch of floor, slightly leaning forward with his hands clasped behind his back. He's decked out in his usual outfit that's barely on the line of professional attire. His shirt is an untucked dress shirt that is left unbuttoned halfway through, almost as if he grew too tired to bother with the last few buttons. Matching with the dress shirt are beige khakis that drape over his loafers. Every so often, he'll unknowingly step on the back end of his khakis.

I count the amount of times this happens as he speaks, "I'd like you to carefully examine the ending, and then, explain to me why you think the eldest brother deserved the demise he faced. Before you simply say 'yes', try to put yourself in his place. You'll find that you might just begin arguing that he was slighted, as he was originally supposed to..."

All I need is to listen to only a few short sentences from my professor and the strange feeling within me dissipates to make way for pure boredom. I join in with my other classmates as I yawn, already beginning to think of the dreadful assignment to come.