The Tattooed Prince

The Tattooed Prince(12)

The walls keep the past we try so hard to forget. This palace has captured every cry to every laugh from every person that has lived here.  Before my family took over the thrown, there lived a different Royal family. They had a small child, a boy, who before they took over Spain was the cheeriest child they had ever had. My grandma used to tell me he would run around all over the palace, making everyone joyful with his bright smile. She would say he was one of a kind, a special boy, who one day would be king. Slowly this palace sucked the happiness out of him, he stopped cheering up everyone. As he grew older The Royal Counsel had to keep him locked up in the palace, because he was nothing but trouble. He would run away and come back with bruises, and scratches. They always tried to ask him what he was doing, but he never responds. Grandma said he turned bitter and cold, she couldn’t be near him without feeling an ache in her soul. One night he tried to end his life by jumping off the third floor, he was tired of living a life he didn’t ask for. His parents stopped raising him the moment his father became king, he no longer could call his mom, mom, and time finished him off. By the time the ambulance got here he had died…

                  I had no idea why Sebastian was telling me a story like this. He was supposed to keep my mind off the thunder storm, but I was feeling sadder then when he found me.  My heart ached from the sadness this boy felt.  He truly had to be the saddest boy that ever lived in this palace. I could only imagine how terrible his parents felt.

                  “Why are you telling me such a sad story?” I whispered looking up at his emotionless face.

                  He ignored my question and kept on talking. Sometimes when you stay silent, you can hear every single moment these walls captured. But at times if you stay silent and calm you can hear the little boys laugh echo through this palace.

                  I stood up making him stop with the story; I didn’t want to hear anymore. I agree places always keep the moments that once were lived in them, but some moments are better be kept untold. Whoever this boy was that couldn’t handle this place, I hoped he was finally resting in peace. 

                  “Stop, I’m going to have nightmares,” I slithered.

                  He stood up and rolled his eyes slightly at me. “I thought you would like to know a little history about this place,”

                  “Yeah I would, but not about a boy who killed himself!” I cried out.

                  He shuffled my hair around with his hand. “You don’t get the story now, but you soon will! Anyway, the storm stopped and I’m exhausted, good night.” I watched him as he left my room quietly.

                  He confused me, one minute he was the sweetest thing ever and the next he was scaring the living hell out of me. He was more tormented then I thought he was.  I left the closest and went over to Mr. Bear. Grabbing a hold of him I wiggled his nose around.

                  Do you think a boy actually died here?

                  I tried to imagine someone trying to end their life because of the loneliness in this place, but I couldn’t put my mind to it. I hate this palace but not enough to end my life for it. The boy should’ve chosen a different decision.  Ending your life didn’t seem like the perfect escape, unless he really was dying of depression in here.

                  Pushing the story Sebastian told me aside, I went back downstairs. Sophia and Gilbert were chatting quietly in the kitchen. Once I stepped inside their whispers stopped, and they tried to play it off cool.