Unmarked

Seven

Hey everybody! How are you guys doing today?

I'm trying to figure out an updating schedule, so can you amazing, beautiful people comment which days you'd prefer I update? I kind of put off writing this chapter...haha... what happened (literally):

*Starts writing chapter*

*finds good book to read in between writing and foraging for dark chocolate in my desk*

*Says "I'll write later" and reads the entire book*

*says "meh one more book"*

*finally starts writing and editing this chapter at four A.M.*

ANYWAYS, I wanted to thank you all so so so so much because this book is already #121 in Fantasy! And, it already has 4K+ reads which is so amazing and I cried because of how happy I was. Again, thank you all.

Have a good day and vote, comment, and share!

Remember to be good to each other! <3

Bye

P.S. Sort of mature content but not really, you've been warned. ;)

Word Count: 2664

Chapter Seven:

An hour.

A full sixty minutes to get my shit together, and I've wasted thirty of those minutes sitting on this bed. Well, sitting on this bed and picking out an outfit.

Inside the closet the prince had directed me to, were fancy dresses and gowns of all kinds. There were mountains of pink that overflowed from the racks and seas emerald green fabric which made me nauseous. Who in Adam and Eve's name would ever wear dresses like these? They were the kind of dresses that pushed your boobs up and made your waist look tiny, the kind that you'd only see in movies.

It was almost as if a princess had lived in this room. Ew, princess.

I hated the word, it just screams something you don't want it too. Princess screams "breakable", "like fine porcelain", "damsel in distress", and so much more, all thanks to the man... Qwalt Fisney, who made all of those princess movies. When I was little, I always wanted to be the prince or the villain, but never the princess, unlike all the other little girls my age. I longed for adventure, excitement, pure thrill and danger, which is what I reenacted for my mothers friends on the couch of my living room. They always laughed and told me I was cute and adorable, I longed for that kind of praise - but I also longed to be someone entirely different. Someone new. Someone who didn't have to hide the fact that they had special powers, someone who had a Mate-Tattoo, someone who had a future ahead of them. Which, even at the feeble, naïve age of seven, I knew would never be a possibility for me.

I have never wanted to be a princess, but I also never wanted to be different.

After I had dug through the entire closet, I had found one single pair of jeans. One. single. pair. of jeans - my holy Coca-Cola. Within my search I had also found a plain black shirt which I hastily pulled on along with the too-tight jeans, which hugged my butt and hips like a life-line.

Glancing around the room, I groaned. I need to get out of here, and soon.

That's when it hit me.

The window you moron!

I dashed to the window and glanced out of it, almost about ready to scream "praise Fate hallelujah" at the top of my lungs. The room which I stood in was only one level above a courtyard which led to gates...which led to a road, which led to my fudging freedom. Even more to my advantage, a sturdy looking pipe was to the right of the window, which ran all the way to the ground.