Chapter Eight-I don't like clichés

35 3 4
                                    

"What did you say?" he whipped around facing me once more. I sighed, questioning whether I should repeat myself or not.

"I said," I felt a pang of pain as I remembered what had happened the last time I had uttered those words. " Knowledge is both a gift and a burden."

"Really, you think so," I loathed the way he spoke as though he had known me my whole life. I didn't even know his name or why I actually decided to stay here and listen to him. As every second passes the crowd of people or the authorities could be looking for me. Every second I waste here is a second I should be using to run away. 

"Yes, I do," I sighed again as I picked up my bag preparing to leave. I looked at my watch it was midnight now and I still hadn't found a place to sleep. My eyes ached with tiredness; I needed to get some rest. I crouched to the floor, grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder. It felt lighter: something was missing.

"Looking for something," his tone of voice had changed, it was no longer warm and friendly but almost cold.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am," I said whilst slowly turning to face him. He was brandishing my journal, flicking through it as though it was his own property. A sneering smile widened across his face as he looked up to meet my gaze. I stood there for a moment, consumed by utter shock before simply stating, " Are you going to turn out to be evil or something?" my mind whirled through all the different stories I had read about backstabbing and betrayal. He froze, the smile vanished from his features, he looked straight at me a perplexed expression on his face. 

I continued, "You know, in books about betrayal. The evil guy befriends the heroine or hero for whatever twisted reason. The story either goes one of two ways, one-" I paused to hold up the number one on my fingers in a patronising manner as though he didn't understand a word I was saying. "-the evil guy or girl realised they're desperately, almost casually in love with hero or heroine and the story ends with them confessing their true identity. Or-" I now held up the number two," - the antagonist, the evil character, cruelly backstabs the protagonist, the main character, and the story ends with them making an epic escape."

He just stood there confused, dazed even. Despite my limp,  I was quicker at him at reacting. I, as angry as ever, grabbed my journal and with all the strength I could muster punched him. My hand was covered in blood; surprisingly, it actually felt good to physically punch someone.

"But that's only in clichés... a word of warning, I really, really don't like clichés."

-

" I know who you are," I said mimicking his words as he stirred. I punched him harder than I expected, he fell back and hit his head and became unconscious. Now he was tied up against a tree with bandages and medical tape.

He opened his mouth to speak but I beat him to it." Hello Xavier, or should I say, your highness."

"Oh, so you finally figured it out," He sneered, his voice echoing through the darkness.

"Yes, I did," I spat.

"So how did you know, I don't look like I did before do I?" he asked sarcastically.

"You're a liar, and I despise you with every inch of my heart," I was trembling with anger now. Terrible memories engulfed my mind.

Don't think about it... come on don't think about it.

I  dropped to my knees. My breath was heavy. There was a sudden burst of pain in my chest as all the memories came flooding back. Everything hurt.

"Rose," he said almost sweetly. I looked up from the ground to see the concern in his eyes.

"You lost the right to call me that... years ago," I said slowly through ragged breaths.

You're probably wondering why I'm so distressed, after all, he's only a 13-year-old just like me nevertheless if you had my memories you wouldn't be asking.

"We're all entitled to be beautiful," he recited. What was he doing? There was a smirk plastered across his face as he saw my fists clench at the words. 

"That's..."

No, don't say it

"What.."

Please, no...

"Xavier told me," he finished with an air of nonchalance whilst he mimicked my voice. I should've walked away when I had the chance. Why did  I let curiosity get the better of me? Even though he was the one tied up against a tree, I felt like a thousand snakes were coiling around my stomach.

Snap out of it, he's just toying with you like he always did.

My face flushed red with anger. I got up from the ground and carefully brushed the leaves of my jeans. He began to laugh hysterically at my reaction.

" I told you not to go looking for trouble... well you've just found it," I remarked, the volume of my voice rising.

"You think that's supposed to scare me," he cackled. " Look at yourself you're terrified out of your wits of me,"

"You wish," I snarled.

"My guards will come for you," he threatened. 

"Guards yeah right," I snorted, loudly. " You've been unconscious for what.." I paused to count how many hours. It was almost dawn. " five maybe six hours. Yeah, I actually stayed up all night and waited for you to wake up and you expect me to believe that you have an entourage of guards waiting to save their beloved prince."

I took a deep breath before continuing, " You didn't fake kidnap, did you?" I crouched down, going as close to him as I dared, glaring into his cold, glassy brown eyes. " Why?"

Note to reader:

*Waits for the reader to take in what has just happened* so how's that for a twist. How many of you expected the guy from the cafe to actually be a prince who has some history with Rose. Hmm... how'd you like the name, notice this is the first time you find out her name. I deliberately kept it until this moment, to show that Xavier here knows a lot about her that we don't know yet. 

What do you think Roses memories are? Don't you find it weird that she's the only one who refuses to use the chemicals, maybe there's a reason? Just something for you to think about. By the way, this chapter was meant to be much shorter but I thought hey there's no harm in making it longer and if it makes just one more person in the world happier then it was worth it.

Please tell me what you think, I could do with some constructive criticism. That's all for now. Hope you have a lovely day.

Lavender







We are all entitled to be beautifulWhere stories live. Discover now