The bravest and most handsome prince in the entire kingdom is getting married to the beautiful princess, when a dragon attacks and kidnaps his future wife. He embarks on a quest to save her, but takes too damn long to return, so his sister leaves th...
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Why did life hate me so much? What could I possibly have done so wrong that everything bloody hated me?
Well, of course, everyone knew that my biggest mistake was being born- even I was aware of it. My mother had made it pretty clear over the course of my life.
Or should I say curse of my life? Eh? Get it?
Even when I'm dying, I'm damn hilarious. I don't even know why I'm surprised. Being funny runs in my veins! And so does being a burden, but whatever. Who cares about that, am I right?
Of course I'm right. I'm always right. I mean, look at what happened with Jason; he didn't listen to me and ended up feeling guilty for months and even years to come. Or my mother; her face when we returned to the palace was priceless. You should have been there. Pity it was a one-time event...
Anyway, I was still sick until about a week later, when I finally started feeling better.
"Okay, I swear, I'm good to go. Really." I said, getting out of bed and walking around the room. "See? I can walk. No dizziness. I haven't puked in two days. I'm fine."
"Are you willing to take that risk? Because I'm not." Jason crossed his arms.
"I'm willing to take any risk apart from going through another swamp and walking by fairy territory. Anything else is fine by me." I shrugged.
"You're unbelievable."
"That's why I'm so awesome."
"Yep. You're fine. Your good, old narcissistic self is back. We're good to go now." he sighed and picked up his makeshift backpack or whatever.
"I'm not a narcissist! I just know how amazingly perfect I am in every way." I smiled proudly.
"Yeah. Definetly. Not a narcissist at all." Jason rolled his eyes.
Now, I know I've been skipping a lot of time, but the thing is that there aren't many significant events happening, other than my being sick and almost dying.
I'm not overreacting. This wasn't the last I'd seen of the yellow fever, as a couple of days later, it returned stronger than ever and determined to get me killed.
Like, imagine standing and having someone bump into you and bring you down; that was the beginning of my illness. Its return was like standing near a cliff and having someone push you down; you can either hold on until someone helps you or you find a way to climb back up or give up and fall to your death.
I was really close to giving up, that's all I have to say before going into detail.
Two days had passed since we left and everything was fine. I felt healthy. I was under the impression that I was well and done with all that.
The fever didn't really agree. It wasn't going to give up without a fight- in its opinion at least, because from my point of view? Our latest battle had knocked me out cold.
