The Dragon King

Chapter 5 - Reality

Anna May

Sometimes, understanding the difference between reality and dreams can be unexplainable. What could be a reality could very well be a dream. What could be a dream could very well be a reality.

I'd read so many fantasy books and even studied a few legends and myths. In addition to studying abroad, I learned about other religions, cultures, and beliefs. Scientifically, these stories aren't possible.

However, I was starting to understand that stories started from somewhere. It could be a lie that spread, or it could a truth that spread. Along the way though, lies attached themselves to the stories that were told. Regardless, it was messy and unbelievable...well, until now.

I could argue that I was dreaming. I could deny the fact that what I was feeling, touching, smelling wasn't real, but I couldn't ignore the voice in my head.

I had holed myself up in the bedroom for three nights. For three nights, I went to bed and hoped that, when I woke up, it would all be a dream. But every time I woke up, I was still in this gold enchanting room. I was still dressed in gold-threaded clothes, and I was still underneath miles of water.

I missed my family and that overcame the hindering fear that was simmering beneath my emotions. My thoughts were consumed with the longing to be back home. I hadn't really stopped crying.

Sitting in the bed, I wrapped my arms around my knees, the sheer chiffon dress splitting and falling slightly from my position.

I couldn't move.

I couldn't think.

It was as if time was at a standstill and as if I was in a nightmare that I couldn't wake up from.

I heard the bedroom door open, but I didn't care to look and see who it was. My eyes were focused on the wall, but my mind was elsewhere.

The bed sunk slightly at the weight of the interrupting individual. A large, calloused hand touched my forearm. I flinched at the warmth of his hand, and he pulled it back when he saw this.

"Anna..." he said softly.

"Don't," I whispered in a monotone.

"I'm sorry that it came to this—"

My eyes snapped to his. "Don't tell me lies. You are not sorry."

I saw the way his smile thinned slightly at my harsh accusation. His jaw twitched with a hint of annoyance.

"You're right. I am not," he stated with an inexpressible look. "You're mine now."

"I'm nobody's," I hissed before turning to look at the wall again, deciding that I didn't really want to talk right now to anyone and to him in particular.

He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. His grip was harsh and firm, but his eyes were soft.

"You need to accept the fact that you won't be going home."

"Fuck you," I glowered at him, throwing all the hateful emotions into those two words. It came out venomous, but I hated him at that moment.

In the blink of an eye, he wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me off the bed. My body completely plastered onto his. I kicked and punched him.

"Let me go!" I ordered.

"No, you will listen to me." He pushed me up against the wall, pinning my wrists above my head. His legs trapping my legs from kicking him. If I was close to him before, I was even closer now. His lips were mere centimeters from mine.