VII

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Digging through my thrash wasn't the most fun thing I have done in a while, but somehow the note had slide to the very bottom of the trash almost as if it was mocking me. Deciding that the only way for answers is to respond to the crazy scribbles I grab a black pen from my makeshift pen holder and lay the note across the counters in the kitchen looking over the words once more.

Dear Creep,

Why.

Thanks,

Sultana.

I didn't even put a question mark on the 'why' for some reason. As if I am demanding he tells me everything all at once and there is no room for argument. The note seems to shimmer a slightly different way and a new thing of scribbles forms where the initial note from this Raphael sat.

You decided to respond? What do you wish to know my Princess? Ask and you shall receive an answer. Also, I assure you I am no creep.

Your Welcome,

Raphael.

He seems almost sarcastic in his response, but I move along trying to process that this is happening... that this magic paper is allowing me to communicate with someone.

Princess?

Sultana.

The question seems straight forward enough in my head and I wait for the paper to shimmer slightly almost excited for the response.

Are you asking why you are being called Princess? That is not what I expected your first question to be. Well if that is what you wish to know... it is because I have chosen you to be my bride Sultana Wild, you are the Queen to be.

With love,

King Raphael.

His response quickly freaks me out and I lay my pen down across the paper walking away slowly. I want no part of whatever that is. Or whoever he is. Who in their damn mind thinks they can just tell a woman what is going to happen? How can this man magically speak to me through a piece of paper and why is he wanting to marry me?

A sharp pain shoots through my head and I lay my palm over the aching area. What the fuck is going on? I try to open my eyes and black stars seem to glimmer over the room taking over every part of my vision. The pain increases forcing me to grunt in pain as I fall to my knees now using both of my hands to squeeze my head as if it will help. I see a small amount of movement from my front door, but before I could comprehend who is entering my home, I fell forward knocking myself out on the floor.


"Purple! Purple!" A voice forces itself through my head and shakes my non-existent thoughts as I slowly start to make out the cold floor underneath my butt. I crack open my eyes and then shut them again the light being too much all at once, but slowly I try again, and Lady sits before me on the floor, but she doesn't look quite right. Her eyes glow red and her body is covered in black swirly tattoos from the neck down. The scars seem even more agitated than they usually are as well as I look over her. She continues to say my name and I blink once opening them again to see that she looks normal. Completely normal. No tattoos or red eyes, just Lady, my completely normal, not crazy, neighbor.

"Lady?" I mumble and start to rub my head as I am laid back against the cabinets.

"Purple, thank the monsters that you're alright!" She pulls me close into a hug which is something she has never done before, I don't even know how to react. I haven't been hugged since... well forever.

"What?" My voice starts to sound more normal and she pulls away looking me over once again.

"Well I was hoping you could tell me. I was reading the newspaper and I heard a scream from your home, so I ran over. Then much to my surprise when I break into your house, I find you freaking the devil out and then knocking yourself out on the floor! We need to get you to the hospital! You might have a concussion!" Lady practically screams and starts to run her hands over me checking for any obvious injuries.

"Just a headache." I reply not wanting to go to the hospital, I have no way to explain the bruises on my body. I look over to my side and see the familiar note sitting beside me, but this time there isn't a single word on the paper, just burnt edges and a golden glow. Lady begins to speak against distracting me.

"That was not 'just a headache' Purple. That was... that was something else. We are going to the hospital. Get up." I don't move, "GET UP!" She screeches and suddenly I am standing and walking with her to her car that sits in her driveway.

She shoves me into the passenger side of her car and closes it behind me and runs over to the driver's side pulling her keys out of the jeans she chose to wear today. Never in my short amount of living next to her have I seen her so... normal. Her jeans and t-shirt look like they could fit me, and her hair is pulled back into a messy bun. No longer does she look like an old lady that bakes cookies, but a warrior that couldn't be over forty.

She doesn't say a word as she starts the car and backs out of the drive way in such a jostling way, I almost had to grab the oh shit handle. She mumbles a quick sorry and drives away from our homes quickly. Checking the side mirror, I see a male figure running towards the back of the car, but before I could say anything Lady takes a sharp turn and the man disappears around the corner. Before I could ask any questions about it, she looks over at me and smirks, "Crazy teenagers ya know?"

I nod agreeing with her, but somewhere deep inside me I could tell that wasn't a teenager, that was a man, Jamal, and he was coming for me.

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