Rouge Princess

Chapter 1

I woke to the sound of breaking glass. It sounded like it hit a wall not that far away with a dull thud, and the pieces shattered even more when they hit the floor. Someone shrieked, and another person started yelling. It was a deep hoarse sound, and multiple sets of footsteps came closer. I kept my eyes closed and shallowed my breathing to make it look like I was still sleeping.

Where am I? The sheets were soft and velvety, but where was I? What happened? Wait, who am I? I thought about these questions as I listened to the argument. I heard the unmistakable sound of water being splashed around in a bowl, and the sound of coarse bristles sweeping up glass on a hardwood surface. How can I remember all these sounds, but not remember who I am, or where I am?

More splashing water, and I felt a damp, cool cloth on my forehead, the corners of my lips twitched ever so slightly. A set of footsteps receded from the room, which was filled with creaking of an old chair under someone's weight. I decided that it might be best to get up after they left, and it seemed like it would be awhile till they did. I wasn't sure how much time passed before they blew out a candle and the room fell into blackness. A door closed quietly, and I could hear the soft click as it latched.

I opened my eyes and waited about twenty minutes before I got up. Dim light shone through the edges of a thick blanket nailed above a window like a curtain. Peeling back a corner showed the graying sky as dusk darkened. A brick path led around the side of the house as far as the eye could see, the ground was slick with thick brown mud, and beyond the low cobblestone wall, a town stretched across the horizon.

An elegantly carved tabled covered in dark polish stood on the other side of the window, and on that table sat a candle. I struck a match and lit it, shadows danced on the wall with the tiny flame.

Time seemed to stop.

Flame.

Flame.

I blinked, and the world came back into focus. The last and only thing I remembered was yellow flame. I sat staring at the flame for god knows how long, trying to remember more. At the sound of footsteps, I hastily blew out the candle and tiptoed my way back into bed and under the covers, where I once again pretended to be sleeping.

The door creaked open. "Huh, I could've sworn I saw light," a boy whispered to himself suspiciously. He drew closer, lifting a corner of the blanket over the window, "that's odd, the candle wax is still hot."

I could sense that he was watching me with weary eyes. "You can trust me," he whispered. "I know you're awake."