Guilt
651 Words
The guard rushes me back to my tower with an iron grip on my arm. He practically throws me into the room, then spits on the floor at my feet.
The hatred and disgust in his eyes is clear.
“Geeze,” I say in my cheeky little voice, “No need to be so hostile.”
“You shoved HORSE POOP in my face!” He roars, “It was in my mouth and everything!”
I can’t help but snicker a little. “Sorry about that, but can you blame me? I’m a prisoner in my own home.”
“That’s your own doing,” he mutters. “It would do you some good to learn your place.”
With that, he slams the door shut and locks it with that enchanted key.
Why do people keep telling me that? “Learn my place,” they say. Well, what if I don’t like the place that’s been set for me? What if I want something more from life than just becoming a baby factory to an old, stinky man who doesn’t even love me?
I pull the blade from the bodice of my dress, and I finally exhale a little. I’ve been holding my breath to keep it from cutting deeper into my flesh. I look at it with a little smirk, for this little saw is my ticket to freedom.
I throw the blade onto the bed and peel off the s**t-stained dress, then hold it out in front of me. The smell is awful, so I crumple it in a ball and shove it through the bars of my window. At the rate I’m going through dresses I’ll be wandering around naked before long. I smirk at the thought of what my father’s face would look like if I did.
I look down at the blood-stained chemise and realize I’ll have to change that too. Great.
I begin taking that layer off too, and visions of my morning stroll begin to flash in front of my eyes. And visions of Ladon appear too. He was so quiet and mysterious before. Seeing him today was like I was truly meeting him for the first time. He was so fun, so mischievous, and so... magnetic.
I shake my head and blink my eyes, wiping away the tempting thoughts. I can't afford to get attached to anyone. Not now.
Suddenly a bone-chilling scream rings through the air. I run to my window and look out over the courtyard.
What I see below me is utterly horrifying. In the middle of the cloud of dust that’s still settling is a whipping post. There’s a man strapped to it.I squint my eyes trying to focus through the distance as I watch the poor boy clinging to the post with his bare, sweaty back glistening in the sun.
He turns his face slightly, and my heart hits the floor. It’s Ladon.
I watch in helpless horror as one of the guards lifts a whip high into the air, then brings it down with a crushing blow across Ladons back. His flesh gives way, and the red ooze of blood slowly begins to appear. He lets out another blood-curdling scream that makes my whole body convulse.
He’s there because of me. He’s getting punished because he helped me. I weaseled my way out of it, but these bastards still needed someone to blame.
My hand instinctively flies to my mouth as the scene unfolds, and I have to look away. It’s too painful to watch, and the guilt is crushing my soul.
Then my eyes settle on the blade laying on my bed and realize what I have to do.
- Writer
