# Crazy Author Dream+story...



## Ebonyisforme

Okay, so I have wanted to be an author for as long as I can remember. My 11 year old sister absolutely loves my stories and constantly asks me if I have added anything. So....here is one I am writing as of right now. Really long, so sorry, but it is a book, not a short story. I write books but they aren't good enough, I think. Tell me what you think of it if you do read it! Thanks! It is called "When Wishes Come True" in case you are wondering.:lol:

Chapter 1:

“So, that’s it, then? You’re breaking up with me?” I say, staring into the eyes of the man I thought I loved. He grabs my elbow as I turn away. I yank my arm away from him.

“Aw…Come on Nikki!” Chase says exasperated. “Don’t be like that!” I turn around, mouth wide open at his stupidity.

“Oh?” I ask, “And how it is I should act when I find out my boyfriend got my best friend pregnant?” I glare into his eyes, furious at how stupid he could be, how stupid I could be. The signs were all there. I should’ve known it was coming.

With that, he stares at the ground, muttering quietly, “Come on Nikki, not in front of all these people! I-I-I didn’t mean to. It just, sorta, well, you know, happened.”

Wow, he’s getting more stupid by the second. “Chase, getting into bed with someone doesn’t just happen on accident. Neither does late nights at your apartment with my best friend while I’m on vacation!” I yell. People are looking up from their lunch now. Good, let them see him as the two-timing jerk her is. 

“Let’s just give him a break and go cool off with some ice cream.” Christi says, grabbing my hand.

“No!” I snap, tearing my hand out of hers, “You don’t think I’m mad at you too? What kind of friend gets into bed with her best friends boyfriend? Well, congratulations! He’s all yours now! Enjoy!” I whirl away, my stiletto’s clicking as I stomp away as well as I can in heels.

A few people try to stop me as I walk out of the High School Cafeteria. I walk past them all, I don’t need a pity party. I need a new life.

There’s a few more classes left but I don’t care, I just want to get home, grab a big box of tissues, and lay in bed for the rest of the day. So that’s what I do.

After I have completely coated my entire floor, and bed with tear-soaked tissues, I decide this can’t go on anymore. Chase was a jerk. I shouldn’t be crying over him, I should be moving on with my life. My phone rings for the 28th time, and, for the 28th time, I ignore it and let it go to voice mail.

“Nikki! I know you’re there!” Christi’s voice comes through the speaker. “Come on, girl! Call me back! I love you!” I shut off my phone, tired of her backstabbing voice. 

I don’t need her or Chase. I did fine before I knew them, and I will do fine now. Swinging my legs out of my bed, I walk over to my pink full-size mirror and take all the pictures off of it. Memories flood back, Chase and I at the state fair, the time when he was drinking soda and I made him laugh so he snorted it up his nose. Fireworks, when he bought me a dozen roses and we laid on the grass eating Cotton Candy. Trying on all the ugliest clothes we could find at the mall just so we could laugh. The day he put makeup on to cheer me up because a girl at school had been rude.

I rip them all up and throw them away. Then look at myself. I look horrible! Grabbing my bathrobe, shampoo, and conditioner, I head to the shower.

After a nice shower, I apply my makeup and get dressed. No more crying, Nikki. Time to be a big girl.

It’s after midnight when I decide I better call Christi back and at least see what she has to say. After all, she’s left me 122 messages and I figure that calling her back is the only was the messages will stop.

I dial her number and wait. It rings 4 times before someone answers. Yes, I counted. Okay! I was nervous! It’s silent for a second before I hear Christi in the background. “Chase, don’t answer that! Hand it over!” She giggles.

“Hello?” She says, then laughs, “Chase stop! That is not what she looked like! Shh! I’m on the phone! Sorry, what?”

“Never mind. Sounds like you’re busy.” I say, then hang up before crying some more.

After coating my floor and bed with tissues a second time, I decided to go on the lawn. Taking a pillow, I lay down on the green blanket of grass, and stare up at the stars.

It’s not long before I see a shooting star. I wish my life was a fairytale. People in fairy tales have it so good! I wish my life was a fairytale. I think it over and over again.

Chapter 2:
I wake up on a feather mattress. Snuggling into the bulky blanket, I hide from the Winter Coldness. Wait a second! I don’t have a feather mattress and it’s the middle of Summer! I groggily open my eyes to see a bald man in a very old fashioned tuxedo (and when I say very old fashioned, I mean really, really old fashioned) standing over me with a tray of something that redefines the word food.

“Y-y-y-your Majesty! I didn’t mean to disturb you! Please, please don’t hurt me! I just came to give you your breakfast!” He nervously pleads, the tray shaking in his wrinkled hands.

I sit up, and rub the sleep out of my eyes. Where am I? I am in a room built of stone. One bear skin decorates the otherwise barren floor. Tapestries hang on all walls. Other than that,the bed is the only thing in the huge room. Unless you count the tiny wardrobe hidden in one corner.

“Where am I? Who are you?: I ask the man

He gives me a confused look and answers my question hesitantly, 
“Well, Your Majesty, you are in your castle, and I am but 1 of your 153 servants.” Wait. Did he just call me Your Majesty? In my Castle? With 153 servants?

I look at him like he’s a crazy person. After all, he probably is. “Someone left you a letter.” The man hands me the letter, bows, and backs off like I am going to slap him.

I open the letter slowly, keeping him in the corner of my eye as I peel off the red stamp. A off-white paper flutters out and falls onto my lap. It says:

Nikki Reynolds 5”6 Eyes-Blue

Hair-Black Skin-Fair

Age-17 Wishes Granted-1

Ms. Reynolds,

`	You have been chosen by the Fairy Council as one of only 2000 in the worlds, both fairy tale and reality, to have a wish granted. Your wish was for your life to become a fairytale. So here you are , in a fairy tale. It is your job to find out who you are in this fairy tale and why. If you ever wish to return home, you must prove you have learned your lesson.

~Fairy Godmother #012846307

As I read the last words, the letter disappears with a pop and glitter showers the room. Great. I’ll believe that when I see it.

“What is your name?” I ask the crazy man who may not be so crazy.

“You prefer to call us slaves, not by our names.” He answers quickly adding a “Your Majesty”

“Well. Whoever I was yesterday is gone. What is your name?” I say, confused. I don’t know any fairy tale princesses that are that rude.

“But, Your Majesty, not to offend you, but well, you see, the last time a servant said his name was anything other than slave or worthless, he was executed.” He backed up against a wall, cowering in fear.

“What? I did? Just tell me your name!” I say, swinging my legs out of bed.

The man suddenly turns red and hurries to the door. “I will send someone to help you get dressed, Your Majesty.” He says without a glance back.

That’s when I realize for the first time what I am wearing. Nothing but a silk and lace nightgown that only goes down to my upper thighs! That’s definitely embarrassing! 

I wrap the blanket around me and wait for someone. I wait, and wait, and wait. If I knew where my clothes were, I would do it myself, but I don’t so I wait. Finally, a little blonde girl who looks no more than 7 comes in.

“My momma told me not to come, but I was the only one who wasn’t afraid. Thomas said you were in one of your cuckoo moods again.” She explains quickly.

I stare at her, unsure if this is real or a crazy dream. “Well, come on!” She says, clapping, “We have to get you dressed.”

She skips across the room, “My name’s Ann, by the way. Now black, or, well, black?” She pulls two dresses out of a wardrobe.

Ew, and ew. They look like Cruella Devile went on a shopping spree….without the white. I take the one with less of a high collar and slip it over my head. As I slide it over my shoulders, I look up to see her staring up at me, mouth hanging wide open.

“I’m supposed to help you, Your Majesty.” she says, dumbfounded. 

“Who am I, exactly?” I ask. She looks at me, confused.

“Why, you’re the Evil Queen, of course.” She answers matter-of-factly.

Chapter 3:
“I’m, I’m the what?” I stutter. She’s got to be delusional. Fairytales are all about the Princesses who get the perfect guy. Evil Queens are kind of the background characters, they exist, but don’t. I don’t even know one of the Evil Queen’s names! I know all of the Princess’s!

“The Evil Queen!” She answers absentmindedly, “You know, everyone is scared of you, you burn down inns full of people just for fun.” She looks at a wall and shudders, remembering something my character must have done. That is, if this is real and not some depression-induced, crazy dream. 

“I did that?” I ask, unsure why I am seeking answers from a 7 year old, who, for all I know, could be making all this up. Although, that wouldn’t explain the Butler.

“Yeah! That’s where my Daddy and my Baby Brother went. Mommy says they’re safe from you know. Mommy was crying when I had to come help you. I don’t think you’re all that bad, I mean, I make mistakes too, sometimes I lie, or take the extra peas at dinner. You see, I’m so hungry from not eating all day. Maybe, you’re like that too.” She answers seriously.

I blink away tears. “I’m so sorry, Ann.” I say, but words can’t begin to make up for what I’ve done. Or rather, what my character had done. After finishing with all the buttons and clasps on the dress, little Ann leaves.

I throw myself on the bed and cry. When I had wished for a fairytale, this wasn’t exactly what I had meant.

Suddenly, a Guard, armor and all, bursts through the door. “Your Majesty!” he says frantically, “3000 villagers, armed, lay siege on the castle as we speak! We must get you through the escape route!”

I look up slowly, tempted to just lie there and let the villagers come at me with their pitchforks. Then, I remember my family, and Ebony. The thought of getting back to both my family and my horse pushes me up.

I run to the Guard’s side and grab his hand. “Show me where.” I say gently. He takes a second to stare at me, obviously surprised at my kindness and gentleness.

Then we are running through the halls, speeding around corners. I knock over a old woman. She stares at me in horror, as if I am going to sentence her to execution right then and there.

I help her to her feet and we are off again, leaving her to stare after us in confusion as we dart away.

Finally, my sides aching, we reach a small, wooden door labeled ‘Cellar’. The Guard shoves the door open, looks around, and leads me in.

The stench hits me before I recognize what I am looking at. Skulls. Human Skulls. The Guard cringes, “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, you ordered the Route Keepers to be locked in here until they starved. No one’s been in here since.”

I almost hurl. Lord, please help me get home soon, I silently pray. I take the first step through mud, filth, and decaying people. Then, force myself to take another. And another.

We continue on that way until we reach another door. Going through it, a wave of fresh air rolls in and I sigh. Finally, I can breathe. I don’t have much time to take it in.

We stumble into tunnels. Along the tunnels, there are small holes where air leaks through, thankfully. I can’t handle another room like the last one.

“This way, Your Majesty.” He says brusquely, confirming my suspicion he would have rather left me for the villagers.

“Why is the castle being attacked?” I ask, genuinely curious.

He looks at me with the same look I suspect he reserves for crazy old ladies. Well, how am I supposed to know? “You’re the reason it’s being attacked. Those lives in there being lost, are being lost because of you. I guess you wouldn’t care about that since you think things like that are fun for you to watch! If you want me executed, so be it, but I will not sit by idly while you murder, rob, and plunder our people for entertainment!” He snaps, now yelling, clearly not too terribly worried about our safety anymore. His eyes flick around the room.

“I’m sorry!” I say for what seems like the 50th time that day. “Keep it down, please!” I plead, scared of the villagers who will do all they can to bring about my demise.

“Wait, you’re not going to have me executed?” He questions, confused.

I shake my head. If I had every person who had ever said anything slightly rude to me executed, more that half of the people I know would be dead! Which brings my thoughts back to Chase.

“Oh. Then we must hurry!” He says, his energy and vigor renewed. He tugs me out of my reverie. 

Loud banging and clattering suddenly fills the space behind us, then to the sides, and finally, the front, as armed villagers step out of the shadows, banging together whatever they hold. Pots, wooden spoons, pitchforks, cans, a couple shields and swords, all making an unbearable noise. “What? How?” I scream over the noise to my escort.

“Filthy Spies!” He yells back. He prepares himself to fight for my life, and suddenly, I know what I must do. I shakily throw myself to my knees and put both hands in front of me.

“We are no match for so many.” I say, almost apologetically to my Guard.

He hesitantly lowers his sword, puts it on the ground, kicks it away, and kneels beside me. For some reason though, he is grinning.

Quickly, a black man, no more than 21, darts in the circle, grabs the sword, and backs out again.

A couple of them yell in triumph. I slowly begin to stand up, not sure why, but knowing I must say something. “This morning, I couldn’t believe the things I had done.” I yell over them. After a couple “Yeah rights,” and “Whatevers,” they are ready to listen. “I am not the same person I was yesterday, but, I understand I have still done those horrible things, so, if you must, take me, but this brave guard was only doing his duty.” I finish, trying to sound heroic, but something about a voice cracking every other word doesn’t sound very heroic.

A couple of them laugh and yell names I would rather not repeat. Then, a girl, who looks no older than me, steps out. “My friends!” She yells in a voice much more heroic than mine. “We fight this day for justice! Not for bloodshed! If we take the Queen, and leave her escort, will we not get justice? She is the curse upon this land!” She points one slender finger at me.

Well, that was rude. The villagers erupt, yelling and screaming with triumph. A couple rush into the circle and grab me by both elbows and begin to drag me back through the tunnels, allowing everyone they pass to spit on me and slap my face.

Someone hits me over the head with something and I go unconscious.

Chapter 4:

I wake up slowly, coming to bearings with my world. It isn’t a dream, I am in a dungeon. There are hundreds of cells and I watch as villagers unlock each cell and let 5, 10, sometimes 20 people, men, women, and children out.

Cries of joy resonate throughout the prison as father, mother, child, husband and wife, are reunited. I discover I am shackled to the wall with steel cuffs. As people file out of the prison, a couple stop at my cell to spit on me. Great. Just what I always dreamed of, locked in a prison with people in rags spitting on me. Wonderful. And very wet.

The girl from this morning, yesterday, whenever it was, comes over and places both hands on the metal bars. “Were you serious about what you said yesterday?” She questions.

I stay silent for a second. “Yes,” I answer bluntly. “Now, can I get out of here?”

She looks at me, flips her blonde hair over her shoulder, looks at me harder. “I’ll see what I can do, but that may not be possible. People want you to suffer like they have for the past 5 years. They may not believe you. I know you have changed. The old you never would’ve done that for your Guard. The old you would’ve used your magic to get away, but yet you stay.” She says thoughtfully.

Wait a second! I have magic? Why did no one care to tell me that? Oh, wait. I’m supposed to already know that. “I really have changed. Just please tell them that.” I plead.

“I will try my best.” She promises before walking away.

Chapter 5:

For Dinner, I get bread crusts. No jam, butter, just crusts. I hear a rumor that they are 3 days old. When you have no power or knowledge of how to keep things fresh, 3 days is a long time, and...there may or may not be little chunks of mold speckling them. I haven’t eaten all day though, so I eat them anyways. Then, I puke. Gross.

I hear snickering and held back laughter. Across the room, children are staring at me. Pointing, laughing, and taunting, they scorn me. The oldest seems to be no more than 12, yet 
they have a sorrow, even as they laugh, that seems to lurk in the shadows of their hearts, put there by me, I guess.

I don’t blame them for wanting to hang me. I would if someone had caused me such sorrow and despair. It just doesn’t seem fair, though. I did nothing, yet I must suffer for the things that my character has done. I have a sudden idea. I want people to think I’ve changed, sitting her depressed and puking on the floor isn’t going to help with that. I want to take the sorrow out of all their eyes!

I smile as brightly as I can under the circumstances at the children. “Hello!” I call. They stop laughing. Looking at the others in their posse, they try to find out if I am talking to them or not.

The oldest decides to be brave and steps out from among his friends. “Are you talking to us, witch?” He asks, rudely.

“Yeah!” I answer, trying to smile no matter what they say.

He turns back to his group and whispers just loudly enough I can make out what he is saying, “She’s trying to trick us into letting her go. Ignore her, and don’t look at her eyes. My dad told me that when you look into her eyes, she can control you.” A couple of them nod before leaving.

I sink to the ground. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought. For the first time in my life, I know what it feels like to have everyone hate you. It’s a sickening feeling.

I feel pretty stupid when I think I wished this upon myself because of one boy at home. Now, because of that mistake, I may never see my family or my pets again. I would include friends, but after what happened, I’m not sure I have any to see. I’ve made a horrible mistake and now I must find out how to correct it.


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## Ebonyisforme

I have a lot more so if you like it, I will post the rest.


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## Roman

I really love it so far! Perhaps be a bit more descriptive on certain things and people. 
_Posted via Mobile Device_


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## Ebonyisforme

Awesome! Would you like me to put some more on?


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## Roman

Yes, please! 
_Posted via Mobile Device_


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## Ebonyisforme

Chapter 6:

The group of kids don’t come back, so I use the quiet time while no one is there, to think of ways to get home.

The letter said I must “prove I have learned my lesson.” How do you prove you have learned what’s really important.

I stand up, feeling refreshed as a plan starts to form. That whole day, I start looking at things differently. I smile and joke with whoever comes in. I actually got one person to laugh! It wasn’t a full, blown-out laugh, but a laugh none the less! 

For the first time since arriving in this medieval land, I feel a tinge of success.
I feel proud of myself. 

The girl with the blonde hair comes through the dungeon entrance. She marches to the cell and bangs on the bars loudly with her sword. “What did you tell them, you filthy heathen?” She yells.

I slowly raise myself. What in the world is she talking about? I look at her closer, trying to determine if she’s drunk or not. “Are you okay?” I ask.

Loud pounding sounds from the stairs and 2 guards charge into the room, grabbing her by both elbows and forcing her to drop her sword. “What have you done?” She screams as she is dragged out of the room.

Another guard comes down the stairs holding the key to my cell. Letting me out, he informs me. “Captain Smith has arranged the attack, we have overthrown the peasants. You will be returned to your place as Queen.”

Good. I won’t be sleeping on the same floor I barfed on. Then I realize what’s going on in the entirety. I gasp. “Where is the girl?” I question him.

The guard stops dead in his tracks. “Well, she’s dead.”

Chapter 7: 

The guard recovers of his shock in time to speak before I launch a thousand questions at him. “As leader of the rebellion, she had to be publicly punished. She was executed not 5 minutes ago.”

I explode, but you can’t blame me, can you? “What? As Queen, I should have been consulted!” I grit my teeth. Good thing there’s no Dentist here, or I would be in trouble!

“But, y-you were, Your Majesty. Nevertheless, I will let you speak to Captain Smith, if that is what you wish.” He softly, painfully says.

A tear escapes and slides down my cheek before I wipe it away. Following the guard, I decide once and for all, this has to stop, no matter the cost.

The worst thing about her death is that she died thinking I had sentenced her. It’s a thought I can not bear.

We reach the Barracks and I walk ahead of the guard. “Captain Smith!” I call.

To my surprise, the guard who tried to escort me away from the bloodshed steps out. “Yes, Your Majesty?” He bows.

“Why was I not consulted before the execution of that girl?” I demand, furious.

Captain Smith straightens from his bow, looks around at the dozens of guards staring before speaking. “It needed to be done. The villagers are getting stronger. If we don’t do something, they will attack, only with more. We may not be able to overcome them all.I suggest an attack against Laberg, the city the leader of the rebellion was born and raised, it would serve as a warning to all.”

“No!” I snap, “You want to stop the bloodshed with more bloodshed? That will only make them want to attack more!” Do these people know nothing about how bad civil wars can be? Oh wait, they don’t have history books.

“Of course, Your Majesty. Your wish is our command.” He bows again and I leave, pondering what to do with my predicament.

Chapter 9:

I wake up to screams. People screaming outside my window. “Give us the Queen! Give us the Queen! Give us the Queen! Give us the Queen!” They chant.

I sit up, suddenly wide awake. Ann comes to help me get dressed again. She seems sad this time, fighting back tears. I leave her alone, figuring if she wants to tell me, she will. I’m right.

“Why did you do it again?” She asks timidly. “Why did you burn it again?”

I know what has been happening now. Captain Smith has been using me as his pawn, doing horrible things ‘in the name of the Queen’ he gets his blood thirst quenched, and I get the blame.

I march out of my quarters, gathering guards as I go. We reach the barracks and I have the men search it for Smith. He’s not there. Great.

“Search the entire castle! I want him found!” I yell frantically, scared of what a crooked man like him might do next.

After a search of the castle doesn’t find him, I send them through villages. Days pass and he is still not found. I begin to lose hope. After one particularly unsuccessful day, I head to my quarters in despair.

Crashing onto my bed, I look at a map for the the hundredth time. Pins mark all the places we have searched. Only three areas in the kingdom are left, and those are being search at this very moment. I put my head in my hands and groan. The guards are barely keeping villagers from attacking, one more act blamed on the Queen could send the kingdom into war. I think he knows that.

“Frustrating trying to find someone who doesn’t want to be found, isn’t it?” A familiar voice says from across the floor.
I quickly look up, “Smith.” I growl. There is a gong by my window, if I can just reach that before he does anything, at least people will know he is in the castle. 

Smith stands in the far corner of the room polishing a small dagger. Eyeing the gong, he threatens, “Don’t even think about it or I’ll gut you so fast, you won’t know you’re dead. I’ll be a hero, and we’ll put your head on a stake in the market for all to see.” Suddenly, with a slight twist of his fingers, he sends the dagger flying across the room, perfectly straight. 

Pulling out another, he threatens, “Make one move and I’ll send one through your heart.”

Speaking of which, my heart’s pounding pretty fast right about now. But then again, who’s wouldn’t be?

“You know what’s marvelous about murdering a Queen like you?” He asks, “Everybody thinks you killed yourself because you couldn’t deal with the guilt anymore. Plus, they are so ecstatic, they don’t care to look into the how and the why.” He takes a step forward.

“I’ll finally get back at your family.” He says, filled with a bloodthirsty passion. “Watching you suffer will be almost as good as watching your mother suffer after having my father killed!” Licking his lips, he takes another step forward. “That’s right, your mother didn’t die in the birth of your brother, I killed them both!”

That’s when I realize I’m going to die anyways, so I might as well do it the heroic way. I lunge for the gong, hitting it once with my hand before a dagger pierces my shoulder and I cry out in pain.

Guards by the dozen burst into the room, circling Smith. I don’t know what happens next, I’m being carried to the infirmary.


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## Ebonyisforme

Chapter 9:

A nurse holds me down while someone who claims he’s a well-educated doctor examines the dagger protruding from my shoulder. You gotta remember, though, this is at the time when they used leeches for everything! I’m not feeling too safe!

“Well, the good news is, it’s not piercing anything vital, well, let’s hope so anyway. The bad news is we will have to amputate your left arm.” The ‘doctor’ says.

See why I don’t feel safe? I’ve had a bit of medical training though.

“No!” I exclaim, “Nobody is touching my arm! I’ll treat it myself!” I push the nurse away and slowly sit up, groaning as I do so.

I recognize some plants used for painkillers on the table and chew 3 leaves before I begin.

Scared to do it, but knowing it’s my only chance of keeping my arm away from Dr. Creepo over there, I get a scalpel and start a slow, steady incision around the knife.

I clench my teeth to keep from screaming bloody murder. Dr. Creep and his nurse stare at me, gawking. “What are you doing? Don’t you know the only way to keep it from spreading to the rest of your body is to amputate your arm now?” He asks.

Oh right, Gangrene, a huge deal back then, or now, whichever way you want to think of it. I finish the incision and let myself rest for a second as I hold a bandage to it to soak up the blood.

Once the bleeding somewhat stops, I start pulling out the dagger. It’s jagged edge snags on skin and tears through it.

I pull it all the way out, allowing myself to scream. I can’t hold it back. Could you?

I chew up some more leaves and spit on it, feeling the soothing effect. Wilderness Survival, I know, gross, right?

I leave it on there for probably 30 minutes, waiting for the pain to subside. When it does, I wipe it off and start on the stitches.

Wincing in pain, I pull the needle back through my skin, clenching my teeth to keep all the pain-induced noise inside. I knot the ends of the floss and break it with my teeth.

Groaning, I roll my shoulder back and forth, grab a handful of the leaves, and walk out of the infirmary more elegantly than I came in.

“Where’s Smith?” I ask my escorts.

Chapter 10:

I storm into the dungeon where Smith is being held, my heels clicking on the stone floor. “Smith!” I yell, furious.

“Ah, Your Majesty, my first visitor.” He says with an exaggerated bow. I grimace in disgust at the stench he lets out. He’s been drinking. He belches loudly and I back away from the pungent odor.

Then, my resolve kicks in. I stomp to the cell, grab him by the collar, pull him against the bars, and yell, “You listen, Smith! You are going to tell all the villagers what you’ve done, at noon tomorrow, or I will have you killed!” 

He shrugs, “I’d rather watch as they torture their Queen.” He continues, “And, you and I both know you don’t have the guts to kill your own father.” He smirks. “But, it doesn’t have to be like this, just give the throne back to my side of the family and we can rule together.”

Wait. Rewind. Smith is my father? Crap. “Try me.” I growl, trying desperately to sound at least a little bit intimidating.

I catch the attention of the guard behind me. “Go let all the guards know tomorrow, we have a public event. Whether it will be a execution or a confession, is Smith’s choice.” I say, glancing over my shoulder at Smith to see his reaction. There isn’t one.

The guard nods and hurries out of the dungeon. Maniacal laughter comes from Smith’s cell as I leave. “You think you’re so smart, Evelyn. But you don’t know what they will do when they see you. The villagers will kill you, and the throne will be given back to me.”

I keep walking, and the laughter follows me out the door.

A maid sees me and starts to scurry down the hallway, “No! Wait!” I say.

She stops, staring at the ground. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise!” I say, even though, to her, my promises probably don’t mean much.

But she slowly turns around. She’s pretty, with her dark curls, framing her heart shaped face. “What is your name?” I ask.

“Evelyn.” She says, suddenly standing tall and proud. She looks familiar in someway. Then, something clicks. I put my crown on her head and compare her to the portrait on the wall behind her. I have found the real queen.


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## Ebonyisforme

Chapter 12:

I pull her to my chambers, or rather, her chambers. “What is going on?” I ask her when we get there.

“I-I’m sorry,” She’s started sniffling. Great. Just what I needed. A crybaby. “I wished I w-wasn’t Queen a-anymore, and when I woke the next morning, I was in the Servant Quarters and you were Queen. I’m so sorry.” She’s full-blown crying now.

I pat her shoulder awkwardly. “It’s okay, we’ll get this straightened out.”

Her eyes go wide. “I can’t be Queen again! They’ll kill me!” She stands up and starts pacing, her fist in her mouth. “What are we supposed to do?” She is getting upset now. 

“Evelyn. I mean, Your Majesty. It’s going to be okay. We can get through it if we work together. I promise. Your father has been causing all of the things you have been accused of to happen. It’s his fault that you are hated. But, if we can just get him to confess to the villagers that it was him, we will be okay.”

She gasps. “My father did what?” She stops pacing and stares at me. “He couldn’t of. I guess that is why he was always gone. What else should I know?” 

“Well. Um...he said something about your mom. About watching her suffer the way he would watch you suffer. Or me. Whatever. I’m sorry.”

She sits, not able to stand any longer, and begins to cry. Hard. “I can’t believe that he would do that. I thought he loved her, loved me. Oh, everything is so messed up.” She puts her head in her hands and I watch sadly as her body shakes.

I scoot next to her and put an arm around her. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. I will do whatever I can to help. There’s only one more thing. We might have to execute your dad. If we don’t he will keep doing what he has been. I’m sorry.”

She suddenly stands up. “No. Don’t be. I understand completely. With how many people, wives, mothers, children, and fathers he has killed, it wouldn’t be fair if he didn’t die. I agree 100% this is what we have to do. What do we do first?”

“Tomorrow. We have a public event. It is either a confession, or a execution, depending on which one your father chooses. They still think I am the Queen. I will act as Queen, I want you to instill some doubt in the villagers. Make them doubt it was me, that maybe it could have been someone else. You can do that, can’t you?” I give her a hug, not sure which one of us need it more.

She nods and I stand up. “You are welcome to stay in here, after all, it is technically your room. No one has to know.” I’ve been in the Servants Quarters and believe me, it is not somewhere I would willingly go again.

She thanks me and unties her apron, laying it neatly across the bed. “It’s just, he’s always been there for me. I never noticed anything different. But now that you tell me, it makes perfect sense. There were little subtle signs I never noticed until looking back. Thank you, um, what was your name again?”

“Nikki. I’m so sorry about your Dad, I really am.” I gently reassure her.

“Nikki, that is a strange name. Well, Nikki, don’t be, really, we were never really close anyway. He always seemed to be doing something else, never actually there for me. It’s okay, really. We have to do what we have to do.” She says.

Wow. She is a trooper. I would not handle that near as well, no matter how much she was or wasn’t there for me. “Well, then let’s get some rest. We should be well rested for tomorrow. I have a feeling it is going to be a very emotional day.

Chapter 18:

I’m right. As well as Evelyn was handling it yesterday, she is sniffling today as we get ready. I pin a jewel in her hair, then take it out, remembering she is supposed to be a servant. She keeps wiping the tears as soon as they make it out, trying to keep from showing she is upset.

“It’s okay to be upset, Evelyn. I would be too. You don’t need to hide it.” I say. She shakes her head.

“It’s not okay to be upset, Nikki. This man is a murderer, a liar, a thief, and a maniac. I should not be mourning his death. Nor should I be hesitant about bringing it to pass. What if I am just as bad as he is? What if after he is gone, things keep happening? Because of me?” She sobs.

I hug her, wrapping my arms around her tightly. “Come on, Evelyn. You are nothing like him. Whatever he is, came from something other than genes. You aren’t going to be like him.” The horn sounds for the ‘event’ to start.

We take one deep breath, let it out, and begin down the stairs and to the courtyard, ready for whatever awaits us there. Or at least we hope so.

Before going down the hallway to the courtyard, we separate, Evelyn going down the servant exit, and me, the royal. When I get outside, I am astonished. The guards have managed to keep everyone calm. Until they see me. Then they start throwing whatever they have in their hands as they scream, swear, and curse.

I can see Smith smirking from inside his circle of guards. It’s a sight that makes me gag. I also see Evelyn, weaving through the angry mob, mingling as best she can while they are so riled up. She is in an active conversation with an old lady, that cheers me up a little. I may have a bit of back up. 

A guard signals that it is time for me to let everyone know why they are there. First, I have to talk to Smith. I slip between two of the guards in his escort. “Smith!” He looks up. “Which will it be? Confession, or death?”

“I’ll take confession.” He says, dismally. Something doesn’t seem right. Or maybe I am just being paranoid. Typical of me. I shake the feeling off and accept his reply. Making my way up the stairs to the ‘stage’ I rehearse in my head what I am going to say.

“People of Keerod! We gather here today for a public confession! Formerly Captain Smith will address us now!” I yell, before backing away and letting the guards lead Smith up the ramp.

Once Smith is up the ramp and front and center, he stares out at the crowd with a evil grin. Come on, just hurry and say it before they kill me on the spot.

“Friends! Family! I have been commanded, not invited, but commanded to come here today and confess a sin, a crime.” He pauses. Yes, now just hurry it up, we don’t want a huge speech, just a confession. “A crime I did not do!”

The crowd is in uproar. What? I’m going to kill him. I hear whispers behind me. “Typical of the Queen.” and “We should put her head on a stake for all to see.” I inch closer to my arsenal of guards.

“The Queen has commanded me to confess to you that I, of all people, am behind the murdering, plundering, and destruction of our people and city!” He yells. The crowd screams and surges forward, intent on making my torture real. 

I scream and dive into my circle of guards, eager for the protection they provide. Pulling out javelins, spears, and swords, they make a circle around me. A villager runs up the ramp and lets Smith free. He looks straight at me, smirks, and holds his free hands up triumphantly. 

I hate that man. He is the reason for all of this. I can see Evelyn, cowering before a villager with a mallet. He’s screaming at her as she cries. “This here girl is a supporter of the Queen! She should be killed with her!” He yells to anyone who will listen.

Yanking her by her arm, he pulls her to a standing position. He begins to bring his arm back to hit her with the mallet as hard as he can. I run, as fast as I possible can, and dive between Evelyn and the villager. He doesn’t have time to stop, and I don’t think he would have if he did. The mallet hits me in my bad shoulder with a dull thud.

I am lying on the floor, listening to the chaos and dimly watching as feet run beside me, leaving me to wallow in my pain and blood. The pain is so intense, I can feel myself fading in and out of consciousness. The man is called somewhere else and Evelyn hunches over me, whispering her apologies.

The world starts to black out until I can only hear my surroundings. Screams, pounding of feet, the thwacks of bow and arrows, the thud as they hit their target. Curses, Cries of agony and grief as loved ones are lost. I can only imagine what is happening, and it is enough to give me nightmares for the rest of my life. All because of Smith. I know he’s up there laughing at the blood, triumphant in my injury. Probably coming to finish me off now. 

But, for some reason, I am calm. Like none of it matters.


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## Ebonyisforme

Chapter 19:

I wake up in a dark place. So dark I can only see the shadow of someone above me. “I need more water.” The voice of Evelyne says to someone. She is hunching over me, with a hand on my shoulder. A figure stalks away and comes back a couple seconds later with water. 

She thanks him or her and dabs it on my shoulder gently. I cry out in pain. My throat is so dry it only makes a silent squeak. “Water.” I say with cracked lips. 

“Ellin, she’s awake! We need drinking water!” She calls to the dark figure. Seconds later, cool water trickles down my throat. She only lets me have a little at a time until I am fully hydrated. She rubs something cool and soothing on my lips.

Evelyn sings a soft, mournful song as I black out again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wake to a slightly brighter environment. I can barely make out the features on Evelyn’s face. “Shhh…it’s okay, Nikki, it will be morning soon and then you can see.” She dabs something on my shoulder and covers it in something cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I wake this time, it is bright enough I can see. I am in a cave. A real, actual cave. Cobwebs, spiders, bugs, possibly a bat or two, the whole deal. Evelyn and who I presume is Ellin are talking in the corner.

I discover the shadowy figure (Ellin) is in fact, a boy. A handsome, tall boy. The kind I would have a major crush for back home. Too bad this isn’t home. “Where am I? What’s going on?” I ask to no one in particular.

“Oh! She’s awake!” Evelyn runs to me and kneels at my side. She gently brushes my bangs out of my face. “Ellin helped me get you out of the palace. You are in a cave in the countryside. No one will find you here. My dad, I mean, Smith took the castle.”

Ellin walks over and puts a gentle hand on Evelyn’s shoulder. Which reminds me of mine. I look over to it and am somewhat relieved that is is bandaged. That way, I won’t have to see it and flip. I concentrate on Ellin’s brown leather boots, studying them in a out-of-it way.

He half smiles at me, his brown eyes twinkling. “You are going to be okay now.” He promises in a voice that immediately puts me at ease. “We’ll take care of you.”


I nod my thanks. He grabs a hatchet and leaves, probably to get wood. “Who is he?” I ask Evelyn. 

“Silly me! I guess I forgot you aren’t from here. He’s my brother, the Prince. He was banished by my father because he wouldn’t go along with his ‘plans’ for me and the throne. I know we look nothing alike, he got the looks of my mother.” She explains.

Ellin returns with an armload of wood. I look at him, trying to imagine what their mother must have looked like. Black, messy hair, dimples when he grins, and olive skin, almost white, but not quite. He sees me staring and winks with a smile.

How could someone be so happy at a time like this? I start to have a deep appreciation for him. After all, if it weren’t for him, I might be dead. Whatever Evelyn put on my shoulder is starting to wear off and I start to feel the sting. I wince and groan, putting a hand on it, as if that will take away the pain.

Evelyn notices and promptly unwraps the bandages to put more herbs on it. I look down and scream. My shoulder is mutilated. Skin hangs from the oddest places, dried blood coats it, painting it scarlet. Cuts and scrapes adorn it like some creepy horror movie. Closing my eyes quickly, I try to dismiss what I just saw as Evelyn puts herbs on it, cleans it again, and rewraps it.

Ellin turns at my scream, poised to attack whatever caused the outburst. When he sees the reason for the scream, he shyly smiles and turns away to stack the firewood, his muscles rippling as he does so.

I fall under the sleepy spell of unconsciousness again.


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## Ebonyisforme

Well, that's the rest of what I have! Hope you enjoy!


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## Ebonyisforme

Chapter 20

After sleeping for who knows how long, I finally force my eyes open. “How long did I sleep that time?” I ask Evelyn in a small voice, almost scared of the answer. 

She sighs, “Today is the 31st of January.” Slowly moving away, she pats my shoulder and goes to get something from a kettle on a makeshift spit over the blazing fire. I couldn’t have been sleeping for 2 days, no way! Then, a shoot of pain bursts through my upper body and I remember. With a groan, I twist my neck to look at the damage still there. Unfortunately, it is bandaged, so I can’t see just how bad it is.

Ellin comes over. I had forgotten about him! “I need to change your bandage.” He tells me not-so-confidently. It’s okay, though, after a couple years volunteering at the ER, you know the importance of clean bandages!

He crouches down and starts to unwrap the cloth, starting from the top and slowly working his way down. His finger grazes my shoulder and I wince, then close my eyes, embarrassed that something so simple hurt so badly. He looks me in the eyes and apologizes so sweetly I want to cry.

Why do the middle ages get the good guys? Sure, some of them have teeth falling out of their mouth at age 15, but they are so cute! Which brings me back to Chase, but for some reason, I really don’t care anymore. Sure, they betrayed me, but honestly, I have much bigger things on my mind!

Ellin finishes unwrapping the bandage and stands up to look for the new one. I look down cautiously, scared at what I will find. My shoulder is literally red, not the red you get from a sunburn. Red. Flakes of skin hang off my entire shoulder and soft, tender, raw skin peeks from beneath the loose layer. I’m thankful it’s not bloody, they must have cleaned me up real well while I was asleep!

I groggily call Evelyn over. She ducks her head and hurries to my side, not acting at all like the Queen she is supposed to be. “When are we going back?” I ask. Her face pales and drains of all color. 

“Well, uh...Nikki, to be honest, um...I don’t think that uh it’s the best idea for us to go back.” Evelyn nervously scratches the side of her ear, looking down at the dirt floor.

Struggling to sit up, I exclaim in disgust, “What? You want to just let him have your kingdom?” I can’t believe she would give up that easily!

“Well,” she shrugs, “It is kind of his. After all, he is my father.” She looks at me sorrowfully and waits for my reply. I let out a huge gust of air and think as calmly as I can about what I should say to convince her to go back.

“Evelyn. I haven’t been here very long but from the time I have been around you, your dad, the kingdom, and the people in it, I know that isn’t true. If you let him have it, the horrible things will continue. In this kingdom, the right to the throne passes through the daughters. It is rightfully yours and only yours. It could never actually be his. What would happen after he dies? He has no daughters other than you. It could be given to anyone and your line would end here and now. Is that really what you want?” 

She stops fiddling and looks straight into my eyes. “I want to feel safe. I want to feel loved. And most of all, I want to feel like I can go somewhere, do something, talk to someone, and not be hated, persecuted, and threatened. I will never get that as long as I am sitting on the throne.”

I can’t believe the damage this poor girl’s father has done to her. “Yes, you will, Evelyn. I am staying here until you do. Even if you don’t come with me, I am going back, and I am going to save you.” Tears spring to her eyes and she blinks them back, shaking her head.

Standing up, she mutters, “I’m going to fix something to eat. You want some?” I nod my thanks and she leaves, just like that.

That night, I lie in my blankets, shivering in the cold. I’m in deep thoughts when quiet voices break me out of my reverie. I shift to see where they are coming from and see Ellin and Evelyn at the opening of the cave, her face buried in his shirt and his arm around her, chin on her head, whispering comfort to her.

I struggle to hear what they are saying and finally am able to make out a few words. “It’s just, I never wanted to be Queen and my dad never wanted me to be. I’m such a failure. I’m terrified. I never want to see his face again!” Evelyn cries. 

“Evelyn, it’s okay. I’m going to be here for you, no matter what. I promise you. I won’t let him touch you. It’s going to be okay.” Ellin whispers into her hair. They just stand there, not talking, just embracing each other and giving comfort. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, Evelyn breaks away and thanks him, wiping away tears, before crawling into her bed. Ellin stands at the opening, looking up into the sky as I fall asleep.


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## Red Gate Farm

I've read through it. I'm wondering who your target audience is for this book?

I agree with Roman that you could use more descriptive parts in there. When you're telling a story, you want your reader to SEE the people and the surroundings.

Research the middle ages a bit before you write about them. Find out what "herbs" they used to heal with so you can name them. I'm wondering why the girl's shoulder had a dagger wound and a blunt force wound, but you describe it as if it were burned? Or maybe I missed a part where it burned?


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## Ebonyisforme

Thank you, Red Gate Farm! I hadn't realized I did that! I will fix it!


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## Bright

Love the story, would love to see you put more up. Overall a good story line, just needs more description.


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## Ebonyisforme

Yeah, I will definitely keep adding parts. Sorry, it takes me a long time to finish a chapter..I will try to be more descriptive and I am constantly going back and revising things. I am taking a writing course from a famous author that is really helping me. Eventually, I would love to get it good enough to be published...eventually...  Thanks for reading!


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## faiza425

I'm really enjoying this


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## Ebonyisforme

I thought that it would be easier to start a whole new story rather than going back and trying to be more descriptive throughout the whole thing. I will be putting up some of the new story sometime soon. It will be in another thread, though!


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## Roman

No, please continue this one! You don't have to be super descriptive unless you plan to publish it.
_Posted via Mobile Device_


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## faiza425

Ebonyisforme said:


> I thought that it would be easier to start a whole new story rather than going back and trying to be more descriptive throughout the whole thing. I will be putting up some of the new story sometime soon. It will be in another thread, though!


The same story with more description, or a different story?


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## Ebonyisforme

Different story. I would love to get published eventually. I was talking to my favorite author and she gave me lots of advice. Practically gave me lessons and I learned a lot. It really made that story look pathetic, so I wanted to start over from scratch. I guess I could do this one on the side but probably wouldn't post it very often...


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## Bright

I do think you could do something with this story, but i love the new one as well.


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## faiza425

Ebonyisforme said:


> Different story. I would love to get published eventually. I was talking to my favorite author and she gave me lots of advice. Practically gave me lessons and I learned a lot. It really made that story look pathetic, so I wanted to start over from scratch. I guess I could do this one on the side but probably wouldn't post it very often...


It doesn't seem pathetic to me. Sure it could use some editing - almost every story can! - but the core storyline I find very interesting. I'd love it if you'd consider revising this one.


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