His blood on my hands

Belle one

I sit inside the dorm, talking to Jamia. She is such an amazing person. She's my best friend. I've only known her for 2 years but it feels like a lifetime.

I got to this school my freshman year, and now I'm a senior. We met sophomore year. My family's not direct royalty but we are close relatives of the rulers of France. My parents (who live in Bourges) sent me here because... they wanted me gone as soon as possible. I'm not quite sure why they dislike me so much, I've never done much wrong. But they do. Anyways, I'm not all bitter. If I never came I would have never met Jamia. Or Kendra.

"That Kendra. What an interesting character." She says.

I don't think she likes Kendra too much, but I like Kendra.

I finish up my homework and Jamia reads a book. I love the way her eyes move when she reads. Slowly to one side, then back to the other.

After a bit, she shows up.

"Ken!" I say, giving her a little extra excitement. She might need it.

She talks to her father, then heads to sleep. It's quite early, only 7:45. Me and Jamia talk. We talk for hours. She always seems so bitter, so uninterested when she talks to other people. But to me, she stares at me so intently and listens to every word I say. And when she speaks it sounds like warm honey. We talk about stars and how much she loves stars. How they are so much bigger than us, how we couldn't begin to imagine the scale of the universe. She's fascinated by astrology.

We talk until midnight, then I head to my bed which is across the room. Jamia's bed has the lamp next to it, and she waits until I'm under the covers to turn the light off.

I dream about stars and the word infinity.