Pricked

20

Aurora pov

'It's hard to be happy for someone when they are getting everything you ever wanted, but better. I was just happy to loan a horse for the day. He bought you a heard of horses and cattle alike. I wanted to speak one sentence without you interrupting or wandering off. But you never cared what I said or how you treated me.

I don't want marriage, I'm not sure you do either, but marrying another royal doesn't sound like a punishment to me. So when you complain of gorgeous boys complimenting you, I don't know why you expected me to sympathize.

I paid for my things and worked hard. You were given everything and sat on your rump, high up in your castle. You think you are untouchable, but no one can take away the life I made myself. Sad as it is, it is mine. You have the risk of everything being taken right from under you.

Because you earned nothing, yet you are living the dream. I don't want your horses, or the boys and I don't want your money or the sympathy you get for whatever you cried about this time. That least of all, sympathy. I don't care for your sympathy but I would have liked to talk, to discuss with you, to just answer me within a timely manor! You are the freaking princes and you can't respond to your supposed best friend?

I don't envy you, but I am jealous that you got everything you (and I, but not that I ever mattered) ever wanted and I was the good friend that said yay for you. But when I need something, anything, even just to respond, for you to be there... You just disappear until it's useful to you. Until you can rub something new in my face. Sometimes I hate you for being so conceded and selfish. Other times it reminds me that I'm alone in this world and I can really only count on myself.'

"Aurora, what are you reading?"

"Nothing father," I crumple up the letter and hold it over the candle watching it burn away the words, the hate, and the pain.

"Are you ready for your party honey?" Father comes nearer and looks at the burning note, shedding ashes along the once pristine white desk. "Want to explain that?" He asks pulling the candle away from me and blowing it out with a puff.

"No, no Father. I really do not wish to discuss it any further." I want to run away, to hide where no one can find me.

"We haven't discussed anything yet, Aurora." He counters and brings a hand to my bare shoulder. His hands are cold on my skin, but his kindness and warmth fills me.

"Oh Father," I cry out and hug him so tightly I think he might pop out of his suit.

"My dear girl," he says holding me close, "what was that you were reading, please let me help."

"No Father, you told me I was a big girl now." I pull away and look at him as I wipe my fallen tears. "I am 16 tonight and I can handle this without you." I sniffle up another tear threatening to come down.

"Are you sure my darling?" He keeps his hands on my shoulders, I nod. "Okay then, I will let you continue to get ready." I hug him one last time and then pull out of his grasp. In my haste, I grab the remaining letter and march towards the wardrobe. My Father leaves quickly and quietly to get ready for the guests.

"She's not right." I mumble and hold the letter over a new flame. "She's wrong." I say aloud. "I have earned this. I have earned everything that... was given to me." Recollection clouds my judgment and my voice is no longer legible. Given to me I think, and force my brain to forget her and her cruel words.

But my concentration is so fixated on what she said that the flame burns too high, too hot and it caresses my skin. The fire searing the tip of my thumb and pointer finger, but I don't pull away. It doesn't hurt, so I leave my hand at the flame and watch as the flame sears deeper in my skin. It hurts badly now, but I try not to move, flinching as the flame grows hotter on my skin.