This is a shit plan.
I teeter on the edge of the balcony, my hair blowing into my face from the wind. It's cold and brisk, the marble pillars of the balcony like sharp ice against my hands. And yet, I'm grabbing on for dear life- ironically, all things considered.
I can see the blue sky in the horizon. I want to reach out and grab it, it feels so close. The rolling green fields of wildflowers and lakes that surround my pitifully dead kingdom are surreal, the trees like tufts of green, vibrant grass from this high. The clouds roll lazily by, big cotton balls of heavenly bliss. From up here, I don't have to look at my kingdom of tragedy. I could stay up here for a millennia, simply enjoying the beauty of all of the wonders that surround my sad excuse of a village. I just would never look down.
Down.
Oh, right. I almost forgot what I came up here to do...
Almost.
I don't want to, not really. the balcony is tall, too tall. It's dizzying, really. The sky is, quite frankly, too close. The clouds that once were comforting now seem taunting, directly confronting me.
Go ahead, jackass. I'd like to see you try.
I want a reason to stay, someone or something.
But not everyone gets what they want.
YOU ARE READING
Royally Screwed
FantasyPrince Jamiee has no future. With his mother dead from childbirth and his father mauled by a bear during a stroll, Jamiee is left alone to run the kingdom. This is the story of how he commits suicide.
