Labeled (A The Selection Fanfiction)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Three days until I'm back in the palace.

Funny, huh?  The last time I was here I was counting the days I have left, the days of happiness until the unknown.

Now I'm counting the days of silent torture that will soon cease.  I will be back at the Palace, where, believe it or not, I feel the safest.

Safe.  I never thought I would use that word to describe the palace.

So far no one has said or done anything on purpose.

On purpose.

By accident, every person has sent some signal, some look, some whisper, my way.

Oh, and my loving mother hasn't decided to call yet.

What else? You wonder.

I can't stop thinking about Eleanor.  When is she going to drop out of the Selection?  How will she stay with the guard?  Who is the guard? 

I can't stop thinking about how it must be to be a royal.  All of my worries must seem minuscule compared to theirs.

But most of all, I can't stop thinking about Alexander.  Prince Alexander. He just, I sigh, I don't even know anymore.

I am so stressed it's impossible.  Yesterday I had all my classes, starting with French, Math, Science, History, and ending with Sarrione.  You don't know what a torture that was.

On the way back to my room, alone in the elevator I cried.  I finally had a reason to let it go.

In my room I sobbed.

Going to sleep I had a sobbing fit.

And today, I'm staying in sick.

--

I walk out, ready to get lunch.

I don't want to appear broken, so I have to show my face.  Although, how I show it isn't specified.  So I put on a ton of makeup, and wear what people consider to be the "popular's" clothes.

Don't people think this makes me look confident?

--

Walking into the dining hall, gasps and eruptions of whispers attack my ears.

Look, they say, Clarissa's back outside.  What is she doing here, they ask menacingly.  I thought she went back to the Palace and her little Prince, they sneer.

But I try to ignore them.  I'm Clarissa Dossen, right?  There's some power in my name.

--

Practically running back to my room, I can't take it anymore.  Why do they say those things?

Are they trying to make me feel small and meaningless?

--

Three days later:

Finally.  I'm getting on the plane, and I get to leave this place.  Leave everything that hurts me, everything that once was, behind.

Leave it in the dust of all the mistakes I've made.  I don't want to make anymore mistakes.

Now, I know what your going to say. 

You're not even going to give Beth another chance?

And, confidently, I can answer no.  I will not, because I gave her a chance every time I went down during lunch, sat next to her in classes, tried to make small talk.

Every time she brushed me off with a fake smile and daggers in her eyes.

The daggers that have blinded her.  Blinded her from seeing who had been there for her the whole time she adjusted to Fraussen, who missed her terribly when she was away.

She makes me feel like I'm a dirty piece of trash that she littered.  She just hasn't paid the fee for littering yet.

But, when I'm at the Palace, around my true friends, my maids, and - my heart throbs just thinking this - Alexander, I feel like a diamond on a necklace of talented people.  I feel like I am so lucky to fit into their world.

Because out here, they tell me I'm the lucky one.  The thing is, it's so confusing.  When I don't feel lucky, and people envy me.  What if I envy them?  A simple life, full of work to keep your mind off of things that bother you.

To me, that sounds more appealing than any option that's ever been given to me.

Except for one.  Princess, and maybe even Queen.

Could that be me?

--

The ride to the Palace felt like it took forever, but I'm finally here.

I squeal in the back seat, thankful for the privacy from the chauffeur.

I mean, he wouldn't think I was too crazy, right?

I have all my letters to Alexander wrapped up and tied with a yellow bow on top.  To me, yellow represents hope.

And I hope that we can work out whatever problems are between us.

The car stops, and I bounce my legs up and down, anxious to get out.  The second the chauffeur opens the door, I run out, startling him.

"Thanks!"  I call over my shoulder, walking quickly for the fear that Jacqueline would see me running.

I practically jump up the steps, the large doors looming ahead of me.

Finally, I think, back in a place where I belong.

Just three months ago I was walking slowly up these steps with dread, now I'm walking in as if I'm coming back home from a long trip.

And that's what it feels like, too.

Like a part of me has been missing, but it was here all along.

--

Sorry for the short update!  I'm really busy so it's taking longer to write.... Thank you for reading, and I would really appreciate it if you voted!  It doesn't take a lot of time but means a lot to me!  I haven't edited, so feel free to point out any typos