Blue Blood ~ Young Royals

Lie

We'll bring Simon back to his family for now, but one mistake you make and he's going right back to his cell.

The words echo in my head, a constant reminder to obey orders, to do as I'm told. As long as I do what people tell me to, Simon will be safe at home and I'll be out of here. I'll go see him, I don't care if people tell me not to.

A few days pass by, and I'm getting better. I feel my strength returning, the ability to speak is as easy as it always has been. I could get up and strangle the nurse who is disgusted by Simon if I wanted to, but of course I don't. Then Simon will go back to his cell. So I just do whatever people tell me to, hiding my desperation to be released beneath a calm face.

After threatening to bash my head against the bedframe if Simon wasn't brought home, my mind was able to fill with different worries, like wondering where all my stuff is. I was told I'd get my things back once I got discharged from the hospital, and it seems fine by me. It's not like I need my phone when I'm asleep almost all the time.

By now I'm feeling almost normal, still more tired and weak than I usually would, but quite good. When the nurse brought me breakfast, she told me I would be free to go today.  It spreads a comforting warmth through me, and I think this must be the first time I've been truly happy since I woke up in the hospital. I'll go to Simon, we'll make everyone understand, and we'll both be free.

When the nurse finally does return to let me go and return my belongings, I expect my parents to be waiting somehwere. But we walk out of my hospital room and to the front desk, only to find them nowhere in sight. There's only Malin, sipping her coffee and sitting next to an ashen-faced man, muttering to himself. She notices me and stands up, thanking the nurse and waving her arm for me to come with her. "Aren't my parents here to pick me up?"

She shakes her head. "They had an important meeting at the palace and couldn't make it, but I will assure them you are doing well."

She pushes the door open and the cold January air blows gently through my hair. It feels good to be outside, in my own clothes, my phone in my pocket. But there's also the anger and disappointment at my parents. Didn't they care enough to check if I'm feeling better? They haven't even visited since the time I threatened them.

I shake my head as I step into the car, attempting to shake the frustrated thoughts and instead focus on what's to come. Simon. Right as Malin steps into the passenger seat and the driver starts the car, I clear my throat. "Can you bring me to the Eriksson's house first?"

"Wilhelm-" Malin begins, but I cut her off.

"I need to see Simon."

She sighs and gives the driver a small nod, who begins to drive slowly out of the parking lot and away. I look out of the window, watching the snowy landscape. I think of Simon at the bus stop, the white flakes clinging to his eyelashes, that radiant smile filling my heart with warmth. I can't wait to see him again.

A little while later, we're driving into Bjärstad. I can't help the little leap my heart does, both excited and nervous to see Simon again. What if his mother and Sara are there? What do they think of this situation? I haven't even bothered to think about it yet.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts when the car stops in front of Simon's house and Malin steps out, opening my door for me. I get out of the car, the snow crunching beneath my shoes. Malin walks me to the door and I knock, waiting. My heart is pounding nervously, imagining Simon opening the door and tossing himself into my arms. But it's not Simon who twists the lock and opens the door. Standing there in the doorframe, looking worn-out and exhausted, is Sara. She glares at me, not uttering a word of hello, but she steps aside to let me in. Malin stays outside and she closes the door behind me.

Without thinking about how tired and irritated Sara looks, I dash to Simon's room, eager to see him. But he's not there. His bed is tidy, looking like no one has touched it in days. The fish swim miserable through a dirty tank, the curtains are closed. It seems almost eerie, like it's haunted. I turn around and walk to the kitchen, trying to ignore the unseay feeling stirring in the pit of my stomach. Sara and Linda stand together in the small kitchen, whispering to each other. I clear my throat. "Um, Simon? Where's Simon?"

I realize how awful Linda looks, even worse than Sara. Her hair is messy, bags under her eyes, a distressed sort of expression on her face. Something's not right.

When neither of them reply, I say again, "Where's Sim-"

But Sara interrupts me suddenly, snapping angrily. "He's not here, you idiot! They've got him locked up at the police station and they won't let us talk to him!" She starts walking closer to me, tears of fury filling her eyes. "They're calling him a monster, they're threatening to kill him because they think the world is better off without him! And it's your fault!" She shrieks, jabbing a finger harshly into my ribcage. "Your fault, your fault, your fault..." She repeats, over and over again, her voice growing weaker until she collapses at my feet, crying into her hands. Linda glares at me and pulls her daughter to her feet, holding her and petting her hair soothingly.

It's like a punch to the gut. The air feels like it's been knocked out of me, and a feeling of dread and horror fills me. My mother lied, she never released Simon. She lied, she lied, she lied. Simon's still there, in a cell, with god knows what happening to him. I feel angry enough to kill someone.

Without thinking, I storm out of the house, barely noticing my fatigue. I turn to Malin, furious. "Free Simon." I say in a dangerously low tone. She shows no sign of alarm and completely ignores my words. The fury burns inside like white-hot flames, and I scream. "Free him!" She startles only slightly. "GET HIM OUT OF HIS GODDAMN CELL, LET HIM GO, LET HIM GO! SHE LIED TO ME. LIED. LET HIM G-"

"Stop it!" She shouts, interrupting me. I've never seen her look out of her comfort zone, like she's afraid and wants to slip away. "Stop." She says again, calmer. "Wilhelm, I am not the one making decisions here. I can't decide what happens to Simon, your parents do. You can talk to them. Not shout, talk. I-"

"Then take me to my parents right now. To the palace. I don't care if they're in a meeting. Get me there now." I demand. I've never been so angry in my life.

She nods calmly. "Get back in the car. We'll go to the palace."

I get into the back of the car, slamming the door far harder than necessary in my furious state. I want to scream at my parents until they're cowering, begging me to calm down. Until they free Simon.