The Knife's Case

The Moving Trees

The prince thinks for a moment, but instead of looking like he is answering a question game, he looks as if he is answering a personal question. I feel I have underestimated Prince Koran this far. "A man cannot control what you think. For how can he know what you think? I understand what you say about eventually saying, but what if speaking is not so bad? Also no one should put a price on their words, words should be free. Our words are what make us free, if we physically cannot be."

I am stunned, and still. I have been silenced. I have nothing left to say.

"I have not merely won the discussion, yet made your questions complete. Ask, and I will answer you as best as I can, my princess." He remarks. His voice and eyes genuine.

I look at him, and remember the face from my dreams. I cannot kill such a kind person. I want to ask him. How do you kill someone you know is innocent? Even though I can think he is innocent all I want, I cannot undo what my evil actions will be. Can I?

I feel faint. The dress I am wearing I tied rather tight, perhaps because I am punishing myself for my evil. I remember his frightened face, and a rush of hopelessness hits me and knocks me down. I lay on the soft green grass, and open my eyes, looking at the branches of the trees above me, bowing down before me as if knowing who I will be. Though, I barely know who I want to be anymore. Who am I?

I open my eyes, just like I know I did when I saw the world for the first time as a baby. It looked so much bigger than it does now. Now the world is not so fascinating. When I was little I wanted to live forever. Today I do not even want to live. I have nothing to live for. I am going to close my eyes, hopefully forever; I will let my father finish this job. I cannot do it.

"Ingrid! You are alive, Ingrid please wake up. You cannot die now!" I can see the prince's face; it is like in my dream. I delay closing my eyes, to see what he will do. What he will say, for he always knows what to say, just like my mother. "Ingrid, listen to me. I have never met your mother, but out of what you have told me of her, I know she would want you to live, if she were here right now. Don't you agree?"

"Yes." I sat up. I am in a huge new room, and the bed is as soft as rose pedals, and moss. I stand up. "Where am I?"

"You are in one of the rooms of the palace. How do you feel?"

"Whose robe's are these?" I ask.

"They are yours now. We have extra clothes for unexpected guests."

"Well, I am sorry to inconvenience you."

"No, please, it is no trouble, this will be your home, soon. You can leave though, if you would like, after, after I change some rules and get everything organized. You know.

"No, no I will sta..." My words trailed off, I was willing to say yes without hesitation. Why? Do I want to stay with him? If that is so, how can I kill him? I have to go. "I, I have to go." I walk out the door. I walk through the castle without hesitation; I begin to run, faster and faster, as if I am afraid the gates of the castle will close and never let me out, just like they do not let the prince out.

I make it to the gate, it is opened and I run out. I run faster and faster. Tears run down my face. I am afraid of what I feel. For if what I feel is real than I am already dead. I am dead to my father, to myself and to him. Why do I fear death, I have been planning it since I was 11. I should be used to the idea.

I get to the house. I do not go in through the door. I climb up the vines on my wall, open my window, and climb into my room. I look out of the window; I realize I left my journal in the garden. I gasp; I panic for a moment, and then calm down. I dropped it among the rose bushes, which have thorns on them. No one will find it.