Forbidden [1]

Four

She awoke to the sound of tapping at her window.

She leapt out of the bed and bounded over to the window, looking out.

It was still light out. It wasn't him.

Some kids were throwing snowballs at her window. It wasn't Blaise. She sighed and turned to look at the clock.

"It's four... eight hours left," she thought, sighing again. Of course those stupid kids had to get her hopes up.

She walked over to her dresser and opened a drawer, looking inside. Inside the drawer was a black notebook with blue decals on the cover.

She picked it up, tracing the decals lightly with her fingertips. She walked back to the bed, grabbing a pen from the nightstand on the way.

She plopped down on the bed, opening the notebook and uncapping the pen. She began to write.

Blaise came last night, I think it's been close to a week since he last came, she wrote, I'm not sure how long it's been since I've left this room. I've never had a chance to, since the door is always locked. Sebastian came today too, unfortunately. He still can't seem to understand why I won't like him. After what he did, I can't believe he expects me to like him. Of course I guess it's my father who engaged me to him anyway...

Her writing was interrupted by the sound of the door unlocking. She slammed the book shut and slid it under the bed. She looked up in time to see the door open.

A guard stood there, holding a plate of food. "I've got your dinner, miss."

"Right, thanks," she said as she stood up and walked over to him.

She took the plate from him and looked at the food. There was spaghetti and a piece of garlic bread, and surprisingly they didn't look half-bad.

"Need anything else?" The guard asked.

"No that'll be all, thanks," she said, practically ignoring him.

"Right," he said, going back to the door, "goodbye."

"Bye."

He walked out of the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

Angelica sighed and trudged back to the bed, sitting down and setting the plate on her lap. She took a bite of spaghetti, only to discover it was freezing cold.

"Of course," she mumbled, taking another bite. She looked up at the clock again, counting the hours.

"It's four thirty..." she said to herself, "Seven hours and thirty minutes left..."

She sighed again, frustrated. "Maybe he'll come at 10 ish..." she thought, "Then it would be five hours and thirty minutes."

She ate about half of the cold spaghetti, then threw the rest of her food in the trash bin, deciding she wasn't hungry.

She sat back down on the bed, wondering what to do with her seven hours and thirty minutes, before she remembered the notebook under the bed. She lowered herself to the floor and fished it out, stirring up some dust that had accumulated under the bed.

She sat back up on the bed and uncapped the pen again. She opened the notebook to a new page and started to draw.

After a while of drawing, she ended up with the finished drawing on the page.

The drawing was a picture of Blaise when she had first met him. His hair was dyed black instead of the blonde that it is now is the only real difference. She smiled to herself, remembering when she'd convinced him to leave it blonde. She knew he only did it for her, so it seemed special.

Her thoughts were interrupted yet again by the door unlocking.

She closed the book, wondering who it could possibly be.

"I've had my two meals and Sebastian came..." she thought.

The door opened to reveal a guard standing there, in a slightly different uniform than the guards she'd seen before.

"I'm here to look at the window," he said, seeing her obvious confusion.

"Oh alright," she said, looking over at the window. She was surprised that they had actually got someone to look at it. They didn't keep any of their other promises.

The guard walked over to the window, his thick shoes making loud thunks on the floor. He opened the window and examined the latch. "Doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it," he said, still examining it.

She shrugged, looking over at him. "I must not have closed it all the way then, it opened last night."

"That must be it," he agreed, turning and looking at her, "sorry to disturb you, miss."

"No no, you're fine," she said, awkwardly rubbing the cover of her notebook. Being locked in a room for at least two weeks must deprive you of social skills, she thought.

"Goodbye then, miss," the guard said as he walked out, locking the door behind him.

"Goodbye..." she said quietly, almost to herself. She turned and looked toward the clock, wondering how much longer she had to wait.

Seven hours and twenty five minutes. "So much time," she mumbled to herself. She laid down on the bed, draping her arm over the edge and setting the notebook and pen underneath.

After a while, she fell asleep again.