Run Away From The Pain

Birthday Blues.

"Anastasia, darling.." My mother's soft voice cooed to me, as my golden eyes fluttered open, filtering in the streams of light, highlighting the dust particles floating around my bedroom. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Uhh.... Wednesday?" I asked, groggily rubbing my tired eyes. 

"Well... No, It's Friday, February 14th..." My father smirked smirked. "It's Valentines Day! And, It's your birthday! You're 21, Ace! You're finally legal!"

"Yeah, in America..." I groaned "This is Samarinia... the drinking age is 18, and I've had a glass of wine, or beer every night with dinner since I've been here.... it's not that special."

"Can't you just be happy about your birthday?" Isabella scoffed. "It's a special day!"

"No... it's not." I pulled the thick comforter over my face, and mumbled into the pillow. "It's just like any other fucking day.... and Valentines Day? Get real."

"Honey, please just get up... We've got a present for you!" My mother pleaded, and pulled the covers off, so I was lying in just my shorts, and a t-shirt, as a gust of chilly wind tickled my bare legs.

"The Princess needs her beauty rest." I groaned, and flipped a pillow over my face, blocking the light, and sound. 

"OH MY FUCKING GOD STOP OKAY OKAY I'M UP! STOP IT!" I screeched as my mother and father both attacked me, tickling me to death. 

I jumped out of bed, just to please them. 

"Good, now that you're up, go in your closet..." My mother smiled, and watched me turn warily towards the french doors to my right. 
I rested my hand on the golden knob for a moment, before I turned it, and swung the large doors open. 
Directly in the center of my grandiose closet, was a couch, and on that couch, rested my favorite pair of tight jeans, folded neatly on top of a large white box. 

I turned around and looked at my parents. 
"Go on, Ace.." My dad smiled, and shoo-ed his hand, edging me on. 

I stepped into the closet, and made my way towards the box. 
I lifted the jeans, and set them on the couch next to the box, then I slowly lifted the lid off of the box, and gasped at what was inside. 
There was a gorgeous pair of brown leather western riding boots, embellished with brown stitching, and a golden tip at the toe, and heel of the boot. 

"They're stunning," I gasped. "Thank you!" 

"Okay, now put on the jeans, and the boots, and then meet us down in the garden in 10 minutes." My father grinned, and took his wife's hand, leading her out of the room, and closing the door behind him. 

I did as I was told, and quickly put the jeans and boots on.
I tore off my large t-shirt, and replaced it with a sheer button-up I stole from Steven about a month ago. 
It still smelled like him... which made me cringe with sadness.
I shook off the pain, and then sprinted to the other side of my room, and into the bathroom. 
I brushed my teeth, quickly, and applied a small amount of mascara, and deoderant.
Realizing the time, I sprinted out of the room, while swiftly completeing a side-braid with my long brown hair. 

Somehow, I made it down to the garden with a minute to spare.
"Well that was quick." Isabella chuckled, and sat up from the garden chair she was sitting in, and circled her arm through my left arm, and my father linked his arm through my right.
We began to walk the cobblestone path that cut through the large garden, which lead down to the pool, and even further down, the stables.
"Where are we going?" I asked, wary about the face that it was probably like, 6:30 in the morning..

"So, I've noticed how much time you've spent in the stables," She smiled at me, sympathetically. "And, I couldn't help but to wonder why? Does it have anything to do with Steven?" 

"No." I groaned. "Can we please not bring him up? I'd really rather not deal with the black hole in my soul, today.."

"Okay, fine." She held her hand up, surrendering. 
We made our way past the pool, and the stables were now in sight, just a few yards away from us. 

"So... why are we here?" I asked again, as we neared the door.

"Close your eyes, darling." My father grinned.

"Not this again..." I moaned, and shut my eyes. His hand grasped mine, leading me into the stable door. 
His hands covered my eyes, as he stood behind me.

"Happy birthday honey!" They both called out, as they removed their hands from my face.
I opened my eyes to see a gorgeous black Arabian stallion fully tacked, and waiting for me. 

"No... fucking....way.." I managed to choke out. "You got me a horse?!" 

"Yes." My mother smiled. 
"Everyone in the family has their own, so we figured you should too." Andrew grinned wildly.

I ran my hand along the smooth black coat of the stunning Arabian standing before me. 
He was rather large, standing at 16 hands.
His black coat shined like Obsidian against the moon.
His eyes were as black as coal, and they were just as piercing as mine were. 
This horse and I are so much alike, I can feel it;
He has an old soul, and he's got a past, like mine, I could tell. 

"What's his name?" I asked, never taking my gaze off the animal.

"That's for you to decide.." My father chuckled. 
I paused and thought for a few moments before I spoke.

"Spades.." I chuckled, and turned to face my parents. "Like Ace of Spades... Get it? I'm Ace, and he'll be Spades!" 

"Genius!" Andrew howeled with laughter.

"Well... Go on! Try him out!" My mother gushed.
I stepped over to the side of the creature, and placed my left foot in the stirrup.
I looked back over to Spades' head, which was now turned to the side, so he could check me out, no doubt.

When dealing with animals as majestic as horses, you can't simply, just hop on and ride one.
It's like forming a relationship; you need to earn it's trust. Without trust, nothing will work. You and your horse will constantly be butting heads. You'll never listen to his needs, and he'll never listen to your orders.
Trust is a necessity. 
Miraculously, I've managed to gain his trust in a matter of minutes.

I lifted myself up, and swung my right leg over, so my butt was now planted firmly in the saddle. 
I felt so tall, so regal.

My parents opened the large stable door, and I instantly spurred Spades on.
He broke out into a gallop, and sprinted out the doors.
I knew this horse and I were meant for each other.
Just like me, he had this insatiable thirst for freedom.

We galloped all around the palace grounds for what seemed like hours, reaching every perimiter possible; jumping over logs, and even going down to the river that flowed through the upper lefthand corner of the property. 

Finally, I reigned Spades in, and brought him back to the stable.
I put him in his stall, untacked him, brushed, and fed him. 
I gave him a kiss on the nose, and bid him adieu. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Anastasia! How good to see you! The last time I saw you was when you were *this* big!"
"Oh mon dieu! So grown up!" 
"Dah-ling, I can't bee-live you're awl-ready twenty uh-one." 

I walked around the grand ballroom, in a dress that I hated, filled with people I've never seen before in my life. 
My parents decided to throw me a party, and invited over all of my... well.... their friends, and family.
I've spent the past 2 hours, making small conversation I didn't want to make, and dancing to stupid songs I didn't want to dance too.. 

The entire time, my mind kept flicking back to that god forsaken tour bus.
I wonder what I'd be doing right now if I was still in the U.S with Steven..
We'd probably be celebrating by doing lines off of some strippers back in a club, listening to some raunchy band, and getting completely hammered off of Jack and Coke. 
That was my idea of the perfect birthday party... not this "gala" as my mother called it. 

They were playing shit like Pachabelle, and Mozart, and a bunch of classical music... Did I want to listen to this?
No.. I would much rather prefer it if The Stones, or The Doors, or even Aerosmith showed up... but no... 
I get stuck with some guy that's been dead for 300 years. 

"I thought you said you liked rock-n'-roll?" I whispered into my fathers ear, as we were forced to dance to some waltz I didn't even know the steps too. "What the fuck kind of music is this? Where are the Stones? Jimi Hendrix? The Beatles?"

"There's no persuading your mother when it comes to planning gala's.." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Her say is the only say."

"Wonderful." I muttered.
A very familiar looking, dark haired man, dressed in a dapper tuxedo, and the familial crest adorned on his breast pocket, tapped on my fathers shoulder, breaking apart our dance.
He took me in his arms, and lead the steps to his stupid dance.

"Happy Birthday, Ace!"
I couldn't quite tell who it was... the voice didn't ring any bells.
The look of confusion I tried so hard to hide, must've been prominent, because he laughed at my expression.

"What? I don't get any hug? I wanted to see my baby sister, after about 17 years of not seeing her.." The dark haired boy grinned wildly, as my expression changed rapidly. "Ace, I missed you so much." He grinned and pulled me into a hug. 
The boy was my brother, Nicholas.

A pang of memories flooded my brain, and I could see a little girl and a boy, who seemed older, sitting infront of a large christmas tree, playing with toys of all sorts. Another memory came back of a little girl and the same young boy playing out in a garden of lush green grass, and gorgeous fully bloomed flowers. 

"Nick!" I gasped, and jumped into his arms. He was so delighted that I remember him, he actually started to cry a bit. "Oh my god!"

The room was filled with "oohs" and "awes" at our little moment. 

"How have you been? How's America?" He asked, still grinning.

"It... uh..." I stuttered, trying not to actually show any expression of pain. "It was nice.." I lied.

"That's a lie.." He joked. "Once this dance stops, we can go hang out in the garden, and talk, if you want? No one ever goes out there when Mom throws these stupid things."

"Okay." I smiled, and just followed my brothers footsteps until the dance ended.
After another minute or two of the blind leading the blind, the music finally slowed, as everyone clapped and cheered for the orchestra.
Another tune quickly started up, filling the awkward silence the room was left with, at it's departure. 

"Come on! Let's go!" Nick smiled, and tugged on my arm, pulling me out of the ballroom. 
When we got out into the hall, he went to tug me out to the garden, but I stopped him.

"Wait! Why don't we just go up to my room? I want to change anyway, and no one is up past the bridge this late, besides me usually." I smiled a little. 

"Sure, fair enough." He chuckled, in the same weird, English/French accent that all native Samarinian's have. 

"You guys have such.... different.. accents." I giggled. 

"Different?" He questioned, as we reached the top of the steps, and began walking down the long hallway which lead to the bridge. 

"Yeah... it's like, a Frenchman tried to have an English accent, or an Englishman tried to have a French accent.. It's so... so.."

"Weird?" He laughed "We Samarinian's get that a lot..."

"It's pretty though.. I'm surprised Samarinian isn't considered a language of love. It's so beautiful." I sighed.

"Oh, it is." He giggled, holding the door to the bridge, open for me. "But no one ever talks about it, because Samarinia is such an unheard-of country."

"Thanks." I muttered. "And wow, really? Well, I mean I guess that's understandable, considering I've never heard of it until I found out who Isabella and Andrew were."

"Yeah... that tends to happen.. It's funny, because we are one of the richest countries in the world, so you would think that we'd be more well known." He held the second door of the bridge open for me, as well, which made me jog ahead to my bedroom door, so I could return the favor. "The last time we got any recognition was when you disappeared."

"Woah... That's crazy." I muttered. as we both entered my room. I walked over to the closet, and flicked the lights on inside of it, and shut the door behind me. "It's a gorgeous place though, so why isn't it some type of tourist destination?" I called through the door. 

I picked out a pair of black baggy sweats, and a white tank top.
"Well, we used to be the world's greatest tourist destination.." He called through the closed door. Becuase of the ruffling of this dress, and the thick wood, it was hard to hear him.

"What?!" I called back, while still struggling with the zipper on my dress. 

"We used to be #1!" He spoke a little louder.

"Why aren't we number one anymore?!" I was practically yelling over the ruffling of my dress. 
Finally, I got the zipper to work, and the dress slipped off with ease. 
I slipped on the sweats, and pulled the tank on over my head. 
I flicked my long brown curls up into a floppy bun, and put on my most comfortable pair of slippers, with the bunnies on the ends of them.

I opened the door, to find Nick sitting at my desk, playing with my record player. 
"As you were saying?" I said, plopping down on my bed. 

"Well, because there were so many attempts on your life, we had the S.A.F.E plant stories around the world, saying how Samarinia was a terrible destination, and that we were poverty stricken, and there were bugs, and feces, and malnourished children roaming the streets. Terrible things were spread, saying things like the only thing you'd leave with is a life threatening disease."

"Wait... what's the S.A.F.E? And how does that even work? People believe what they're told?" I was astonished. 

"Surprisingly yes, it worked. Our tourist population dropped by almost 90%." He smirked. "And the S.A.F.E is kinda like the Samarinian C.I.A, or the Royal Guard... It stands for Samarinian Armed Force Experts.. It's an elite group of people who have been training their whole lives to protect the royal family."

"Sooo..... You're telling me," I smirked, trying to stiffle my laughter. "That you paid a bunch of James Bond's to talk shit about your own country..." 

"Yeah," He laughed, "It sounds pretty ridiculous, huh?"

"Just a tad bit." I smiled.

I spent the rest of the evening bonding with my brother.
He's just like he was in all of my memories;
The fun, happy, kid. 
Of course, he was stately, and proper, and all around designed to be king, just like Andrew.

A part of me likes being a member in a royal family, but a part of it hates it at the same time.
I hate having all of this attention on me, and I most certainly hate not being able to be with Steven, and Joe and all the guys in the States.
Of course, that's my own fault, and my own decision, but this probably would've been much more enjoyable with them..