Paper Crowns

CHAPTER 1: THE ACADEMY

""Please!"

She twitched.

"Daddy! Mom!"

The heat of the smooth pillow case was making her forehead boil. She jerked again, unable to control muscular coordination, a puppet to the hurricane in her head.

"Let them go. Please."

She flinched. It was pain this time, gorging out of a wound like maroon, warm blood against pristine white snow. It was like a hook around her neck, a noose piercing through her pale skin. It was like she was dead and the voices were just memories.

"NO!"

Ashleena Evans suddenly jolted, gasping painfully as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. She heaved, desperately trying to regain her normal heart rate. The voices rang shrill in her ear, still sounding through with the same pitch. Sweat trickled down her back, beads of perspiration forming on her face. She lifted a hand up to wipe her damp forehead. It felt hot. Her eyes gradually adjust to the darkness in the room, blinking a few times before her pupils retracted to their original size, the only source of illumination being a faint streak of moonlight making its way through the half open window of her room. She pushed herself up on her hands into an upright position and sighed, leaning her head against the hardwood bed.

A loose breath escaped, hurting her scraped throat. Abstract shapes and smudged colours danced in front of her eyes. Momentarily, she forgot that she lay in bed as her head pounded with their voices. Her brain wanted to explode, just to get rid of the dominant voices that got louder and louder. She realized that she was gripping tight, unconsciously, onto either side as if it were her lifeline. Pain swelled in her throat thickly as she swallowed. But her face was dry. There were no tears. Her eyes were frozen.

The nightmare had descended like grey clouds on the blue skies before a storm, vividly real and haunting as ever. She ached for peaceful sleep, trying her best to shut away the images. In the morning, she woke up looking like a pitiful zombie walking alive.

The disturbing memories had left scars so deep, she wondered if they would ever seal. Because every time she tried to push them behind, the scars would rip open spilling out their contents. Pain. She couldn't get rid of it when it would attack her, gripping her hard like a magnet and hitting her where it knew she would stumble. Fear. Vulnerability.

To her fear was just another name for hanging onto sanity. Because she could not succumb to it. It was like soul-less blackness boring into her and she was lost maneuvering her way through a hopeless catacomb. Fear was like sharp claws grabbing her and pulling her back into the pits of all that was shrunk and bitter - that night. She could not surrender to it. Nor was she strong enough to fight it. It was maddening.

She sighed again heavily, again and let her feet wander off to meet the cold floor and rose. Her body swayed. The madness grew quiet and attempted to rob her of any sanity that could be left. She gripped the wooden frame of the bed and made way towards the window, padding through the dark. The night breeze was soft against her face, something she needed to calm her tingling nerves with. The curtains danced in front of the window sill, thumping gently like the wings of a moth. The dim moon hung among the clouds, the night fog making it look more mysterious and almost invisible.

The turbulent of emotions knocked her, every part of her, the hell of out of her, because she was already vulnerable and invested in fear. It would have moved insanity from her brain; she just couldn't let it get to her. She shook her head to clear up thoughts, wisps of hair falling on her face.

Right now, she just wanted the nightmares to evaporate. It had been four months since that incident. And for the four months she had been staying at the academy, each night was as sleep less as the one before.