Emily In The Selection (book 2)

Chapter 4

Sleep was all I could do within the next few days. It was like I was living in a nightmare whenever I was awake, so I figured any dream I could have while I slept would be better than the horrifying one I was living.

Still, I woke up from every nap with tear- stained cheeks and a heavy heart. Being in the palace didn't make it any easier. Nothing did. Every memory I could think of lead to frustration. Every person that I felt close with lead in heartbreak. Every breath I took lead me into depression. I felt trapped in my own mind.

I got up for the first time today. Amelia's funeral was five days ago, making the king and queen's tomorrow. This funeral wasn't going to be a particularly emotional one for me since I wasn't exactly attached to Ryan's parents. But I still grieved over them and prepared another black outfit for their funeral as well.

I looked at my dreaded reflection in the mirror and saw just what I hated to see. My face was puffy and wet, indicating I was heartbroken. It hurt even more to recognize my sadness through my appearance. I scoffed at what Ryan used to look at as beautiful. If I planned to even consider myself presentable, I need to take a bath.

This wasn't easy. This was one of the many tasks that I had to teach myself to do without a maid helping me or being spoiled by royalty. Even though it was something as simple as a bath, I had to admit that I needed help to accomplish it.

After ten minutes of fidgeting with the faucet head, I managed to get the water to run. Plugging the drain was one of the hardest parts. While I knew to push down on the metal piece sitting at the bottom of the tub, I couldn't get it to budge. Eventually I pushed so hard on it that my hand slipped and I ended up bruising my fingertips.

"Ga!" I squealed as I dropped myself down to the floor, collapsing my legs beneath me.

My hand was shaking rapidly, mainly out of distress, but also because a pain shot up and down my wrist. I began to sob again, louder than the volume of the running water from the tub.

"Why can't anyone realize that I'm burning in a living hell?! Can anyone hear me?! Can anyone see that I'm laying in ruins?! Does anyone care?!" I screamed as loud as my voice allowed me to go. No one heard. No one responded. I was growing insane and yet every human that had the capability to reach me at the given moment was less than interested in helping me keep myself functional.

"No!" I laughed. I couldn't scream this time, but I shook my head, "no, no one can hear me," I laughed hysterically, "and no one cares. The only people who care are dead."

I sat in my own pity for the time being before I could get myself to my feet. When I did, I turned the water off and attempted to give the shower a try. It was easier to work. I also refused to allow myself to lay in a bathtub where the only I thing I could do was think. I didn't want to think. My only thoughts were full of pain that I couldn't bear.

I undressed and pulled my body under the dripping water. What if he could see me from heaven? I thought before I angered myself with thinking. I needed to stop. So I sang.

"But tonight I am yours," I whispered under my breath. The song fed the pain I was in, but for some reason it was soothing.

I kept breathing out the words much slower and softer then they were meant to be sang, "Ask me what do I want," I sighed.

Holding in that breathe, I hissed as the cold water ran against my dirty face. "Ah," I wheezed. It was not used to the water splashing my skin the way it did. I couldn't help but cringe a bit.

"I say whatever can cure this . . . mess," I continued singing, which really wasn't anything more than a mere conversation with myself.