Dreaming Away

Chapter 10

After that somewhat exhausting talk with my mother, although I'd never let her know how much she wore me out, I walked to my room. As I made my way down the hall I felt everyone's eyes on me. I should be used to this, I was a princess after all, but the affects of having to live through that- whatever you want to call it- I was still a little shaken up. I was surprised I was keeping it cool this long. All I really wanted to do was cry or scream or punch a wall or something, anything. But I couldn't do that, I couldn't let them have that kind of control over me, I couldn't let them see they had that kind of control over me. So I just kept walking. I had my head held high, not in a snobby way but enough to fake my confidence. Thing about living your entire life as royalty, you learn really quick that if you can't fake it then you won't make it.

Finally after what felt like miles, I got to my door. Without even a moments hesitation I opened the door. But as soon as that door shut behind me I was face down on my bed. I had to keep strong. I wouldn't let them get in my head. Who would put their own child through this, I thought, were they just trying to look out for my future in their own weird messed up way? I had no clue. A big part of me was still out in California on that tiny rickety bed sleeping my life away, hoping to anyone listening that this was a dream. I pinched myself, once, twice, and a third time just for good measure. And they weren't soft pinches either, they were the keep going until it hurt too much to bear kind. Still nothing changed. Not one thing.

Finally I sat up and got a good look around the place. Nothing changed from before I had to go into that machine. There was still the way too expensive dresser that I didn't even use and the way too expensive mirror that I never bother looking in. Everyone else makes sure I look up to their standards and I just say that's good enough. The huge walk-in closet that was way bigger than I needed, and I had a lot of clothes, loomed to my right through a door. On the left was my all marble bathroom that was heated through the floor so I never had to step on cold tile and the shower with dozens of features just like the ones in The Hunger Games. I read that book a while back and I remember demanding, and I mean demanding with a tantrum and screaming and everything, to have a shower just like that. Man am I a spoiled brat. You never really realize what you have until you compare it to what someone else has, especially if that someone else had been the life you were living not too long ago. Maybe that's why my parents never wanted me to hang out with kids outside the rich inner walls. They wanted me to stay oblivious and carefree wrapped around their little barbed fingers.

If they thought they could keep that act up they had another thing coming. I wanted to have some fun ruling the kingdom before I have them what they wanted.