The Princess and The Murderer

Chapter 1

I've been walking for hours. I think I'm going crazy, considering I've been singing "Mad World" on loop. I think this is my 45th time. Doesn't matter really. It's just too long. Haha... That's what she said.

I searched around for anywhere to rest

After tripping over a stupid log that was on the stupid ground, I spot a cottage not too far away. There's a nicely decorated punch buggy with bedazzled wheels. I've never actually seen one in person, only in pictures.

"Hehe punch buggy," I chuckle while punching myself because no one else was around. "No punch backs." I punch myself again. "Hey, I said no punch backs!" I walk closer toward the cottage, muffled voices coming into earshot.

"You are a princess, Sharkeisha. You just need to be transferred home and you'll be taught the ways of life."

"Can you teach me what 9 plus 10 is? I know it's 21, but my nana says it's not." I peep in the window to see what kind of dumbass could be speaking and my heart almost drops. You know that saying, "There's always another you in the world?" That's this situation. This girl looks exactly like me. It makes me drop to the floor.

"Now you listen Sharkeisha, you'll be transferred in the morning. Do not miss this trip like you did last time. Being the heir to the throne is more important than a mani-pedi." I hear the girl sigh. "We know this is a lot to spring onto you at sixteen. I mean, you're ruling a country once plagued by the black death, getting into an arranged marriage, and getting the crapy iPhone 8. But we promise everything will work out." I gag at the thought of marrying a guy who I don't know. Scratch that. I gag at the thought of marrying a guy period.

"I wish I was dead!" The princess yells. I smile and raise an eyebrow.

"You wish you were dead sweetheart? Wish granted."

My plan was set in motion once the two adults left the cottage to who knows where. With a smirk on my face, I jumped straight into the window, breaking the glass into tiny pieces. Somehow I made it out uninjured.

The girl inside screamed so loud that it broke the other windows in the cottage. I quickly covered my ears with that horrid sound. Who knew that a girl that small could scream so loud... Can I scream that loud?

"Begone thot, or say hello to my little friend!" I exclaimed. She didn't say anything at the moment. My doppelganger had her eyes widened and looked absolutely terrified.

She stuttered, "W-wha- W-who are you and why do you look like me!?" I leaned in close, and whispered, "I'm your worst nightmare."

Now I'm sitting in her room, hands drenched in blood. "Sharkeisha" lays on the floor, her throat ripped out. "What to do, what to do." I wash my hands off and squat down, looking at my twin. "What do you prefer? Being cremated, being buried, or being drowned and letting all the little fishies eat you right up?" I chuckle. "Nevermind, I choose fire." I tie the girl up to a wooden chair in the backyard, right on top of the bonfire spot. "This should do nicely. Any last words?"

"Been there, done that." She gasps in supposed horror. "Goodbye, lovely. It'll be nice to be you for the rest of our pitiful life." With that, I light a match and her muffled screams as she burned to a crisp. I then realize that I would probably need to change out of my clothes and into hers. "Shit..." Looking through her closet was like watching My Little Pony. Boring, colorful, and nauseating. "I guess this will do," I mutter, pulling out a cream colored dress.

I'm unable to sleep. I'm not used to being so clean, the dress is damn uncomfortable, and my ability to read this girl's diaries is near missing. All I can learn from her is her family members' names, her betrothed boyfriend, and her likes. I roll my eyes, reading her final entry, and write one in myself. Dear Diary, I stole a girl's identity. My name is Viper. And I hate writing in diaries. The sound of cars approaching makes me snap my head toward the sound. I give myself a pep talk before meeting the people from last night.

"Princess Sharkeisha! We hope you've knocked some sense into yourself, we have no time to waste."

"I have," I respond. "But first, I want to set something straight. Don't call me Sharkeisha. Call me.. I don't know. Keisha or Viper or some shit. Honestly, Sharkeisha is too long and kind of ugly." The man looks shocked.

"You've never hated your name before, madam. If my memory serves me well, you said it was the name of a queen dedicated to beauty." I grimace. This girl had some serious issues.

"Please realize that I was simply acting, then." He nods, raising an eyebrow.

"You seem different, your majesty." I gulp, my heart sinking.

"Yes well, I'm a different person than the girl you've known."

"I suppose so," he mutters, opening the door. "Out we go then, Miss Keisha." I giggle to myself. Oh my god, she dead. I almost step out the door when Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass speaks again. "Your shoes." I sigh. And turn around, sticking my foot out to the person holding my shoes on the floor.

"This is all so tedious, I'd rather be in the car."

"Yes well, let's depart from here then. We have much to discuss." I rush to the car and sit, smiling to myself. I open the diary again, writing my final thoughts for the time being. I'm finally getting the life I deserve. And trust me when I say, I'm going to enjoy every moment of it.