Hidden Secrets

1

Every good kingdom has a good king. That's what my mother used to tell me at least. Sometimes I think she's wrong. Times like these. 

The king stands in the middle of the square with his sword drawn. I stand near the back so I can stay hidden among all the craziness. Guards drag the prisoner to the infamous rock that sits in the middle of the square. We all stare on as our hero gets his beautiful face pushed into the rock. The blood-soaked rock.

No one says a word but we all bow our heads in silent thanks for what he has done. 

The king, for the third time this month, swings his sword through the boy's neck. None of us can see what is going on for fear we will do something crazy and end up in his position, but we know what happens. The smile on both the king's and prisoners face, the sickening cut through the neck and finally the head rolling across the ground like a sick looking soccer ball. 

The image I make in my head makes me want to throw up. I tighten the cloak draped across my back as if I were cold. Anything to do to distract myself from the fact that I shouldn't be here.

Once we are permitted to leave I swiftly cross the street weaving in and out of people to get to the closest alleyway.  

I make my way down an alley after alley. Pinpointing the way to the castle in my mind, I head north. At least of what I've been told is north. 

My mind starts to wander to the boy, our hero. Well, he's not much of a hero now, considering that his head is detached from his body. 

He didn't have a name, he was always just known as the boy or our hero. He would steal food from the castle to feed the townspeople. He stopped countless guards from hurting children. Rumour has it, he could get from one side of the island to the other in less than an hour. He was the most promising to save us. 

Now he's dead.

I finally get to the back doors where the servants and cooks come through. Luckily no one is around to see me sneak back into my room. I grab a strawberry left on the counter as I leave the kitchen. I turn corridor after corridor till I manage to get to the stairs. I rush up as quietly as I can so-

"Scarlet." The king's voice booms into the massive room. Curses to whoever designed this wing of the castle to have the only stairs in the front room.

I turn around quickly "Yes father?"

"You know you're not allowed to watch the public executions from anywhere outside the castle right?" He already knows the answer but feels the need to repeat himself everytime this happens. Which is every time there is an execution. 

"Yes father" I start slowly backing up the stairs. 

He follows by taking a step up. "I just don't want you to get hurt, those people... They can hurt you like they hurt your mother you know." 

"You hurt mom. And she saved you." My voice almost comes out as a whisper "They never wanted to hurt her." My voice starts to rise as I ascend up the stairs "SHE WOULDN'T HAVE DIED IF IT WERN'T FOR YOU!"

I start to tremble so much it feels as though my whole world is shaking. 

"Scarlet-"

I don't wait to hear his excuses. I don't want to hear them again. I turn and run up the stairs, run down the hall and up the spiral staircase that leads to my room. My tower. That man has blood on his hands, and it's not the blood of only innocent caring people, but of the very person, he claims to have loved. 

I make it up the crumbling stairs to my room, open the door that I painted myself - The view outside my window, the top of a forest at sunset with gold streaks throughout - once I close the door I let out a scream louder than any before. Somehow I manage to walk over to my bed where I flop into a pillow. I let out another scream before I start crying. 

It's all his fault. It's his fault I have to live like this. Hate swims in my vision until I silently cry myself to sleep.