The Creation Of Adam

Chapter one: The Break in the Cycle

Sometimes I lie awake at night and just think about who I could have been in a past life. Maybe some badass biker in some forien country or some hippie in the middle of nowhere having like, three orgies a day. Maybe I was a different race and experienced different cultures. Maybe I had something to believe in , or someone special I shared my life with. A nice girl with a nice name and a nice personality. We probably had nice kids in a nice house and a nice dog that also had a nice name. Our kids would get nice kids and enter nice colleges and nice jobs. A nice life if you ask me.

My nice wife would have nice blonde hair and probably nice blue eyes. I watch my nice wife with her nice hair and nice eyes make me a nice meatloaf after I get home from my nice job. Probably a lawyer or something like that. Or maybe a doctor, a doctor with lots of awards for doing what any decent human being should be doing. Yeah that's a nice job. So I sit at the dining room table, sitting with my nice family in a nice house in a nice suburb somewhere in niceville.

Maybe i'm happy in nice ville. Maybe in niceville with my nice wife and kids and jobs im content and I know my purpose in life. Maybe being a doctor and father is all that anyone expects from me in niceville. Maybe in niceville, noone has to wake me up every morning and tell me who I am and what I need to be. Maybe drugs and pills don't exist in niceville and I never have to come in contact with them because my nice wife and kids don't pressure me in what I have grown up to become.

Now that's the dream life.

But yet again, maybe nothing would be different. Maybe my nice wife would cheat with the nice mailman that passes every morning, meaning my nice kids were not mine. Niceville would just be a mockery of how ugly my life could get. Id leave town, find pills, drug myself, and die an outcast and alone, without my nice wife and nice kids.

No thank you, at least in my current life I have enough money to pay my mistakes away.

The ugly and loud cry of the alarm clock broke through the silent morning air in a sudden burst of life. A groan escaped my lips as both arms were extended above me before shifting towards the cries of the metal box, slamming it quiet. It's not like it disturbed what little sleep i had, lately Ive have had a habit of waking before the set time put forth by the staff every morning.  Today was earlier than usual, since Sundays were the days of charity and god. The gold necklace of my neck won't let me forget that.

My hand nearest to my bedside finds the bottle of extra strength ibuprofen and i dry swallow what felt like three capsules. My feet find its place on the cold tile of the floor and urge my body up, finding my footing on my way to the bathroom doors.

The cycle of a day i have lived plenty of times play out as stable and predictable cycle. The shower is warm, my clothes are pressed, and the crown is placed on my head. I look in the mirror, don't like the person staring back. I eventually leave to the most painful room of the castle.

The dining room is full of chatter. Every Sunday, the family gathers around it, pretending like the charity we offer to the cities is a usual kindness that is presented by the family of the Declans.

Niceville would be put to shame by the facade we decide to put up every sunday. it's truly a laugh to think about.

My sister approaches me with the same drag appearance I have on, except for the detail of red eyes, that one is just me. She holds up two maps and groans "Luton, taking a train, have to leave in a couple of minutes if we want to make it". Her eyes look me up and down before her head shakes "God, everyday you look more desperate for a sandwich. Hasn't mother told you to stop-"

My hand lands on her mouth "shut up adrella, shut up."

"I thought you stopped?" her muffled voice came through my hand

"I thought I did too"

"And you're next in line?"

"I said shut up"

"Whatever" her curls shake as she turns away from my glare "the train leaves in five, get your shit together and get on it"

I sigh and walk into the lion's den, my pace only a couple seconds behind hers.

========

The train was silent and so was the station we landed at Luton. The only only would occasionally come from my sister, who wouldn't shut up about complaining about everything she had the nerve to complain about. I hated being alone with her, she reminds me too much of my father.

The silence was truly too good to last, feeling like it was only a fleeting couple of seconds. Once outside the station, reporters from across the valley were all gathered, trying to figure out what the young royals were doing in such a run down city. We maneuvered through the thick ocean of people and snaked our way into a car, returning to the same silence as before.

Niceville wouldn't have any of this nonsense. In niceville, everyone would be, well, nice to each other i guess. No microphones would be shoved into my face in the hopes that I would answer one of their burning hot questions.

They've gotten pretty weird as of recent I must admit. One even had the nerve to ask me if I was sexually active. Yeah, and they call us the assholes for not answering their questions.

The tired car eventually crawled its way to the church we were set to visit on this holy sunday. It looked decent for what it was, maybe a little too discolored for my taste, but it wasn't enough to make me run away screaming and crying from the place. If anything, it probably added some personality to the building that didn't look like it would last another ten years. The inside wasnt much better, but at least my sister and I were both made to seat in some fairly nice chairs right next to the choir that was set to perform in the next hour. As usual, everyone who entered the cathedral greeted us with dignity and kissed our rings, some of them with faces of disgust (which i don't blame, but jesus at least try to hide them) and some looking as if they might just fall at our presence, looking as if we were God himself. Those were always the ones i both admired and hated at the same time. They'd be disappointed to know what the prince was really up to these days. These same people would kick me off the throne if they spent an hour with me.

The line slowly got shorter and shorter until eventually there was only a handful left of men, women, and children to greet. Everyone else had finally found their seats and the choir started lining up to sing. I look up to see who was next to greet,

Then,

There he was,

Black hair that fell on his eyes,

Full lips,

Leaning down,

Kissing my hand

Never breaking eye contact,

A nice face,

A pretty face,

A beautiful face.