The Kingdom Of Xänýurãn

Prologue

Ophelie POV:
Seriously, I didn't understand Henry.I was sitting on my bed, leaning against the wall as I didn't have a bedpost. I looked to my right to see the only window of my room open, letting all the light come in. Then I turned left, and looked at my closet. It was an old, wooden closet with a big mirror at the very centre of it. Then I gazed at the bathroom door before me, and back again at the window, trying to take in as many details as possible, not that it had been so long since we came. But he had to go back. I just sat on my bed, remembering what happened that night.
I just came from school that day, ate something and went to do my homework when I heard noise downstairs. I came rushing down the stairs, scared that he might have hurt himself falling when I saw him. He was sitting on the ground, which means I was right, he fell... I burst out laughing and he laughed along with me.
-"I can't believe it! How can you be so clumsy" I was gonna ask him what he was doing when I saw what he dropped. Boxes. Empty boxes. And I knew the meaning. We were moving again.
-"You can't be serious... We just settled down Henry where are we going again?!" I saw guilt on his face as he stood up and came towards me.
-"I know, sweetheart, and I am sorry. But we always lived in small cities in the country. Don't you wanna know what Big Cities are like." He held me by my shoulders." I am doing this for you. I saw how you looked around you when we came for the first time and you were disgusted. Well, I have to admit this is not one the most beautiful cities we ever lived in but..."
-"It's the worse..."I cut him off.
-"But, he started again, completely ignoring my comment, I had a good job here."
-"So why are we moving again?"
-"I had an argument with the company's leader just now"
-"Of course you did, what did you tell him this time, when he tried to discuss the price with you? That his wife was beautiful, like last time? Or that his suit was way too big for him." He tried to say something but I cut him off. "Henry you're 35 for god's sake! You have to stop saying this kind of stuff to people because even if it's fun for you it's starting to get on my nerves. I am so done with packing! So done with boxing! So done with moving! Do you think because I don't have friends it's easy to move from city to city with no regret? Every time I start to talk with someone and get friendly with them you come home with boxes and let's go for another city. What I am saying is that it's hard for me! It's hard not to have anyone to talk to, to joke around with or to call when I am bored. Moving is hard for me okay?!!!? It's even harder because my parents aren't here. And it's not because my parents gave you all rights on me before dying that you have to use me like a puppet and like I don't have feelings. I wish my parents actually choose someone else!"
Just as the words came out of my mouth I regretted them. It's wasn't true. I was so glad my parents choose him as my godfather, him and not anyone else. They died when I was just a baby, Henry had said, barely a few days old. And he looked after me patiently, like a real dad would. He never got angry when I did things like breaking glasses by throwing them to the ground when I was two. Or breaking my window glass when I was four. Burning down the whole kitchen when I was six and crying afterwards that it was his fault I wanted to bake a cake because he was such a bad cook. Or  when I put washing liquid in the washing machine because there wasn't any special soap left and it broke, flooding the house with water and soap and he had to wash the grounds AND the dishes all again. Or when I decided I would go get bread in a town I didn't even know and I got lost, he was so scared and so panicked when he met up with the policeman who had found me in front of a club. I still remember how he scolded me in front of the man while hugging me at the same time. And how when he decided to punish me afterwards and told me to go to my room, and I told him I went to buy bread because I wanted to help him because he was  overworking he burst into tears. He told me it was okay and he could manage it. But even then, when I was only five, I knew it wasn't true. He worked so hard it was killing me. He never took a break or even complained. This man has wasted his youth, looking after me and I just told him I wished my parents choose someone else. I was disgusted with myself... He had never said something like that to me. Never. He was only 19 when my parents died. He never did anything to upset me, never talked with anyone if it wasn't necessary. And now that I think about it, he's never had a girlfriend, too scared it might scare me or upset me. I ruined his life. That's what happened. He didn't ruin mine, I ruined his and I needed to apologize , right now. But the man who was standing in front of me listening to my speech a moment ago, had started crying and left the house, leaving me and my regret behind. I have to go get him, I told myself, forcing my feet to move as they froze. He left. Tears welled in my eyes at the thought of being left, at the thought of being alone. He left...