The Crown

Ten.

The Crown

Manuel hated bad dreams from the very first day he had one, although he was only seven years old, he could never forget. The very tall long-legged and long-armed man with a very black unrecognizable face chased him around the Kingdom. He cried in fear, running down the hallway, looking for places to hide. It was like hide and seek except when he is found, he would die. What a horrible game it was, Manuel begging for mercy as he sought ways to escape. But there was no escaping. He appeared in his parent's room, hiding under her bed. He covered his hands over his mouth when he noticed the shoes of the evil creature walking to the room. Sweat began to drip from his forehead and tears from his eyes. He yelled after suddenly being pulled out from under the bed and into a bottomless pit. Pitch black was in every corner and the horrible feeling of his guts coming out of his mouth was erupting. He needed saving, someone to help him, he yelled and begged but nobody came to the rescue.

He finally fell and came to discover that he was on top of many, many snakes. they surrounded him and began suffocating him. He was losing his breath and would soon die. His vision was blurry and he began to give up in this endless world of suffering. He cried, yelled and he even screamed for someone to save him but no one came.

He would wake up from the horrible nightmare gasping for air, realizing that he had wet his pants and his bed. His father and mother would come running in treasure him that he was okay. Doctors and nurses were always there to ask him questions, they believed that he was diagnosed with a sleeping disorder but they could not bring up which sort. None of them knew that this was not a physical matter. It went on for years and years until the age of twenty-three.

Manuel could not sleep that night, he had a horrible feeling in his gut that the witch might appear in his room as a tall dark figure, fixing to kill him. He lay in bed with his eyes on the ceiling. He was not supposed to be scared, but how could he not? Jezebeth was evil and dangerous. He hated thinking about death and what she could do. He looked around his large dark chamber that only seemed to expand, a single candle was on. He noticed a silhouette of himself and looked towards the curtain-covered window. Not making any sense to him, he looked back and the silhouette was closer. It was not him, how could that be him if he was lying in bed?

It came closer again, becoming more of a shadow instead of a silhouette.

"Who is there?" He asked, but nobody answered.
He told himself he was hallucinating.
He was not.

He told himself he was in a dream.
He was not.

The shadow became darker as it came closer, the figure became more noticeable and recognizable. It was Jezebeth, she stood before his bed like a scary ghost in the children's stories with horns on her head. Instead of walking around his bed, she stretched herself forth with widened pitch-black eyes, but for some reason, they were identified as eyes.

He wanted to scream but could not open his mouth.
He wanted to run but he could not move.
He was paralyzed under her spell of misery.

He could not breathe, he could only die in this horrible nightmare of pain.

Suddenly he was on a mountain with several people.
He noticed two women crying, with a man by their side comforting them. He saw other men who were really sad, defeated faces. He saw soldiers dressed in red armour with large spears in their hands.

And finally, a man hanging on a cross, ready to be crucified. A crown of thorns was on his head, blood dripping down. His face was so bloody it was unrecognizable of who he was. His hands and feet were nailed. His body was beaten and crooked. Two other men were there on their crosses and hung by his sides but they were not nearly as in pain as he was.

The women cried more, people were weeping and mourning, complaining and begging the soldiers to stop for they did not understand.

Manuel did not understand as well, he looked at the man hanging on the cross once more. He was not crying or weeping. But instead, looking up to the sky, he was begging his father to forgive the people for they knew nothing of what they were doing.

Finally, one of the soldiers pierced his lower side with a long, sharp spear. Manuel felt the pain, although he was just a spectator, he felt the immense pain by his side. However, there was no physical blood pouring out. But then suddenly, the curtains opened to light making every dark corner of the room ran away, Including Jezebeth herself. It was a dream after all so he thought. But Manuel did not know how to feel because he was still paralyzed, feelings swept away in raging shock. He lay there in bed, closing his eyes.

~*~

"Mama, your Grace. Prince Manuel has finally awoken, but he is not speaking nor moving." Denissa ran into the parlour speaking.

It was strange for the prince to wake at this time, it was past noon. Denissa had been checking on him from hour to hour since breakfast and she thought something was strange about it.

Isabella, Rita, Helene and Denissa all stood in his chamber waiting for him to wake up. It got to a point of fear that they were about to call their trusted doctor but when Manuel's eyes opened, they were all relieved.

"I had a dream." He said. "A horrible nightmare of a dream."

After explaining the dream to his mother, grandmother and even Aaron. None of them could understand what it meant. That was when Manuel had, had enough and ordered them to call in an interpreter. Isabella was worried about her son. His father was not here to comfort him as he always did and neither was she for he did not want to see her. Through every bad dream and terrifying nightmare, Isabella was always there to comfort her son. There he lay with his grandmother by his side, holding his hand and trying to help him. How many more days of hate and disgust will he give her? How many days will Isabella beg for his forgiveness? She was tired of feeling helpless, she wanted her son back.

Manuel had a nightmare and now the entire kingdom knew. They celebrated and thanked the God's for bringing such pain upon him. Denissa was not amongst those people, she saw this chance as an opportunity to help him. "Your Grace, my lord. I have the best interpreter in town." She said, explaining that her court maid, Charcoal, had the ability to interpret dreams. She has mastered several over the years. Even some of Denissa's father's and mothers' own were all explained by her."

"Call her in," Manuel said. Denissa obeyed, running into Charcoal's room where she spent most of her time when she was not working. "Charcoal, remember when you interpreted my father and mother's dreams? Well, the prince has just had an awful dream and he has called you to interpret it, for he does not understand what it means."

"My lady, it has been over a year since I have interpreted a dream. I am afraid I do not have the talent anymore." Charcoal feared. What if she did not know what it meant, she would be called a fool." Listen to me Charcoal. You are the only chance I have got, you denying now will make me helpless in the eyes of the prince."

Hoping she would not fail, Charcoal nodded and agreed because she wanted to help lady Denissa.

The Crown