The Kings Spawn | ✔︎

Chapter 17

"It was a bit messy, I hope you don't mind."

Shaking his head he places his coat lightly on the bed, "I should be thanking you."

I lower my hand in dismissal, "No, it's totally fine."

He swoops in lightly placing his hand on my forehead, "You don't seem to have a fever, are you alright?"

I swig my head away from him, "I-I'm totally fine, just a little tired."

He looks skeptical at my panicky state, it wasn't like I could hide it at this point, my whole body rigid as he eyes me up.

"Let's take you to your room." He calmly demands
pushing back the hair hanging loosely on his forehead, the darkened strands now resting elegantly in a messy uptone. I nod quickly, stumping up from the chair.

"We're here." He prospones pointing at the door next to his. I turn to him my face contorted into a confused expression.

"Are you joking? I'm supposed to be logging with the others girls."

He grabs my hand roughly turning me around, his eyebrows furrowed, "Would you rather be with them? Im not stopping you but you will be targeted.

It was true. They were unnecessarily rude to me, especially _______and_______. But it was to be expected, me and Nathan in there eyes were too close. Even though he wasn't the one who was choosing in the end, I was seen as a threat to the other girls.

"I'll take that as a yes."

He opens up the door leading me inside, it was the exact replica of the one beside me, down to the furniture. I walk in slowly, embracing the fresh scent.

"I'm sorry." I say out of nowhere, surprising me as well.

"For what?"

"Well.." I look down interlocking my fingers, "It's...nothing."

"Do you have trouble speaking to me?" He asks leaning closer, I bite my lips moving a bit back.

"Uh..I-I"

"Is there something about me that bothers you." He asks again closing the distance between us, I walk backward stumbling onto the bed behind me. "No!" I scream shielding the redness flushed across my face. He pushes my hand away his piercing blue eyes locked on me, "Do I make you nervous."

My heart starts beating against my rib cage mercilessly, the sudden question making me flustered. Why was he so interested all of a sudden. I look up, an amused smirk adorning his chiseled face. "Why do you care!" I blurt out in a moment of frustration.

He backs away suddenly clearing his throat, "I don't. See you tomorrow."

I peer at his retreating back, cooling my heated checks with my palms, why was I acting like this? This was a job, and as my employer he would obviously care.

I glance at my reflection, a strong blush decorating my cheeks. My disheveled hair going in different direction, did I look like this all day! I open up my duffel bag residing on the floor, going through it's contents to find the small brush. I sit cross legged giving up after a while, what was it going to help now anyways?

The washed out diary sticking out from my bag, I grab it laying it in my lap. I had to return it as soon as possible, at least before Hinteé found out, which wouldn't be anytime soon considering the neglect the small book had been through for a while now. I open up the first page, The name Carrie cursived on the top.

••••
Entry: 1
February 3.

New Country, New School, and basically a new life. I hated everything about it, starting with this ridiculous marriage. It was all Marks fault, the elopement, mom's strange behavior, he was the root of everything. But mom had already fallen too hard to see through his act. I was forced to leave behind my whole life for a 'love' that would probably last no longer than a year. On top of that I was being thrown away to a boarding school, an obvious tactic to get rid of me because I didn't fit their aesthetic, because I was too 'demonic'. In what world was wearing black clothes and matching lipstick considered demonic, I could admit it wasn't the ideal attire for a wedding but they were being overly dramatic. I could only hope the preppy rich kids attending Milestone wouldn't rub off on me...

I rush over to the bed stand the bird designed alarm ringing throughout the room, I turn off the trigger the room now silent. My mind currently buzzing in curiosity, were Carrie and Hinteé related, that would explain why her diary was stashed in the shelf. Coming back to my spot I pick up the diary once again, flipping through only to find the rest of the pages occupied by unrelated sentences, scratched in no basic order. The first entry the only full-fledged one.

The last page reserved for a drawing of a girl, she stood far away, but close enough to see the bloody tears streaming down her eyes. Pen scribbles surrounding her being, consuming her whole. A single droplet suddenly splashing on the page, I touch my face, tears welling down my cheeks. I flip through the pages the drawing taking a haunting turn. May 24th a drawing of a ballerina, fixed in a Tutsi, staring longingly into the abyss. One of the last drawings that possessed some life.

Sunlight peering into the window, I wake up curled in a feutal position hugging onto the small book. I pick up the clock, 8:43. Approximately seventeen minutes to get to the calling entrance, one of the three primilinary tests purposed to bring the vast numbers down. Grabbing my shoes I tumble across the hallways c