His blood on my hands

Belle five

"Are you sure?" Claud teases.

"Yes, I swear, now leave me alone about it!" I laugh.

Claud. My childhood best friend. We've been friends for so long, I can't even remember how it began. We used to tell each other everything. About how much we hated our families. About how much we wished we could rule. Neither of us was the direct heir to the throne. We would talk about spaceships and faraway lands. We would joke that once we were of age, we would run off together and start a family.

"I still think you're lying. No way you were at school for four years and never found somebody."

"I didn't find anyone!"

"Okay. Okay." He puts his hands up in defense, "So, how was it?"

"High school?"

"Yeah, I mean, what did you do?"

He was homeschooled.

"Nothing much, honestly. I mean, I had assignments and tests just like any other student. I got decent grades, and I had a few friends."

"But the fun stuff happens in between all of that. Was there really nothing to remember?"

I think back to the picnic with her. How I kissed her. When she told me she loved me too. And when she yelled at me and left the room.

"Nope, it was pretty boring."

"Sucks."

"So, do you want to come help me cook lunch?"
"Sure! I love your house!"

We walk back into my house, my parents aren't home. They don't pay much attention to me. It's not all bad though, it gives me a chance to do what I want without being criticized.

The walls are made of white marble, and the rims as well as the ceiling are lined with pure gold. There are so many plants around the house, and so many vines on the walls.

"Spaghetti?" I ask.

He nods and grabs the pasta from the shelf. I make the sauce and he warms the meatballs. After fifteen minutes it's done and in two bowls.

"Hey, do you want to eat it in the greenhouse?" He asks.

I nod with a smile and we head upstairs. The greenhouse is my favorite room in the house. It's where I come to clear my mind or to paint. It's quite small but I like it. It makes me feel secure. I like to practice the violin up here too. I'm no good at it though.

We both sit on the ground. We don't have much to talk about even though it's been four years. Maybe it's because it's been four years. He tries to spark a conversation about his mom, but after a couple minutes there's nothing left to say. We both look outside in silence.

I love watching the birds fly around. Especially the young ones who don't know how to fly. They simply take a leap of faith and somehow, they fly. It feels like magic but it's just genetics. Many blue jays like to nest in our trees. At the start my parents tried to get rid of them, but they kept returning so they gave it up and let them stay. If Jamia were here I would talk to her about birds and flying. But she's not here.