19. PRINCE CHARMING (2/2)

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~Hebe~

'  Our time here has been nothing but a dream. I feel I will remember every moment of tonight.

  Bean continues to row us back. The early morning's rays tell us that it is time to go back home.

  I know I will be nothing but a grouch today from no sleep, but tonight was definitely worth it. A girl's life is plain, and boring. We usually die from childbirth anyways, so why not have some fun for our short lives?

  'We only live once,' I tell myself to make up for our actions of last night.

  Bean and I have started a small conversation about the passing flowers. Each grows differently from the rest. They are like us; we all have a different life and path from each other.

Suddenly, a loud yell breaks our meek conversation.

  We turn and see one of Lord Sun's sons. He is the one who slapped my butt the night we came here. My eyebrows furrow to try and see what he holds.

I gasp, "It's a gun," I whisper.

  I recognize the silver thing as the one my very own mother used to kill my real father with. The loud bangs come back to me.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

  Gunshots, from not only that night when I was a little over two, replay, over, and over again.

  I remember "Dad", or Not-Dad, shooting that elderly dirty-coat. She couldn't even defend herself. She was just doing her job. Yet, Not-Dad felt the need to end her life.

  'Just like how Mom felt the need to end my real father's life.' I think. My eyes are wide as I stare at the tool that always causes anything but good. The mere sight of it will bring bad luck.

  'And for what? What would my real father have done? Taken me out of here? Given me a better life?'

  I am so shocked from the sight of the thing, that I don't hear Bean yelling at me. "Get down!" He hisses, before ruffly pushing me to the bottom of the boat.

  "Hah!" I hear the boy squawk, "I knew shit-eyes was different, but I never would have thought she be a dirty-coat, or that she would date another one of her filthy kind,"

  "Watch your mouth." I hear Bean growl.

  "Or what?" He plays with the gun, "You gonna kill me?"

  Bean stays quiet. I know we are near the shore. I don't really know how to make a boat move, but if we just move a bit closer, we might be able to make a run for it.

  Not that running would do any good. We would be fugitives, if the boy's gun didn't get us first. Since we are both dirty-coats, there would not be a word on our deaths, as no one would care.

Running away also means leaving everyone else I know and love.

I made Clover a promise.

  The boy begins to laugh harder, "Better run, big man,"

  He lifts up the gun, and starts to shoot at our boat. Water begins to flood through the bottom of it. I wince as a piece of wood jams into my hand.

  Bean stumbled backwards, and our whole boat tips over. I rip off the paddle. I have an idea.

  I don't know how to swim, so for now I hug the boat closely. Another shot fires, but this time it is from Bean. He is soaking wet, and furious.

  "Better run, little boy," He mutters.

  "Pssh, whatcha gonna do with that?" The boy points at his gun.

  While the two mock each other, I slowly try to swim towards the shore. I know I would have drown, but an urge of the need to survive courses through me, and I find my way.

  Bean sees me, and his eyes widen with concern. He mouths something that I can't make out.

  Sun's son turns to where I am. "Oh, so shit-eyes is trying to make a run for it, aye?"

  He stalks closer to me. I can see his father's reflection in his eyes. "Are you tryin' to run, wolf-eyes?"

  A loud — BANG! — sounds. Blood pools from the boy's arm, where he held the gun. It drops to the ground. He screams a blood-curling sound.

  "Fucking bastard!" He yells at Bean.

  I take this time to take his gun. The thing is cold against my pale hands. I know such an invention is only used for death.

  Time slows. I raise it at his greasy hair, just like his father's. Then I pull the trigger.

Bang.

  He glares at me, through hateful eyes. Even in death, he doesn't cease to hold his anger. Then he falls.

  I drop his gun, and step back. Everything goes silent. Bean watches me — with a smile.

  "Great aim," He comments, and pulls himself towards me. "You should really consider joining—"

  "Bean, please stop," I hiss.

  I look down at the boy. The dead boy. This wasn't his fault; he grew up in a world of hate. He was taught to hate. He was taught those horrible, horrible words. He was taught about the ways of this society, and accepted that this is how the world is.

Just like how I did.

  "What do you mean, stop? That was beautiful," He tries to take my hands.

  I see a world if I do take them this time. I see all the blood spilled, by my hands only. I see a world of pure power that I could hold if I just did one, simple action.

  I shake my head. No, I can't. "That was a boy. That was a life. How can you see this... death as beautiful?"

  He goes silent again, and looks down at the body before shrugging. "That was a white-coat who tried to kill us. We had to kill him, or one of us would be dead. Do you wish to be dead? Do you want me to be dead?"

  "No." I say, and feel tears brimming in my eyes. "That boy couldn't help his actions. That was what he had been taught. He did not know better. Yes, we had to kill him, but are you really going to call his death beautiful?"

  "I mean.."

  "You aren't who I thought you were." I tell him before pulling my hair back into its cap and putting on my wig.

Then I walk off.

So much for Prince Charming. '

  I miss him too, though.

  I know he was messed-up.

  Yet, I still care, too much for him.

I sigh, and just decide to go to bed.

——

A/N: Also taken from the book "The Society"

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