'I looked up at the golden arches above my head. . .'

So, I'm in a Creative Writing class. Our first group project was to make two writings of the same event; one from the Hero's point of view, and the second from the Villain. So over the course of about a week, I typed and editted our groups piece. We got two stories both about 8 pages. 

So after we were all finished we had to give it to another group for them to look over and comment about (this is how we get graded; comments and edits of other's pages ^^'') Anyway, so we hand my work over to a group of 4 juniors. Immedietly, they complain that it's too long and they'll never finish reading it by the end of the period. (they had handed us one packet consistinf of 2 an 1/5th pages) So they're reading it aloud amungst themselves, and you know what they do? They laugh at it. They LAUGH. Like at one part, they all shout how stupid it is that the villain starts coming at the hero at a knife. 'Who would write this?!' They shout. One says 'Man, I hate these sentances!'. 

I'm sitting less than 5 feet from these guys. 

I got so upset, I had to leave the room for a few minutes and rant to myself in the bathroom.

So, I gotta know; Does this really suck? /-\

This is the hero's point of view. I know it's not perfect, but, would you laugh at this? /-\

          I looked up at the golden arches above my head. The sun hit them in such a way that it was easy to understand why they called them the gates of the heavens. Never having seen them before, even I was stunned to silence. My escorts didn’t even look up as they kept us moving.

As we walked through the courtyard, many of the nobles turned to stare at the mangled boy being escorted by even more mangled guards. Well, I wouldn’t say I was a boy; I am eighteen after all. But I do have the uncanny skill of looking either older or younger than I really am. It comes in handy in my line of work.

When we reached the large doors to the throne room, two other guards opened the door for us. I smiled at them, but all they did was glare. I snickered as they pushed me along. The only reason they’re so mad at me is cause they’ve been trying in vain to catch me from day one. What can I say? I’m a hard guy to get.

A few more corridors and we were in the throne room. It was humongous, probably able to hold half the city. Not like commoners would be allowed in here though; the placed reeked of high class. Except for a few lowly servants and maybe ten guards, excluding my own, everyone was dressed in some of the ugliest, expensive looking clothing ever to exist. It’s like all women were part of some contest to wear the dress with the most ribbons, ruffles, and jewels.

And in the middle of the crowd was the king of fools himself; King Gerard. With his hair un-gracefully white and his impressive belly hanging out over his belt you’d think of him as more of an old coot in the streets begging for money instead of a powerful king. Yet, here he is. By the way, I’ve heard my clients speak of him; you’d think he was the best thing since the wheel.

Apparently some really do think so because hanging on his arm was a young woman who had his attention, looking at him as if he were the most amazing and attractive thing in the world. Although her hair was white you could tell she was young. She was what story-writers might call beautiful, and everyone including the king knew it. But though she had at least half the men in the room staring at her, her attention was all on the king.

I narrowed my eyes at her. Something about her wasn’t right. . .

She turned, noticing me staring at her. Her eyes were full of disdain. All the others turned to look at what she stared at. The room went silent. Someone coughed.

The soldier on my right stepped forward, clearing his throat, then announced;

“Your Highness King Gerard the Great, and my lady, I bring you; Dajar Lujayn.”

The king blinked, “Who?”

I almost thought I saw the girl snicker.

The guard blinked, taken aback no doubt by his king’s moment of pure stupidity, “The famous con-man who you put out a reward of ten thousand gold coins for.” There was no response from the king. “Uh, the man who swindled your mother out of almost every coin she owned.”

I smiled. My crowning achievement. Not many men, or women for that matter, get a big score like that in our work.

After a few moments the king’s eyes finally showed some recognition.

“Ah, yes, well done, very good.” He said quickly, as if saying it quickly would make up for his lack of knowledge before. I couldn’t help but notice the girl again who was staring at me like I was, well, a threat. I looked around to see if anyone else noticed but when I looked at her again she was back to complete innocence.

The king continued. “Bring him here.”

The guards brought me closer to the king.

“You, uh. . .”

“Dajar Lujayn.” The girl said quietly. It was the first time I heard her speak. Her voice sounded almost obligatory; like she had to force herself to sound small. You couldn’t notice if you weren’t paying attention, but it was still there. This was a woman who was used to having her say.

“Yes, yes, thank you, my dear.” The king said. “Dajar Lujayn, you are accused of multiple accounts of deceiving innocent people out of their money, including her highness, my mother.”

“You’re highness,” I said with a mocking tone, “most of my clients were far from innocent, let me assure you.”

“You are not permitted to speak! You are hereby sentenced to death by immediate beheading.”

“But most wise and just king, won’t you allow a man of my most noble profession a few last words before I am separated from my head?”

The king sat there speechless, as in disbelief of my request. The white-haired girl raised her eye-brow. If I play this right, I might get out of this. I just need to show this old goat that the real threat in this room is not me.

The king looked at the others in the room but they were all looking at him, like bejeweled sheep watching their fat shepherd.

His face turned red from the top of his balding head down to his second chin. “Yes, yes, go ahead; speak, but make it quick.”

I nodded to him before I looked around and addressed my audience.

“My fellow citizens, I ask that you not remember me for the wrongs I’ve done, but to remember me as a sad little boy, who never had enough.” Many of the nobles looked slightly confused. They hadn’t planned on remembering me at all.

“Oh, poor little boy!” She said with (fake) sympathy, “Oh, I pray the gods have mercy on your unfortunate life!”

I think she was over-doing it but the king thought she was being sincere, patting her hand and saying “Dear treasured Bala! We all know your heart bleeds for the less fortunate, but he is a criminal.”

“But sire,” I said, taking the chance to continue, “people like me always have a desire for more than the small amount we were given. And because of our usual low status we can’t acquire honest jobs. So we are forced to make our way with alternative lines of work.”

I had the attention of most of the nobles, waiting for me to get to my point. Bala was listening as well, but more for amusement.

“People like me are truly sad and pathetic, compared to rich and powerful courtiers like you. People like me need to lie and cheat to get by; people like me who are truly sad and pathetic. People like the infamous Mira Kali the Conqueror.”

 For a moment her lips were curled into a snarl, eyes narrowed slightly. Well, that was interesting, I thought to myself with a smile. I had meant it as just an example but clearly I hit the jackpot.

“What do you mean?” someone cried out.

“She’s a cold-blooded killer!” someone else said.

“Yes, true, she is that. But is it really her fault? What if we have it all wrong; what if she really isn’t that cold-blooded after all?

“You know, to be perfectly honest with you guys; I feel kind of bad for her.” Everyone was in a trance staring at me, waiting for my next words. Everyone, except for Bala. Now she had started twitching. Good; just a few more pushes and they’ll see what a complete nut-job she is and they’ll have to let me go for opening their eyes.

“I mean, think about it;” I continued, my tone slow and sympathetic, “this poor little woman was probably deprived of the loving care she needed and is now lashing out at the world. This poor sad little woman is probably trying to send the world a message; she needs love.”

I smiled to myself; I’m making a power-hungry mass murderer look like a poor attention-depraved girl. While almost half the courtiers were silently crying into handkerchiefs and the other half not so silently, Bala was practically fuming. No doubt about it. Bala was our poor little Mira Kali. Ha, should have known.

“Don’t we all need a little love?” I said, holding my palms up towards the crowd.

Some of the courtiers nodded into their handkerchiefs.

“Perhaps some people are just born without the need of love. They see love as something that gets in the way.” Mira said it as if it was fact, the truth. To her, it probably was. Now that she was speaking loud and openly it was obvious how much I was unraveling her. Just a little farther.

“Ah, but that’s what’s so sad. She was probably abused as a child, perhaps at a young age. But no matter what or how she became like this, like a poor, defenseless, beaten puppy trapped in a corner.” I stared right at her as I said these last few words, slowly and deliberately. If she didn’t know what I was doing before, she knew now.

I continued, “We should all feel bad for her; she deserves our pity.”

The people of the court were all nodding and agreeing to various degrees. Some even started shouting about what a terrible life that Mira the Conqueror had to bear. The king was sobbing uncontrollably. Mira’s eyes looked directly at mine with pure fiery hatred. If she ever got her hands on me, I’d be dead. I smiled at her.

“Oh most treasured Bala,” I playfully mocked the king’s tone from earlier, “what do you think of this poor defeated woman?”

Now the attention was on her.

“Yes, yes dear treasured Bala.” the king said, patting her arm, “We all know you’re the most sympathetic among us. Please dear child; tell us what you think of this.”

There was a long pause.

“Bala?” The king said.

Mira was shaking, fists clenched and jaw clamped. The king turned to her.

“Bala?” This time it was said with more caution and even suspicion.

Like lightning Mira struck out and in less than a second had a dagger in the king’s back. The courtiers, and I, barely registered what had happened before she called out; “Dragon!”

Like magic, four of the guards sprang into action. They attacked the other guards, who obviously were not part of the deal. Mira’s guards attacked with as much savageness as in the rumors. I couldn’t help but stare at them as the chaos ensued. People were in a huge rush to get out; a mass of bodies streaming towards the door. My guards had jumped into the fray to attack the traitors.

Then a sound caught my ear. I turned to look at the throne to see Mira sharpening her bloody dagger on one of the king’s ginormous diamond rings. Even over all the noise I could hear the slow scrape, scrape, scrape. She was looking intensely at the dagger, as if its sharpness was all she cared about.

“So Dajar,” she said slowly as she continued to sharpen the blade, “how did you figure it out?”

I smiled, “Secrets of the trade I’m afraid; couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to.”

“You know, I’m in a lot of trouble now because of you.” Although she looked at the edge of the knife, I knew her full attention was on me. “It was supposed to be a small quiet assassination in the middle of the night. Less panic, only the powerful nobles and their guards gone by afternoon; an easy take over.”

She looked up into my eyes. “But now that’s all ruined.” She threw the blade back, sinking it deep into the flesh that used to house the king. “All that planning, all that hard work, all that acting. For nothing.”

She started to slowly advance on me, taking each step one by one. “Well Dajar? Silver-tongue? Have anything to say.”

“I think I’ve said enough for one day, hmm?” I said with a mocking smile.

She lunged at me but I duck and roll off to the side. She got back up quickly and kept running at me, no doubt trying to get my neck in between her hands. This time I stood in front of one of the curtains that decorated the throne room. When she charged I moved to the side as she went barreling into the drapes.

I started to run but realized she had the corner of my shirt. I tried to struggle out of it but Mira recovered quickly. She pulled another blade out of her skirt. She looked me full in the eyes; “Little brat.” She said as she started to bring the blade down.

By some pure luck of chance one of the guards who had brought me in leaped in the way of her blade with his sword, cutting through the fabric of my shirt. I fell onto the floor, but I was free. The guard looked down at me for a moment.

“Run” was all he said before he was locked in combat with Mira.

I sat and watched him for one more moment before I scrambled up and blended into the last of the crowd that was rushing for the doors. The courtyard was in chaos as well and I quickly got lost in the see of bodies. Before I knew it I was thrown down into a dirty puddle. Looking up I saw that I was back in the streets in one of the alleyways outside the gates.

I looked back one more time at the palace. Now that Mira was probably empress, she was going to find me. People like her don’t just forgive and forget. I turned and ran down the alley, searching for a place to hide for the night.