Young Writers Society

I can't fall asleep. The interview went perfectly. It was aired at 9:00 pm and there were millions of viewers. It made Mom and Dad happy. Which made me think that I'm not such a family disappointment after all. 

So why can I not sleep? One word, 8 letters, Alexander. 

I wasn't acting, he had said to me. What did I expect? No, I know what I expected. I figured that we would keep seeing our forbidden loves until the wedding day then cut them off. It sounds horrible, yes, but right. He didn't follow the plan. I find myself angered with his choices. 

"It's not his fault," I say softly. I wonder what happened between Alexander and his mysterious girl. A fall-out maybe. 

"Stop tossing and turning," snaps Nicoletta. "I'm trying to sleep, dear."

"So am I, grump," I reply.

"Don't call me a grump," she snaps. She sits up and flicks on the light. "Seriously, Cassandra, you were quiet all through dinner. What is going on?"

I debate on whether to tell her or not. I tell Nicoletta everything usually. She is worried enough as it is. I can't burden her anymore.

"I have a headache," I lie. If she doesn't believe me, my sister does not pry. She shrugs and switches off the light. Leaving me to my thoughts.

I awake earlier than my sister the next morning. I'm careful to get dressed quietly. I dress in an azure blue-colored jumpsuit. I slip on boots and tie my hair into a ponytail. Opening the doors to our balcony, I plot my escape.

The balcony overlooks the stables. I do not know how to ride horses. My father never had the time to teach me and my mother thought it was a waste of time. Great, I think to myself. I use the vines to lower myself to the ground. I've done this a dozen times before so this time is no different.

The vine stops maybe 10 feet up. The gardener must have cut it. I bite my lip. I debate whether to climb back up to the warmth of my room or jump down. I let go, bracing myself. The impact is hard, my head it's the ground first. I groan. Stars interrupt my vision, dancing around. Dizziness overcomes me as I try to sit up.

"Get up," I command myself.

"Princess!" I hear someone shout. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. So much for trying to be subtle. I have probably woken up the whole palace.

"I'm fine!" I call, but even that pains me. What was I thinking? I fear that I am losing my mind. The guard runs to my aid. 

"Miss, where does it hurt?" the man says with concern. I gesture to my head and my right wrist. I must have landed on it weird. "Can you stand?"

I can't sit up, I want to snap to him. 

"No," I whimper. To my horror, I start crying. I haven't cried since...I can't even remember the last time I've cried. I do not cry elegantly or even pretty. No, my face blotches and my sobs are loud and obnoxious. 

"Ma'am," the guard puts an awkward hand on my back, patting int gently. This brings me comfort for a moment, then the tears escape me like a river. "Please don't cry, miss. You'll be alright. If you just let me help you to the infirmary-"

"Cassandra!" I hear someone from above. The voice is high-pitched. Nicoletta. Great. I've made a spectacle of myself. I paw at m eyes furiously.

"I'm fine, Nicoletta!" I shout. "Go to bed!"

"Cassandra, you idiot!" I hear her scream. This makes my head throb even more. She goes on with a rant from the window but I'm hardly listening. The guard begs me to let me assist him but I'm shaking, my arms wrapped around me.

The funny thing is, I don't know why I'm crying. Maybe it's all the anxiety built up from making the kingdom happy. Maybe it's feeling like a disappointment. Maybe it's not being able to choose. Or, maybe, and possibly it's because I cannot be myself anymore. 

This thought does not help my case and I begin to cry more.