Poison's Exile
The moments that Pass
Cliff led me into an odd dwelling, which looks nothing like the places back home. This place was far to large and covered with bright colors that seemed to be splattered across the front. He told me that the humans call this paint. How could this be paint? Back home paint never came in such unnatural hues. I followed him cautiously into the strange bright home, feeling weary from the long day filled with such oddities. Though the oddities have not ended. There appeared to be small stars glowing brightly throughout the inner chambers of this dwelling. These lights were harsh and very unpleasant to gaze upon. I resist the urge to squeeze my eyes shut against the unnatural glow, I must follow after Cliff, so instead I cast my eyes downward to avoid the full force of the awful things.
Cliff’s feet walk at a slow pace ahead of me, and I laugh internally, back home he could be punished for walking ahead of me. A small piece of me grateful that no such punishment exist here, I hate when my people must suffer. I wonder, briefly, if my people were doing well or if Huntington’s brother remained on his murderous path. My heart aches painfully at the thought, but perhaps if he is, the people will realize their error and welcome me when I return home. Wait, that would be illegal, how could I return without incriminating myself? I shake my head, I must not think of such things right now. I must not lose focus on getting back home.
I shuffle past a small box with voices escaping from it and a small woman, whom sat in front of it. Her eyes not even glancing in my direction as she stared blankly at the box. I hurry past her, clutching the bottom of my dress close to my body so it would not drag on this floor made from the corpses of unwilling trees. This place feels so cold, and unfriendly, my ache to be home grows. Cliff finally stops and my body collides with his.
“Sorry, your highness, I should have told you that I had halted.” Cliff slightly bows his head. “My mother is behind this door, allow me to enter first and inform her that you are here.”
“Proceed,” I smile at him, attempting to hide my discomfort.
I stand awkwardly in the corridor, awaiting for Cliff to return. I have no idea what the conversation with his mother will proceed like. Perhaps, knowing the laws of our land she will view me as a villainous being, a rogue Queen trying to deceive her people. Would she believe reports that plagued my kingdom? Would she refuse to assist me because she believes that I have gotten what I deserved? I curl my fingers into my palms and dig my nails into my skin. I hate this waiting. I hate this uncertainty.
Cliff’s feet walk at a slow pace ahead of me, and I laugh internally, back home he could be punished for walking ahead of me. A small piece of me grateful that no such punishment exist here, I hate when my people must suffer. I wonder, briefly, if my people were doing well or if Huntington’s brother remained on his murderous path. My heart aches painfully at the thought, but perhaps if he is, the people will realize their error and welcome me when I return home. Wait, that would be illegal, how could I return without incriminating myself? I shake my head, I must not think of such things right now. I must not lose focus on getting back home.
I shuffle past a small box with voices escaping from it and a small woman, whom sat in front of it. Her eyes not even glancing in my direction as she stared blankly at the box. I hurry past her, clutching the bottom of my dress close to my body so it would not drag on this floor made from the corpses of unwilling trees. This place feels so cold, and unfriendly, my ache to be home grows. Cliff finally stops and my body collides with his.
“Sorry, your highness, I should have told you that I had halted.” Cliff slightly bows his head. “My mother is behind this door, allow me to enter first and inform her that you are here.”
“Proceed,” I smile at him, attempting to hide my discomfort.
I stand awkwardly in the corridor, awaiting for Cliff to return. I have no idea what the conversation with his mother will proceed like. Perhaps, knowing the laws of our land she will view me as a villainous being, a rogue Queen trying to deceive her people. Would she believe reports that plagued my kingdom? Would she refuse to assist me because she believes that I have gotten what I deserved? I curl my fingers into my palms and dig my nails into my skin. I hate this waiting. I hate this uncertainty.