12

The Things We Did

The doors swing forward as we walk up, and behind them is a breathtaking entrance hall. Even now, while being lead to my imminent death, I take a moment to appreciate it’s grandeur. There are giant chandeliers suspended from the high ceiling, each around 5 feet distanced from each other.

Their light bounces off hundreds shiny trinkets and armor suits on each wall.

The palace is beautiful, yet I can’t ignore the fact that my body wants to slither away from it. Something is making my bones chill and quiver. I try to ignore it as we are escorted further inside, and instead focus on the firm grip Alex has on my arm.

We pass hundreds of portraits of what looks like the same woman over and over. In each one she is wearing a different dress, with a different hairstyle, and a different pose. She’s beautiful. No wonder she has so many portraits of herself. Her stunning black hair, and vibrant green eyes exude poise and grace. It’s almost as if I’ve seen her before. Most likely in every magazine filled with people like her.

The floor continues tumbling underneath us as we walk further into the palace. The ceiling eventually transitioned to glass and I can see a stormy sky above, swimming with clouds and flashes of light. There’s the occasional chandelier, and I can’t help wondering how the glass is holding it up. I squint and see a shimmer of purple in the glass.

After what seems like ages, we are finally stopped in front of a pair of large oak doors and I’m sure this is it. We’re so close to getting home, I can feel it. Come on. You know you’re disappointed. Ugh. That’s so true. I don’t want to leave! I don’t want to leave all the magic, and castles, and Alex behind. I don’t want to admit it, but I’ll miss Alex. The more time I spend with her the more I realize she’s like me. At least, on the inside.

Penn squeezes my hand and I squeeze back. Just by being next to him, I can tell he wants the opposite of what I want. He wants to go home, and I’m suddenly really sad.

The doors are pushed open and I take a deep breath. Then hold it. This… is the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen. We step into a large circular room, I imagine about the size of a soccer field.

The walls are a deep black marble, punctuated by golden pillars all around the room. My eyes follow the pillars up to the ceiling, which is made of glass. Somehow, the sky has turned to look like a perfect sunny day, unmarked by any clouds whatsoever. Sometimes, it seems like the picture changes, and the true dark sky can be seen past the bright one.

My eyes fall back to the floor, where there are thousands of what looks like gems and jewels embedded in a white stone. It must’ve been sanded down, because everything is perfectly smooth.

Finally, I look to the far end of the room, where 8 thrones are lined up against the wall. The largest throne is in the middle of the row, towering above the rest. The person who usually sits there must be important.

Despite the fact that the middle throne is empty, each other throne is taken. On the very left is sitting what looks like a person, but with stark white hair and pale skin, along with a white pantsuit and her hair pulled back in a tight bun. She looks like the most classy of the bunch, sitting perfectly straight with her hands on the arm rests. On her left, a green haired person sits. He’s wearing a dark green suit and tie, yet I can sense he’s not as restrained as his clothes. His eyes (also green) exude a wild personality. Next to him sits a purple young woman. I can tell she’s the youngest of the lot; she’s light and airy, unlike the rest of her colleagues, and she seems not as mature as the others. She’s sitting with her legs crossed respectfully, leaning on one elbow. Next to her, a black man with messy hair and a dark sweatshirt is shifting energetically, as if sitting down is killing him. On his left side stands the empty throne, and the next one, I haven’t noticed until now, is empty as well. On the back of the throne is a painting of a girl, adorning my age, with brown hair and bright green eyes. I must’ve mistook her as a person at first glance. She’s casting a ball of light, though I can’t tell you what color. Sometimes I see green, then I blink my eyes and it’s red. Then yellow, then orange, and so on. Next is a sharp man who looks even more bored than that empty chair, wearing a red suit and tie, but he has taken off the coat and draped it over the back of his throne. He’s fiddling with a small object, propping his feet up on the arm rests, and he almost reminds me of Alex, although he has vibrant red hair, and I can tell Alex is a lot nicer. Yikes.

On his left is an older man, with a blue blazer and pants, grey hair, and a kind face. He instantly reminds me of the loving grandfather I never had. He’s leaning back comfortably, with his hands in his lap.

Finally, on the very right, is sitting a gorgeous woman, wearing a yellow flowing dress, with golden hair curling down to her torso. She’s crossing her legs and fiddling with her hair distractedly.

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SHMS NaNoWriMo Anthology 2020 Copyright © 2020 by Lauren Mildahl. All Rights Reserved.

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