"What do you think this is? This isn't a game." He walked around the chair tying a black ribbon around my eyes. Whimpering, I fidgeted in my seat. If he wanted to kill me he certainly could now. I was shaking profoundly, my whole body in tremors. "First question, what are you doing here?"
"I," I stumbled. I wanted to look at him and be reassured that nothing would happen but the cool metallic object pressed tightly against my throat made me think otherwise. "I wanted to see you."
"I wanted to see you," he mocked in annoyance. I could picture him now, standing before me with his hands propped up on his hips. "Well I lied when I said wanted to see you again. I lied and here you are! What am I suppose to do now? I can't let you live, that would be too dangerous wouldn't it." His voice held an evil tone but I couldn't picture him as the evil type now, not after everything.
"Please don't kill me," I prayed softly into the darkness which now encased me. My hands gripped the wooden chair to which I was tied. I didn't want to die, I wasn't ready to die. After everything I went through it wasn't fair. I went through hell and back again and now I'm going to die. The poison didn't kill me and the price turned out to be an ass and now after all of that I don't get my happy ending? To hell with that.
The Queen sat several yards away on her thrown eating an apple. The rose bushes that surrounded her blossomed brightly in the light. I couldn't see anything but I had pictured it all before. Before I had been here as a welcome guest and the Queen was far more kinder. In her mouth the apple churned displaying her obese nature. She was no elegant Queen, no one to rule her people. I wanted her done with, I wanted her dead. If Eliza were here she'd scold me for such unfitting thoughts of a young maiden.
I sat up straight with a smirk. "Off with her head!" The Queen, I imagined, was on her feet pointing her long boney finger in my direction. My smirk only grew wider. The cold metal blade was held away from my neck now and any moment it would slice through the weak muscles and I'd be off with my head.
"Goodnight sleeping beauty," my executioner roared as the sword came rushing towards my throat. Of course I'd have to imagine it rushing towards my throat since they had blindfolded me after all.
The Morning After
By Alice B. Black