The Ring

Some people tell me I'm strange. Abnormal. Some say I should go to hell. It feels like I'm already there.

It all started on the day of the execution. I didn't know what was happening, I didn't know who would be executed. It's rare in Arkendale for an execution. Maybe once a few years, depending on the crime rate, but the death penalty was only used on those who betrayed the expectations of the kingdom, which was not often. Theo told me not to come, he said I would be too disturbed. I said that I could handle it, that I wasn't a little kid anymore. I was wrong.

We were in Town Square, where celebrations usually happened, though this time it would be different. King Richard, Queen Lea, Mia, and Theo sat at the front, on the silk-floored terrace, where the Royals always sat, while everyone else surrounded the stage where the execution would take place. The stage was old, and the screws were rusting on the wooden planks. I tried to remember the last time there was an execution in Arkendale; it was fourteen years ago, I was only four years old at the time. I didn't know the severity of the situation, but Mother explained to me that the woman being executed committed a terrible crime. She never said what the crime was now that I think about it, or who the woman was. Theo looked down at me, moving his fluffy coffee-brown hair out of his eyes, nervously waving at me. I reluctantly waved back, smiling up at him.

Theodore, my boyfriend, and Prince of Arkendale, is indescribably handsome. He's a tall muscular man, with sea-blue eyes, fluffy coffee-brown hair, and fair, soft skin. After Mother died, he never left my side, he was always with me cheering me up, and helping Dad obtain enough food for meals, sometimes even inviting us to have brunch or dinner at the Royal Castle. He has a heart of pure gold, the sweetest boy you'd ever meet. That's why I fell in love with him.

He's also very close with my father. When I go off to play with Mia, they hang out together at the house, talking about whatever boys talk about.

In the past week, when I have woken up to go to work and when I've come back, Father wasn't home. I assumed he had gone to the mines extra early those mornings and stayed extra early for the nights. I hoped not. When Father asks for extra work, it means he needs the extra money. We barely get by on his regular salary; therefore, I usually go to the market to sell the crops I grow in our backyard. If Father requested extra time, it meant I was not doing well enough and needed to work harder.

I could never ask Theo for help; I always got embarrassed. It was hard enough being a peasant and dating the prince; people thought I was using him. I couldn't bring even the slightest bit of truth to their assumptions.

I realized I had zoned out and quickly pulled myself back into reality. I tend to get distracted easily. Not the best characteristic, but I manage. The executioner came out onto the stage, grinning maniacally, walking up towards the guillotine. Even though it was old, the blade of the guillotine was shining like it was brand new. It was as sharp as an eagle's claws. I wonder who would get executed? I thought Everyone in the town was so careful.

It was time. The prisoner walked out, with two soldiers holding his arms so he couldn't run away. The chains on his feet were banging into each other, making a clinking noise as he walked to the guillotine. Clink, clink, clink. There was a long black hood covering his face and head. He looked strangely familiar. Tall, olive-skinned, and, although he looked starved, a bit chubby. He approached the guillotine, a foot away from it. I saw a tear fall from his face.

He was mumbling gibberish, "The Symptoms. The Ring. She won't be able to control herself. How could I be so selfish?"

He's gone mad, I thought.

The executioner took out a scroll from his pocket and started reading it,

"Oliver Larible," the executioner took off the prisoner's hood.

"Dad?!" I said exasperated.

"I'm so sorry Kate," Father said, tears streaming down his face, "I did it for you-"

"Silence!" the executioner interrupted, "You may not speak.

"You are guilty of stealing from the Royal Court," he continued.

I, naturally, zoned out. I wasn't paying attention to the words of the executioner, just my dad. We made eye contact, tears of anguish were streaming down his face, while I felt tears forming in my eyes, tears of disappointment.

We had an agreement, ever since Mom died, that we would never steal, no matter how hard living got. We were so serious about this that sometimes we would go days without eating. And now, because Dad stole, all that hard work was for nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I realized that the executioner finished his speech, putting Dad into the guillotine, with the help of the two other guards. First his head, then his two arms. I looked up at Theo trying to grab his attention, but he was too busy arguing with his dad, King Richard. Mia, Theo's nine-year-old sister, looked down at me, shell-shocked.

I heard the chatters around me. I felt the eyes of everyone looking at me, anticipating my next move. I wanted to hide in a hole and just pretend this never happened, pretend my dad wasn't a thief, pretend that life was perfect like it was just a week ago.

"Any last words?" The executioner said, rolling his eyes.

It was an obligation for the executioner to ask the prisoner if he had any last words so that the prisoners could explain themselves in their last moments of life. Usually, the prisoners use those last words to curse in the kingdom's name, saying they'd rather die than live in this "abomination" we call a kingdom.

Dad didn't do that though,

"Kate," he said, I looked at him, anger forming its way into my body almost taking control of me, but I pushed it down. I love my dad, I can't let his last moments on earth be his worst.

"Never. Go in. The Drawer. No matter how intriguing it may seem. No matter how irresistible the temptation is. Do not look in the Drawer!"

The executioner smiled a toothless grin.

"Times up." He pulled the rope to the guillotine, causing the blade to come crashing down. I turned away covering my eyes so I didn't have to see this horrendous execution.

At this point, tears were uncontrollably falling down my face. The only family I have left, my father, gone in seconds. My only friends were the cause of his death, the royal family.

Emotions started to flood my thoughts. I was running now, running away from the guillotine, away from the royal family, and back to the only place where I could be safe. Home.

As I ran home I wondered what Dad meant by telling me not to go in the drawer. What was in the drawer? Why would he waste his last breath telling me this? It's unimportant, I told myself, not wanting to think of my dad at all. The only thing I was thinking about now, was how I could avenge my father. And I knew exactly how to do it.