Hey, kids! It’s Thursday, that means another installment of THE GIRL WHO WOULD BE KING.

You can download The Girl Who Would Be King Chapters 7 & 8.

You can download The Girl Who Would Be King Chapters 1 – 8.

Or if you want to read on the blog you can read 7 & 8 below, or hit THE GIRL WHO WOULD BE KING tab at the top of the page to read the entire piece on the blog.

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I hit the ground and go into a crouch, my hands and feet sinking slightly into the soft ground. The feeling of being alive doesn’t leave me. In fact, as the mud seeps into my shoes and through my fingers I feel somehow deeply connected to not just the earth, but to everything. The world feels big and I feel a part of it in some important unspoken way.  I stay there for a long while, just feeling.

When I finally move again I put everything back to how it was and sneak back in the kitchen door and lock it up.  Upstairs I take off all my clothes, careful to put both my mother’s bracelet and Jenny’s locket on the sink edge, and rinse the clothes and my shoes in the sink, so that they are only wet and not dirty.  I wash my busted up hands, wincing as the water runs into the tears where the bricks cut into my knuckles.  I clean off my body and then both my bracelet and Jenny’s locket.  Looking inside of Jenny’s locket I see what was more important to her than anything.  The locket has two pictures that are by some miracle barely damaged.  They look like they could be her parents.  I think of all the things I would do if only I could have a picture of my parents and Jasper.

I look up and catch a glimpse of myself in the dark mirror.  I’m always shocked by how much I look like my mother – the same long arms and legs, broad shoulders, red hair, pale skin, and smattering of freckles.  My eyes are dark blue like hers but my mouth is a little wider and if I grow any taller I think I’ll be taller too.  I guess if I can’t have a picture it’s nice to carry her around on my face.  I just wish there was some of my father in there too.

When I go back into the sleeping room I put my clothes under the bed, hoping they’ll dry a little before morning, and the last thing I do before I crawl into bed is place Jenny’s locket in her sleeping hand, cupped perfectly, as if waiting for it.  I think I won’t be able to sleep with all the excitement of the night and worry about having to hide my damaged hands from the staff, but my body takes over and I’m asleep almost instantly.

I dream of my mother.

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