Monster's Little Princess

Chapter 1

Lucy

"I know they have my name. That I’m on their list."

The orange glow of lanterns permeates the town square. Happy couples, children, and elders all galavant, laughing and chatting around abandoned houses and decrepit storefronts that haven’t found new owners.

Their smiles taunt me. I want what they have so badly, but I know in this life, I might never find it.

I can’t remember the last time I was truly happy. It might have been before my sister was born, though I’m surprised I can even remember that far back. During the very brief period when I was an only child, at least I was the focus of somebody’s attention.

In the middle of the town square, I sit alone, observing passersby, just trying to make something of my last few days on Protheka. The atmosphere is quaint. All around me, I can hear the cries of insects take form, calling from the forests and the trees.

“Who do you think will be the sacrifice?”

My ears are immediately pulled to the source.

An elderly gentleman who I recognize as Alder Ellis has taken up a seat nearby along with several of his peers. They wear prim attire, and I recognize them from the positions of power they used to occupy within the town before retiring.

Alder Ellis, the former mayor. Lunk Greeley, a retired priest. Hillard Batlazshire, local hunter for hire and the talk of the town. And Mullen Retch, a man who single-handedly put together the local schools, with possibly a bit of corruption involved.

They don’t see me watching.

They don’t know what I’m thinking.

“Younger population just keeps getting smaller and smaller,” Hillard says. “There are only a couple of viable options.”

Funny how they can talk about me as though I don’t exist. But that’s my skill. I can be anywhere, and nobody notices I’m there because my entire life I’ve been invisible.

I’m like an insect to these townsfolk. And they will readily stomp on me, if given the chance.

Their chance is coming up.

“My money’s on that girl… Her name starts with an ‘L.’”

Alder is deep in thought, trying to formulate my name from out of nothing. What’s frustrating is he used to be a friend of my father’s.

“Luella?” Mullen offers a name that isn’t mine. He used to be my teacher. He guided me in learning some of the far languages of Protheka.

“No, she’s too old to be offered. And she’s too valuable, anyway,” Alder says.

He pauses to think.

“The one with the hot sister. The oldest daughter of the Alton family.”

My blood boils. To think that this man used to hold a position of power over me, and that’s how he sees us.

“Ah. Leslie?”

It’s again not my name.

“I think that’s it!”

I want to stomp over to them and tell them off. I’d like to take the scorching candles that cover the town square and cover them with the burning wax.

Maybe that’s a bit extreme.

Still, they need to pay.

“It really is a pity though,” Lunk pipes up.

The three look at him in confusion.

“It’s how we’ve always done things, Lunk,” Alder spits. “What, would you rather the whole town face the consequences instead?”

I sigh and take in the cool autumn air.

I normally enjoy the season. The sound of crisp leaves stomped underfoot is so refreshing to my ears. And it’s nice that there’s a happy medium between the torment of summer and the freeze of winter.

But it’s been hard lately.

I suppose I can’t blame them, as I discreetly stand.

I think one of them actually notices me, and I hope he feels bad.

They don’t want to die. I don’t want to die, either.

I haven’t been given my death sentence, but I’m just waiting for it to drop.

I breathe deep, trying to calm myself. How do I want to spend my final days?

Walking forward, I find the aroma of the soap shop too intoxicating to resist and step inside.

I’ve always loved the decoration here. It can be challenging to integrate light sources into these wooden shops without it seeming out of place, but the candles are nestled well into the displays in such a way that they don’t feel disjointed. Adding to that, the whole store is made up of the pink tones of cerasus wood, giving it a calming vibe.

I always come here when my mind is spinning out of control and I can’t find my center. Today, though, I’m not sure it will help.

Would anything?

I rub my hands over the herbs, taking in their smell and texture. Soap has always been such a joy to me.

If I felt like it would get used, and if I had any money, I might buy something here. But I don’t know how much longer I’ve got, and my parents have already seized my money.

I notice a swarm of small, fluttering insects on my way out of the shop, filling the sky and covering the moon. It’s strange and ominous.

Even a small bit of powder removed from their wings will render them flightless forever. But they don’t know how vulnerable they are. They don’t even think about it.

“It’s pretty late for a walk, isn’t it?”

I turn. Standing there is my sister, Edie.

The eyes of the elderly men are already bearing down upon her lasciviously. I hate them.

And I kind of hate her, too.

For as meager and frail as I am, she’s always gotten the better genetics. Prettier face. Curvier body. Happier disposition.

“You’re out here, too,” I reply. “So don’t even give me that.”

“Relax,” she says. “I’m just here because Mom and Dad are wondering where you are.”

“Afraid I’ll run off, are they?”

She laughs. “That’s ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.”

“You can laugh about it all you want, because you know it isn’t gonna be you.”

I can tell by how she carries herself. I know by the cheerful tone she’s still carrying.

She’s not worried. And why should she be?

“It could be me though! Why couldn’t it be?”

I gesture widely to the open space.

“Look around you. Every man in this town wants to be with you!”

She puts on a face of mock outrage. I think if she ever genuinely felt a negative emotion she might shrivel up like the leaves.

I smile at the thought.

Another leaf for me to step on.

“I don’t like what you’re implying.”

“Meanwhile, I’m barely noticed. ‘Poor little Lucy can’t do anything right.’ Or is it Luella? Or Leslie?”

I say it loud enough for the elderly men to notice. They get up and leave.

It doesn’t even bother me that I’m making a scene. Anything to get noticed might help my chances.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Edie asks. “We can talk about this at home if you want. But you’re my sister. I love you. I don’t want to fight.”

I shake my head, still processing her audacity.

She always has to be the bigger person. Always willing to extend a branch my way, offering forgiveness, and hope, and blah blah blah. She always has to be the perfect one. Always doing and saying the right thing. Always the focus of everybody’s attention.

I’m tired of her. And the only reprieve if I get sent away is that at least I won’t have to look at her anymore.

And she won’t be the last thing I see before I die.

“I’m sorry,” I lie. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said those things. Let’s not fight.”

She holds out her arms, and I very reluctantly fall into them. She embraces me tightly.

It’s vaguely comforting. I just wish it was genuine. Deep down, I know that the only thing Edie really cares about is herself.

At least she smells bad, I think. The consolation does satisfy me somewhat.

“Let’s go home.”

She offers it as a suggestion, but I know, deep down, that she’s been ordered to bring me back.

Edie takes my hand in hers and starts to walk back up the mountain path.

I pull away.

She looks like she might want to scream at me by instinct, but of course, Edie denies that natural urge in order to be patronizing instead.

“What’s wrong?”

“You go ahead, Edie,” I suggest. “I thought I might hang around here for a bit. Take in my last days.”

She shakes her head.

“You know that’s not –”

“I do know, Edie. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s going to be me.”

She turns her back toward me. “We’re not discussing this again.”

I silence the urge to continue arguing with her about it. There’s no point.

“Tell Mom and Dad I’m sorry and that I’m not going to run off. I just need to get my head in order.”

She turns back toward me, pleading this time. She’s got a single tear in her eye.

Edie has always been great at faking emotions that don’t belong to her.

“You know they’re not going to listen,” she insists. “You know how Dad gets.”

“Then try for me, please,” I insist. “Maybe you’ve convinced yourself I’m safe, but I need to sort myself out.”

She shakes her head.

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll take the heat for you. Just be safe.”

I chuckle at the thought.

There’s nothing in this town more threatening than what’s coming for me. As she heads out, I actually shadow her, watching her from a distance until she reaches the fork in the main road.

That girl hasn’t got a single worry.

Thing is, I’m not actually sure what I’m going to do out here. I might be happier at home.

I look out over the vast ocean from where I stand on the cliffside. The rushing tides give me a sense of peace.

And the chittering insects become louder still, drowning out the calm.