We shuffled together down the alley, working our way toward a halo of light, a haven of safety, at least in my mind. Leading me this way may have saved our lives, my Queen was wise. I glanced down at her, my life, my love. She stopped me, shock in her eyes, I followed her gaze down her body, the chilled wind blowing her coat to the side enough for me to see her soft curves, and, a dark stain. Panicking I began searching her, praying I hadn’t failed in my task, her hands, a shiny dark and bright red. Despite her objections, I looked at her for the source. Pushing me back, she just pointed, words far from her now. I looked down and saw that the warrior was skilled at last. As I noticed the smooth cut in my shirt, just above the belt, I felt the pain, creeping in waves, sickening, alternating dull and sharp twinges. Quickly, I gathered my shirt up, pressing it in the wound, and then, dropped. Grabbing my stomach and blinking back the pain, I began to breath in short bursts, breathing deep hurt like hell. I didn’t see him at first, but then seeing his concerned face revealed by the light of our refuge, I realized that my Queen had arranged to meet someone. I started going in and out of reality. I see my Queen, so beautiful, even under all the commotion she maintained control, then I closed my eyes, opening them in slowly shorter intervals, the lights blurring, becoming parts of a lucid dream. I hear her voice, I am here my queen, are you safe? Her safety was still, even though in spurts, part of my reality. Voices are muffled, lights blurring, feelings numb and distant, I close my eyes one last time. This is why I work my mundane, back breaking job, so I might give my life for her, and escape from the listless world that was mine, outside this Queen’s castle.
A friend of mine shared this with me: