PRINCELESS by Cam Jace Storykiller
Copyright©by Cameron Jace
January 15 2019
The shooting never stopped. No one came for her. Cries and curses everywhere. It took her too long to realize she could cup out the noises with her hands on her ears. But then someone else's hands snatched her from the waist and lifted her up.
The princess’ eyes sprang open, clutching onto her savior’s neck. Now she saw the world from a different angle.
A long corridor with long flickering neon lights over a white floor and walls. People lay in awkward positions upon the floor. Most of them wore white. That red liquid pooled everywhere.
She jostled to the running footsteps of whoever gripped her tight. She could not see her face, but knew it was a woman. She knew it was someone who would die for her, or her heart wouldn’t beat so frantically. The woman’s hair was a dirty blonde, and it smelled of what she would later learn were pineapples.
This world sucked. She wasn’t supposed to be here.
A door banged open. She squinted her eyes against that burning ball in the vast blue entity she would later recognized as the sky.
“You’ll be okay,” she heard the woman say.
Was she talking to herself or the princess, she didn’t know. But she saw they were approaching a line of heavy metallic boxes with doors on the sides and lots of glass windows. All kinds of different colors and shapes, stretched across a black floor.
Her savior stopped at one.
The sound of jostling keys.
“Shit,” the woman said.
That word stayed with the princess forever. An expression she later learned suited almost every occasion, good, bad, happy, angry and was even used to substitute an even cooler word called ‘poop.'
Over the woman’s shoulder, she saw the building’s door fling open. Men with big machines ran toward them. Cursing and shooting.
What was that fire oozing out of their machines?
Her heart dropped to her tiny knees as her savior ducked behind the metallic box with the doors on the side. She couldn’t tell what was happening exactly but her savior seemed to be doing something that made those men drop like the women from the crib.
She heard more bangs. The princess felt her saviors body throttle with every beat. Then more men dropped. She couldn’t see any of it. She didn’t want to.
An image of a bird on a tree branch occupied her instead. Such a sweet creature. Free and different, picking at worms from a tree. Was she a princess bird?
“You’re not going to take her from me!” Her savior shouted. A painful hoarse voice of a woman who had been in this world for too long.
The princess heard the door to the vehicle open. As her savior pulled her inside, she saw the bird on the branch was accompanied by another one. Something about the image sent her heart into a feeble flutter of butterflies. The last thing she saw was the two birds cuddling beak to beak.
“I won’t let them have you.” The savior said, putting her down on a seat next to her.
More key jostling.
A roar of the metallic box.
The box moved.
A screeching sound.
The savior operated a wheel in front of her to help them escape. The princess couldn’t stop looking at the savior woman. It was the first time she saw her face. The first time she laid eyes on her. The woman looked exhausted. Worn out. Sticky droplets of blood covered her face.
Was I in her womb? She couldn’t tell, but it felt good to know someone in this mess was going to take care of her.
A few minutes later, in a place void of bangs, the woman stopped the car. She breathed heavily, tucked her head between her hands and cried.
The princess wanted to reach out for her, but small were her hands. She wanted to thank her — and ask her what the hell was going on. Then she remembered those birds on the branches couldn’t speak like her, but only hummed. The Princess hadn’t learned to hum, so she did what she was best at — for now.
Her mother’s eyes drifted toward her. The princess loved those eyes. Those were the eyes she wanted to see. No sticky-sweet expectations. Just the truth. Just the pain. Just the love.
“I’m sorry,” her woman said. “This is the world I’ve brought you into.”
The princess stopped crying and wiggled her feet then smiled with her eyes.
And from the shrouded soul of her mother came out a snappy chuckle. Her bloody hand reached for the Princess and wiped away the blood droplets.
“You’re so beautiful,” her mother said.
It felt real. More than real.
Her mother said, “There’ so much I have to teach you, Venus.”
The princess wiggled more feet then…
What kind of name is that?
I don’t get to choose my name?
Damn it. I really liked ‘princess.'