Chapter 2 - Angela

  Angela, or known to me as Angy, is the name of an old friend of mine, who I spent my time writing to when I was in the military. Before that, we spent every hour of every day together. We played with each other and went to each other's houses. She was about four years my elder, but that didn’t get in the way of us being friends. Things remained that way until I was 12, when probably the most significant point of our friendship happened, and that's when she suddenly disappeared. By that I mean literally, one day she was taken by some people and was just gone, never to be seen again. I went to her doorstep and all that was left for me was a note with an address, and a simple goodbye. I asked her father where she had gone, but he wouldn’t tell me. All he would say is “She’s gone.” and “She probably won’t be back.”, statements that left me with no hope of her return.

  Soon after that I was drafted into the military, a program called “Early Deployment”, which put kids like me into classrooms to learn about war, and trained us to be elite soldiers. Despite being in a classroom a lot of the time, we were still considered “military personnel” and had to do physical training with the grown ups. No matter what, the moment we were 16, we were sent off to war, thoroughly brainwashed and believing we were fighting for a grand cause against the “Evil South” that was Artenia. This meant that we would say goodbye to our older friends often, and eventually to our younger ones too as we went off to war.

  During my years in training I wrote letters to Angela, and I sent them to the address she left me, not really knowing if she received them. I still continued to send her her letters periodically after entering the war, we definitely didn’t have an influx of spare paper, or time, so I wrote only 49 total letters to her including the ones I sent during training. Things continued that way until The War ended, I sent her my 49th letter when we were put on hold amidst peace talks. Then I came home, where I have been placed into housing and a job by the government for the last six months.

  ~

  Seeing this “Princess Angela” on TV has no doubt shaken me up. In the military we just heard of a princess, no image or name was ever associated with her. She does look just like Angy, from her black hair, to her blue eyes, and even that scar she was always so self conscious of, it's all the same. But how can that be right? A princess? Beyond that, if she is Angy then where has she gone now? My mind continues to race with these questions, all without any definite answers. I am beginning to realize just how clueless about the world I really am. All I have is my childhood and then The War, and that's it, that's all I have experienced, that’s all I know.

  With no end in sight to these questions, I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm my mind. Taking two steps backwards and sitting back down on the couch, I look up to the ceiling.

  “Angy huh…?” I say resolutely, yet still questioning my reality.

  I can feel my consciousness slowly fading, the adrenaline dump from all this stress seems to have hit me hard. Before I fall into unconsciousness I can think one thing.

  “Aw man, I still have some beer left…” I say as my exhaustion takes over and I fall into the pits of unconsciousness.

  …

  *BANG*

  A loud noise pries my eyes open as I shoot up immediately. My eyes dart around the room to find the source of the loud noise, sweat begins to pour over my face and into my eyes, causing my eyes to sting and forcing me to blink repeatedly. Nothing, there is nothing in my room that could have caused that noise. I rolled off the couch, confused and still dazed.

  *SMASH*

  Another noise fills my ears. Glass? There is no mistaking it, the noise came from the street outside. I crawl to my window and crack it open without peeking outside.

  “Ya damn fool!” A scratchy voice says in a whisper-like shout. My eyes squint in confusion, I haven’t ever heard this voice before.

  “S-s-sorry bro I’s n-nervous!” Another voice stutters loudly.

  “Shut. The. Fuck. Up!” The voice of the first man is now in a full shout

  “What are you crazy?! Are you trying to wake one of these God forsaken psychos up?!” He shouts, referring to us who have just recently returned from war and prone to panic, such as the one I am currently in.

  “S-sorry bro I’s really am!” The second man's voice says, still in a shout.

  “Oh my God are ya kidding me?! You’s kidding me!” The first man yells as a smacking sound echoes through the streets.

  “Y-Yeowch!” The second man exclaims.

  As soon as the second man was seemingly slapped, hurried footsteps approached where those two men were standing.

  “Eppie, apologize to Hippie!” A woman's voice exclaims, her voice exerting a strength that the first man's voice lacks, sending a shiver down my spine.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Miss I’s gets ya concern for my’s dumbass brother, I’s really do, but his fuck ups are gonna end up… well… fuckin us. Heh.” The man Eppie seems to chuckle at his phrasing.

  I glance over at the clock sitting amongst a graveyard of smashed beer cans. The numbers on the clock reads “12:04 am”. I scratch my head in frustration

  “Only 2 hours… really?” I say quietly.

  At this point it is more frustrating that some weirdos who have no sense of time are waking me up at three in the morning. I begin to rise slowly, and as I finally get a glimpse of the people I only heard up until now I stop, now only peeking out of the window.

  “Stop with that language, Eppie, this is no joke.” The woman shouts, now visible to me.

  “Now apologize.” The woman stares Eppie down.

  My eyes widen at the sight of her. Dark hair, blue eyes, even the scar, in full view! The woman standing outside of my window is without a doubt the missing Princess Angela! She is wearing commoners clothing, my guess is she is in disguise. This means she was probably not taken, but that she ran away. I still am unsure on whether or not this princess is MY Angy, but in contrast to the self conscious girl that left our village 10 years ago, this woman stood tall, and I don’t just mean figuratively, she towered over the two men. If I were to guess I would place her at just under 6 feet, maybe even surpassing it. Such a towering figure makes the inclination of her being Angy slightly sink into my doubtful heart, but people change, and Angy may have gone through a massive change.

  “M-m-miss Angela I’s sorry! Tis all m-my’s f-fault!” The man Hippie stutters his way through an apology.

  “Ya dumbass! Why’s ya screamin her name out in the open!” Eppie yells.

  The man, Hippie is a lanky man, Eppie in comparison to his apparent brother, is almost a complete sphere. They look similar, kind of… cartoonish? Even their outfits are similar, raggedy tuxedos, with Eppie’s jacket unbuttoned fully. Their noses protrude about 4 inches off their faces, and their eyes are naturally squinted under their brows, which also protrude a couple inches off their face, and their skin looks slightly gray and inhuman. They look entirely bizarre, to say the least.

  “Enough!” Princess Angela shouts

  “This foolishness is getting us nowhere. We must make haste, Dane is awaiting our arrival.” The princess says, and they begin to rush into an alleyway.

  “Dane? As in Prince Dane of Artenia? Is he in on this? The hell is going on?” I ask myself out loud, in utter confusion.

  Prince Dane is the man that Princess Angela is supposed to marry, but this situation is not making any sense. Prince Dane is from Artenia, the country we were at war with all this time. The two of them were probably gonna be wed as a way to express peace between our countries… So why? Why are they running away? Together… they are running away together…?

  Before I can stop myself I open the window entirely and jump out into the open street. I run full sprint into the alley that the three of them disappeared into, but there is nothing there. I sprint further down the alley. My gaze darts around into all the other connecting sub alleys, no sign of her. Before long I am just running, without looking, with thoughts racing in my mind. The thoughts are saying “Why is MY friend running away from ME?”, and I know this is wrong, this might not even be Angy, and even if it is, she probably forgot about me long ago, not to mention there is no way she even knows I am following.

  “Hurry up ya fool!” The familiar voice of Eppie erupts from a sub alley that I ran past.

  I stop in my tracks and sneak to the corner and peek into the sub alley.

  “Ahh, I-I haven’t ever been s-so glad to hear such a-a terrible voice.” I say in a whisper and chuckle as I try to catch my breath.

  *shuffle*

  I hear a slight noise behind me

  “That so?” a voice says in my ear.

  I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I jolt upwards, and before I can even turn I am struck on the head. Instantly my vision is dazed, and I crash to the floor.

  “Dane!” Angela yells, her voice muffled and barely piercing through my ringing eardrums.

  “What’s up Lovely, can’t see that someone's tailin 'ya?” The man who seems to be Dane says in a smug tone.

  Through the haziness I look up at the man who struck me, it is most definitely Dane, The Prince of Artenia, I can tell that much even through the haze.

  Dane is a tall man, much taller than me. He has messy black hair, but it is messy in an intentional way that makes him look dashing to your average fangirl. His eyes are ice blue, with a gaze that peers into your soul and digs out your greatest insecurities. He is muscular and his legs are the brunt of his height. He is virtually the guy of any girl's dreams, aside from his smug jackass personality. I had seen him on the battlefield once, where he charged into warfare, right at the front, with his battalion at his back.

  ~

  On a particular day, near the end of the war, we had just got done with a bloody advance, only to gain a miniscule 200 yards of ground. We were all exhausted, I was among a small number of men who were not injured. I was tending to a friend, Paul, who was shot in the knee, and suddenly all I heard was screaming and explosions. I peeked over the trench only to see The Artenian fucking Military back for another round.

  Before I knew it we were overrun, the soldiers laughed as they held us at gunpoint, they looked at us like we were cattle, ripe for butchering. Then I heard a voice yelling about “taking prisoners”, ridiculing the soldiers aiming at us for wanting to kill us, I looked towards the voice only to see the damn Prince of Artenia, Dane. We locked eyes for a moment, and suddenly, almost instantaneously I am blasted about 20 feet in one direction.

  With my ears ringing and dust in my eyes I sprawled all over, trying to find somewhere, anywhere to hide, and when I did I rubbed the dirt from my eyes. A mess of body parts and I mean it, arms, legs, fucking torsos just strewn all throughout my surroundings. I was slightly relieved to be free from the grasp of the Artenian soldiers, but that relief didn’t last long. I looked right beside me at something I grasped hold of in all the panic, and it was a head, one belonging to Paul, my friend.

  I didn’t see Dane after that artillery shell hit us, and it turns out that the artillery shell belonged to us, The Eccacians, and Paul had died from friendly fire. Though none of our dead comrades were ever officially killed by friendly fire in the records. I know that it must’ve happened many times before, only to be buried, and any whistleblowers were silenced before they can even get to someone to tell their story for them.

  ~

  My vision drastically declines, though delayed I am certainly on my way to sleep. The four of them speak to each other in semi-loud voices, but the ringing in my ears grows louder and I am unable to tell what they are saying.

  “A-Angy…” I mutter, unable to see and unable to hear. A commotion is happening, but it is too hard to tell for sure.

  “W-wait!” I can make out a woman's voice shouting now.

  “Is that you?!” she shouts again, as my vision clears up for just a moment.

  “Zee?!” The voice becoming more clear, it calls my name, I can now tell it belongs to Princess Angela. Her voice now resembles that of a young girl, a voice I remember.

  My eyes widened at the exclamation of my name. I can make out the image of Princess Angela being pulled away by the three men. I weakly reach out my arm, almost entirely sure now of who that woman is. My strength wanes as my vision starts to go again.

  “Is that you…?” I mutter with the last of my strength, as I sink entirely into the void.