Tyrant

(𝟷𝟸) 𝚃𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢

My pale blue sundress billows around me, the midday sun softly kissing my skin, the gentle breeze tickling my cheeks. 

"Your dress matches the sky!" A young, familiar voice calls out, and I look to the source of those merry words. There stands my best friend, his blue jeans and yellow t-shirt bright and colorful in the golden rays.

"And you're wearing the same color as me, Caspian!" I giggle, pointing to my blowing dress then to his pants. His innocent, toothless smile has me crossing my arms mockingly, playfully. "Blue is reserved for me." 

"You can't reserve a color, that's against the law!" Caspian states as a matter-of-factly, looking distraught.

"I'm just messing with you, Cas." I laugh, the sound getting lost in the wind as he joins in, our sounds of joy intertwining and merging as one. 

"Kids! The fruits are ready!" The melodious voice of my mother calls to us from afar, and Caspian and I turn to see her sitting on a checkered white blanket in the grass, my brown-eyed father perched by her side. Caspian's parents sit opposite mine, smiles dancing on everyone's faces as they converse comfortably.

The picture of serenity, of contentment.

"I'll race you!" Caspian challenges as he dashes forward, getting an unfair head start. I yell after him as I follow, the smooth rushing wind blowing at my grinning face and long, honey-brown hair.

Caspian and I, two pure, delightful children, race each other through the lush green grass, eager for food to fill our empty little bellies, love to fill our needy hearts. 

"I won!" Caspian shouts as he crashes into his father's back, earning a yelp from the emerald-eyed man and a delicate chuckle from the beautiful woman beside him. The other two adults on the large picnic blanket press their lips together to hold back laughter as father scolds son. 

"Not fair! You got a head start!" I remark with a pout and cross my arms, my silver bracelet catching light with the movement. Caspian only giggles, undiluted glee skipping in his chocolate-colored eyes.  

The sight of a bowl of fruits so fresh and colorful sends Caspian and me squealing, and our parents hand us each a paper plate piled with cut up strawberries, bananas, apricots, grapes, and cherries. We both happily plop ourselves on the silky grass, loving the feel and smell of it as usual. One of the many things we have in common. 

"Wait!" Caspian's mother calls out as I am about to plop a juicy red strawberry in my mouth, and I look to her smiling face. "The weather is perfect, and you guys are on spring break, aren't you?"

My friend and I simultaneously call out, "Yeah!" 

"So this moment deserves a picture!" The woman declares, her short brown hair blowing around her like milk-chocolate fountain. Her husband chuckles at the sight of her billowy hair, then gently smooths it down for her. She rolls her eyes playfully as my own parents laugh, then pulls out her phone.

"Can the best Cas and Fifi in the entire world say cheese?"

My best friend pulls me into a side hug as we both give the camera an adorable, toothy smile, green grass playing around us and colorful fruits in our lap.

"Cheese!" 

~~~~~

I wake up feeling like I had been dunked underwater multiple times—even my cheeks feel damp, and I wonder why as I look upwards at a brown ceiling, my vision still a bit blurry, my breathing coming out in deep pants. 

Not in pain.

I slowly, slowly sit up, my muscles aching like fire, my brain a bit clouded from the medicine. I gradually remember the fierce training, the grave stab from that traitorous rebel—