"K." That's all the text said. After three years of dating, if someone accuses you of cheating, you'd think it would warrant more than "K" as a response. Agh, he doesn't care. None of them do.
Gwen fumbled with her keys. Just a few more steps. I can hold it together for just a few more steps. She slammed the door behind her, making a flimsy excuse for her rude behavior as she noticed her roommate sitting on the couch. Please don't talk to me. I can't hold it in much longer. Please, just watch your movie. Gwen rushed to her room, dug her cell phone out of her purse, and threw the tiny bag onto her bed. Stuffing the cell phone in between her breasts she climbed into her closet and crawled behind the clothes. Everything was dark, and Gwen could feel the walls of her tiny closet hugging her in a cold but supportive embrace. She pulled out her phone. They don't care. She kept thinking over and over to herself. It became her mantra as the tears she had been holding back began to flow freely. They don't care.
"They don't care," said the voice of a distraught young girl. "They don't care about my happiness or what's right. Please, don't let them take me away."
Gwen wiped away her tears and ventured a timid peak out of the window. No way. I must be dreaming. This….this is impossible. A woman was seated on a bed, gently stroking the hair of the young girl sobbing in her lap. The woman was beautiful with long blonde hair and piercing green eyes. The girl had very pretty auburn hair, although it had fallen loose from its braid. Both were wearing garb that didn't seem quite medieval, but it wasn't really renaissance style either.
"Don't worry, Sansa. I won't let anyone take you away from us." The woman's hands were embracing the girl lovingly, but the look on the woman's face was far from affectionate.
No freaking way. Are they who I think they are? Wait, am I dead? No, this isn't heaven. This is…Westeros?
Gwen, confused, eased herself back into the closet, which now felt more like an armoire. The clothes in front of her face were definitely not the ones in her own closet. It's a little hard to find Myrish lace at Forever 21. Gwen quickly pinched her nose and she felt a sneeze coming on. She didn't want to be discovered, and she certainly didn't want to be discovered by the green-eyed blonde sitting on the bed. And so there she sat, holding her nose, as Sansa told Cersei all about Ned Stark's plans to leave King's Landing.
That little brat. Should I say something? What if I did? Could I sneak away with the Starks and try and sort this thing out? This is silly. Westeros is a fictional place. There's no way I'm actually in Westeros. That would be ridiculous. Besides, would Sansa even listen to me? Probably not. If she didn't listen to her father, why would she pay any heed to the oddly dressed stranger hiding in her closet? Not to mention that Cersei would see me…and then probably kill me once she determined I was of no use to her. Stupid bitch.
Fortunately, the conversation did not last long. Cersei thanked Sansa for her courage and left, promising to visit soon, and posted two guards outside the door on her way out. Gwen felt something tickling her shoulder and freaked out when she realized it was a spider. Jumping out of the closet with a quiet but frantic "eeeeeeek!" she stumbled right into the lap of Sansa Stark. Gwen clamped a hand over the startled girl's mouth.
"It's ok. I'm sorry I was hiding in your closet. It's a long story. I promise I'm not going to hurt you. Can I trust you not to scream?" Sansa nodded, and Gwen removed her hand, but kept it close to Sansa's mouth…just in case.
"Who are you?" Sansa asked.