The Kingly Thing to Do
By The Meepy Freak
You are a terrible person. That is the only thought coursing through your head constantly. You try to ignore it, yet it is impossible. Your flaws poke you, reminding you that they exist every second of every day. Your thoughts bully you, and soon you start to think that you are losing your mind. However, you know one thing for sure. You are losing the war. However, this isn't a normal war. This is a war inside your head.
You can feel the tiny bullets graze your skull as you sit in the dining table with your siblings. Your head is pounding like crazy, and you desperately want to take your crown off. You want to itch your hair until it hurt. You wish to die. You do not deserve to live. You were supposed to die when She stabbed you with Her wand.
It is terrible to think of Her now, yet you cannot stop. All the insults She threw at you hurt. They are swords piercing through your heart, not because they are false but because they are all true. You are a selfish brat, yearning for attention. You are just a spoiled child, crying when one little thing does not go your way. You act younger than Lucy, and you are about two whole years elder to her!
Nevertheless, you cannot change yourself. You have desperately tried, constantly studying the books in the library, but in reality, you can never concentrate. You try to direct your attention to the different scrolls, yet the words slowly become a jumble of letters in front of your own eyes. You feel hopeless. How would anyone benefit if you keep on living? You are worthless anyway.
However, you would never tell that to Peter. He would go berserk, spouting out random compliments. Peter would try to make you feel better. You do not want to improve. You are finally getting what you deserve. You want to torture yourself for your actions. So what if you cannot stand the pain? In the end, it does not matter anyway.
"I went to Mr. Tumnus's house again today," your younger sister Lucy intrudes your thoughts while eating her meal. She has a smile plastered on her face that you yearn to have on your own.
Suddenly, Susan, your elder sister, spoke up, glaring daggers at both you and Peter, "That is great Lu, and what did the rest of you do?"
You shift in your seat. You can never tell your siblings about your suffering. They would just bounce compliments your way. That would only make you feel worse since nowadays every compliment only seems false in your mind. Everything seems forced and unwelcome.
Peter glances at you before responding, "Oreius and I were talking about the sword fighting training. Apparently, Ed is a natural with two swords whereas I need a little more work."
The words are slurred because Peter is chewing while speaking, only to earn a frown from Susan, yet that is not what is bothering you. Peter is looking at you. He mentioned you. Did he just say you were great with two swords? You sigh as you wait for the tingling sensation of pleasure to approach you. However, it does not come.
There is no emotion in your face, and you feel like a statue, a mindless statue. You feel out of place, lonely even, with your family sitting right in front of you. You start to panic as you look down to see your plate. You realize you are merely dragging the food along the plate with a fork. Not a morsel of the food on the plate has even gotten close to touching your mouth. Truthfully, you do not even feel hungry. Also, you definitely do not want to talk.
"Excuse me," you say while standing and pushing your chair into the table. You surprise yourself with the softness of your voice, yet you remain emotionless.
In the corner of your eyes, you see Peter nod slowly and Susan bite her lip, yet you only walk to the door. As you exit the tension-filled room, you can feel three pairs of eyes on you. However, that does not matter anymore. You are finally free from the stress. You sigh in relief as you run into your room, close the door, and lie on your bed.
Truthfully, you hate sleeping. Nightmares always find some way to crawl into your dreams and scare you out of bed. However, right now, you just want to feel emotion. You do not care whether the emotion is negative or positive. You just need to let go. You need to be shameless and courageous.
A few tears make their way down your cheek as you struggle to remain quiet. You fear your siblings will hear you if you cry. The dining room is not too far away. You bite your lip to stop the sudden emotion. You are a king now. Kings do not cry. Kings have to remain strong and keep an open-minded countenance. You have to be a king.
It is all pretend though. It is only an act. Inside, you are a traitor, and you always will be no matter what anyone else says. You betrayed your siblings for sweets. Sure, you loved Turkish Delight, and you relished the attention, but it still shows the kind of person you are. You are just as evil as the White Witch if not worse!
The door to your room opens wide, and you suddenly cover the blanket over your face. You wipe the tears and blink your eyes a couple of times to make future tears vanish. Clearing your throat, you feel the blanket being pulled off your head, and you see your brother, the magnificent.
"Ed," Peter starts, "I may be dumb, but I know when something is wrong with my brother."
You watch as Peter laughs at his own joke. Why couldn't the overprotective git just leave you alone?
"You haven't been eating for days, and you have only been sulking either in the library or in your room for the past few weeks," Peter stares at you in concern. "Everyone is worried about you Ed."
You sigh. You do not want to have this conversation now. Honestly, you never want to have this conversation.
"I come to the lessons," you try, smiling weakly. By the look on Peter's face, this gesture only motivates him to lecture you longer.
"Ed-"
"I'm fine Pete," you cut him off. You glance at the door, hoping he gets the clue.
Suddenly, you realize your mistake as your brother's eyes widen. You called him Pete. You groan. Now, he is definitely going to stay. Inside your head, you pound yourself for being so stupid. You only call him Pete when you are really in trouble, and he knows that.
"Slip of the tongue?" you bite your lip. Why did you have to say that?
"Ed," you are about to intrude, but Peter silences you with a glare, "there is obviously something bothering you, so do not even try to hide it. Now, I will not leave until you tell me what is wrong!"
Peter's temper is rising, and you know it. When he uses that tone, he is serious. You sigh. All you wanted was to be alone. Plus, you definitely do not want to tell your brother your idiotic emotions. You do not deserve comfort from him anyway. Also, if Peter got angry, it is definitely not worth the risk.
Finally, you move to the inside of the bed, giving Peter room to lie down, "Then, lie down since I will never tell you."
Peter begrudgingly sat on the bed next to you. His nose wrinkled as his face warped into a combination of a frown and a smirk. You have seen that face before. Peter always makes that face when he is being stubborn, with no resolve of giving up.
You try to ignore him, but his loud breathing makes that impossible. Honestly, you want to leave the room, hop off your bed, but Peter is holding you down. He is hugging you as if you are a stuffed animal. You hope to feel comfort of this notion, but instead, you only realize the absence of pleasure.
"Shut it," you wince. Why do you have to be so mean?
Nevertheless, Peter only grinned at your discomfort and made more noise.
"I will not 'shut it' until you tell me what is wrong."
You feel tears pierce your eyes, but you refuse to let them drop, not in front of Peter. He would either tease you about crying or follow you around worrying like an additional shadow. Both choices are terrible scenarios you do not want to experience.
"Peter-"
You cannot speak. It is like somebody is holding your tongue so everything you say comes out as a blur. Your eyes also decorate the room with uneven black spots as you look away from your elder brother. You feel water trail down your cheek, and you look down into your blanket ashamed.
More tears fall, and you are trying desperately to remain silent. You refuse to look up at Peter, fearing his reply. However, before you can stop him, Peter lifts your head by your chin and turns you in his direction. Still, you avoid his eyes as tears cascade down your cheeks. Your mouth is quivering, yet you keep it shut.
Surprisingly, Peter does not say anything. You can feel his gaze leave you for a second as Peter envelopes his arms around you. He pulls you into his chest, and your lips separate in agony. You endlessly sob into your brother's chest, releasing screams of hatred towards yourself. You finally let all your emotions out as you slowly dehydrate yourself. You stop worrying about Peter's reaction as he only hugs you tighter, muting your horrendous screams with his wet tunic.
You look up and peer into his eyes, afraid of what you will see. You are still crying heavily, and your vision remains blurry, yet your curiosity controls you. You see the deep blue of Peter's eyes that you were always jealous of before and freeze.
You expect to see fear or concern, maybe even anger. However, Peter's eyes are filled with understanding. The look comforts you as you hug Peter back and promise in your mind to tell your elder brother everything. Peter would always be there for you. No matter what treacherous acts you do. He forgave you easily after the Battle of Beruna, accepting you for who you are. Why would that change now?
Peter knows you more than you know yourself. Also, he loves you with all of his heart. This new thought counteracts the old negative thoughts you have slowly accepted as truth. Aslan's faith finally shines through your body, fighting these misconceptions. The sudden love fills you with pleasure, even if the feeling only lasts for a second. You are slowly healing. You still feel sad, but you are getting better.
However, even if your guilt-filled emotions overrule you in the future, Peter will always be there to comfort you. He will always hug you tight and kiss your forehead in a loving manner. You smile a little as hope courses through your body. Slowly, your eyes close, and your vision is only black. Unconsciousness overcomes you as you fall to a deep slumber in your elder brother's arms.
That entire night, nightmares do not haunt you for the first time in what seems like years.