Nobody knows. I have friends now, and I live amongst a sea of people that make up my world; and not a single one of them knows my story. They've never heard about Peter, or Edmund, or Lucy. I've never spoken of them at all, but it's not because I am ashamed of them. Not at all. Rather, I know now that I made an irreversible mistake then, and this life I am living now is only my just punishment. I refused to acknowledge Aslan's existence, and so now I live in a world without him. It is poetic justice, really, that everything I ever loved has gone away without me, because I refused to go. I wanted to live only in this world, and so it is. He gave me what I wanted.

So now I know that I never really wanted this at all; now I know that all I ever wanted was to see Aslan again. For both right reasons and wrong reasons, I wanted to be Queen of Narnia again, and once I was denied that I lashed out in immature anger. And Lucy cried for me, but I was not moved. Edmund reasoned with me, but I was not convinced. Peter fought for me, but I did not surrender.

But now I have gotten what I said I wanted, and the world I live in now has no room for fairy tales or lions. None of the people who are my friends would ever believe that I was Queen of a country, or even that other worlds exist beyond ours. So I do not tell them, because to share that deep part of my heart and have it rejected would be devastating. And every time I think that, I wonder how it is that Lucy found the strength to keep offering her most precious memories up for me to scorn.

Nobody knows me here, as anything other than plain Susan. I am nobody special, just another face on the streets and another person to call for events. And not a single person in the world thinks it is ironic that I, Queen Susan the Gentle of Narnia, legend of old, have been reduced to plain Susan of the streets, who doesn't even have a family. Nobody thinks that, because nobody knows.

I am alone here.

It's what I deserve.