"… But what if… Who I truly am… I do not accept…?"

"Then… It's blissful… Knowing that no one… Will ever have to see you."

Chapter 1 - Past:

I couldn't move. It was, as if, I were stuck. Just black for as long as the eye could see. That's all. My heartbeat was slow, as if I were perfectly calm, despite the fact I shouldn't be. My body, it chooses to move on its own. Walking straight, pointlessly wandering, almost as if I weren't even moving. Eventually, as it does every time, my body would once again stop. It was like… I was lost. I couldn't recall what had happened. In fact… I can't recall everything, per say. I know a lot, but none of it is important. None of it is… personal.

At one point, I could see myself. It didn't last long. Just long enough for me to see what I looked like. Eventually, I found myself standing still for the longest time, not a thought or movement, blankly casting my gaze upon what wasn't there.

From the darkness, people began to fade in. Two rows, one person aligned with another, all of them different besides one key factor. In one row, they had my eyes. In the other, they had someone else's eyes that I couldn't place my finger on. All of them were guys. The ones in my row always seemed to be taller than the slightly smaller guys in the other row. They were all calm. I knew none of them. There were 15 guys in each row. Although, they could be statues…

In the left row, the one closest to me looked completely different from me, nothing similar about them and me besides our eyes. As the people progressed, the guys on my left slowly began to look more and more like me, the last guy looking nearly identical. The ones across from them looked like…

… I don't know. What is this?

Somehow, somewhere deep inside of me, I unintentionally took a step forward. The heavy sound of my footstep echoed, loud and apparent. None of them seemed affected, as if not noticing.

The two rows of people were spaced out fairly well; leaving the size of what could have fit the red carpet between them, plus a railing on either side. So I just slowly made my way towards the people, utterly calm. Like… I knew where I was. As I drew closer to the first set of people, it felt as if every pair of eyes shifted to my form. I passed the first set of people. The second. The third. Now, I stop.

It was like a messed up horror movie. Solid black darkness, statues of people all around me, no knowledge of my whereabouts, and I just heard something behind me. As if… A pin were dropped. That's how silent it was, as if every little thing were dead. The one thing that didn't fit about this 'horror movie' was that I didn't feel in harm's way. I wasn't being threatened.

I turned anyways. The only thing on the ground was a crown, between the first two people. I didn't move, just stared, curious of its origin. Returning to where it'd been placed, I kneeled down to pick it up. Instead, it vanished as soon as I found it in my grasp. I shifted my vision towards the first two people. They were staring at me, blank and unreadable. The one that looked like me had the crown on his head. My vision faded back to eternal darkness. I was alone. It almost seemed like a movie, the way the images before me glowed faintly, flickering ever so slightly.

The man that looked like me was walking through a castle. He gave orders, even though he was only a prince. He controlled most of the kingdom though, much to his father's approval. Motherless and raised harshly, the prince was a near reflection of a perfect ruler. A perfect dictator. No one messed with him.

Slaves roamed the castle, worked from dusk till dawn, treated as if they weren't even human. The prince walked upstairs, heading down a long, empty hallway. Are slaves not allowed up there? Servants, all girls and around the boys age of 23, would walk by here and there, giving him flirtatious looks that he ignored completely. Eventually, he stopped, throwing a large, heavy pair of wooden doors wide open. There were slaves in there, male slaves, all working. The one that caught my eye was the one that looked like the male across from the prince in his previously frozen state. Almost, frozen state. The prince went right up to the slave driver, whom addressed him formally.

"The numbers in the kitchen are running short this week, I'll need to see your list of slaves and transfer one." The slave driver hastily handed over the clipboard in his hands. Skimmed over the list, and casting a glance around the room a few times, the prince carefully looked over all the information of each slave, studying their profile drawings closely. "I'll take him, it says he can cook." The prince determined, shoving the clipboard back into the slave driver's hands.

"Go ahead, your majesty." The slave driver took a step back, his tone mellow. The prince walked around him, heading straight for the boy. I believe the clipboard said his name was Jerry. Jerry was working, working hard, tense like every other worker in the large room. Casting his gaze upwards, Jerry froze at the sight of the approaching prince, shocked.

"Lucky you, you get to cook for a week, let's go." Stopping about 5 feet away, the prince crossed his arms, impatiently waiting. Jerry could only stare. "… Well?" Jerry blinked, quickly realizing he wasn't going mad and cleaning his hands, then approached with precaution. Jerry looked the same age as the prince.

Turning, the prince began to leave as Jerry quickened his pace to keep up with the long strider. Stopping and causing Jerry to freeze in response, the prince turned to Jerry, looking him over before making a face. "You're filthy." Jerry didn't respond. "You don't smell any better than you look either." The prince added, talking with himself now as he turned back around and continued walking. "Clean clothes and a bath, how quickly can that be done…? The better question is how long you need to cook, I guess it doesn't matter, I'm not very picky…" Pausing again, the prince glanced over his shoulder, eyeing Jerry's figure carefully. "… You'll wear some of my old clothing, we're short on time." The prince announced, continuing forward. Not long after, the prince opened up another door and disappeared inside the bedroom, his bedroom. Jerry didn't enter.

Soon returning with a bundle of clothes in his hands and slamming the door behind him, the prince tossed the clothing to Jerry, and then began proceeding on. Taking Jerry to a wash room, the servant girls currently on staff there got him washed up rather quickly, then showed him where he could dress. When Jerry appeared again, dressed in the prince's old clothing, the prince looked him up and down, not seeming very impressed, but shrugged and left, Jerry following. Returning downstairs, the prince led Jerry to the kitchen and left him to cook, sitting in the dining room. Jerry presented the prince with a meal 20 minutes later. Eating his food and seeming to enjoy it, the prince made no sign to thank Jerry.

As days and weeks went on, the prince slowly showed more compassion towards Jerry, to the point where he'd even smile for Jerry, and Jerry alone, as no one could make the prince smile. Jerry never smiled back. Jerry had been made a permanent part of the kitchen staff, though he was still a slave and wouldn't be free to leave the castle and return the next day, so it was almost as if nothing had really changed.

Whenever the prince was left alone, he'd sit down as his stomach turned, hugging himself, as if sick. I understood immediately what he didn't understand. He loved Jerry. The day the Prince, who I later learned was named Michael, decided to tell Jerry about how he felt, Jerry was as depressed as ever, not caring about the world. Jerry didn't even show signs of looking at the Prince. They were in the empty hallway of the second floor again, and Michael had Jerry just standing there, next to a window, just staring at him as Jerry stared at the floor. They were both silent.

"… If I may, why do you keep me?" Jerry's voice was so silent, it was almost as if he didn't have one, or hadn't used his voice in years.

"To whom do you ask that, yourself or I?" The prince's voice was just as mellow as it always was nowadays. He was never harsh sounding with Jerry. He didn't want to be.

"To you, Prince. Why do you keep me?"

"… I do not know." Michael gazed out the window, Jerry not seeming affected by the answer. "I simply wish to be around you… Jerry." Jerry's name was stated slightly louder than anything else, as Michael seemed to have lost Jerry's interest in the conversation. "Please look at me- I mean you no harm." Reaching out, Michael tilted Jerry's head up, locking their gazes. Jerry seemed somewhat surprised by the action, seeing as Michael never made any contact with his form, and if he did, it was simply to hold his hand. "I-… I enjoy your company, Jerry…" Intertwining their fingers, Jerry looked down to their hands, unsure as to what was going on. "I-… I mean… I-…" Jerry looked back up to Michael, not sure what to do. He wasn't supposed to touch the prince- not even the slightest. Yet here he was, holding Michael's hand in a public area, where anyone could see them. Michael stepped closer, just a little, causing Jerry's heart to begin pounding as he took slightly deeper breaths. Jerry didn't want to be hurt for touching the prince, but he couldn't disobey without punishment, so what was he to do? "Jerry… I… Um…" Michael couldn't get the words to form, the words he desperately needed aid from.

Jerry shifted his vision down the hallway for a split second, returning his vision to Michael. He once more shifted his vision away from Michael to stare down the hallway, at the approaching figure, the figure he didn't recognize as a worker from the castle. The figure was silent and cloaked, causing an uneasy feeling to wash over Jerry.

"Please, look at me Jerry." Michael requested as he cupped Jerry's cheek and returned Jerry's attention to him. Despite the fact Jerry so wanted to watch the figure, he tried his best to watch Michael instead. What if the figure wanted to kill Jerry for being so close to the prince? Jerry tried shifting his vision away again. "Jerry, please, focus on me." Michael requested as the figure drew closer and closer. A shaky breath left Jerry's lips as he once again tried his best to focus on Michael. "Jerry… I… I think… that… Um…" Jerry shifted his vision to the figure as whoever it was stopped. The figure pulled out a bow and cocked an arrow. His eyes widening, Jerry just stared, unable to move. "Jerry?" Michael tried, turning around.

The figure shot the arrow; hitting Michael between the eyes before Michael could even react, killing him instantly, and from there, the 'movie' faltered.

My vision disappeared, and I soon found myself back in the same area where I started, with all the people. But this time it was different. The figures weren't standing in a row; they were all spread out, everyone with their appropriate match and still in, what I take to be, chronological order, all sitting. Jerry and Michael were the ones closest to me, and they simply closed their eyes and smiled. I didn't move, staring them down. Shifting my vision to the next set of people, they were dressed in commoners clothing from some time back in history, like the clothing Jerry and Michael had been wearing. They were smudged in grime, but they were also smiling. There was a pitchfork in front of them. I slowly started towards them.