Before we start the last chapter, I just want to thank everyone for your reviews, favorites, and follows. I'll let you read, and I hope to see you in "The End!"

Matthew's POV

The road is so long. I'm walking down the pavement with my hands in my pockets. The buildings are reduced to gray rubble, and I cough and try to fan the dust away with my hand. The house I know so well is just a pile of debris; glass, marble, stone. I wonder if the shiny black piano Michael had always played is part of the wreckage I see before me. I wonder if my violin is shattered to pieces, like my heart and my life. I feel so lost, and all of a sudden, I'm not in Honduragua anymore.

I'm in an empty room with metal walls. I bang on it, but it only echoes. I realize that it's hollow for it to make that noise. I search the room, trying to see if any crevice holds the weapon that will help me escape. Then King Henry enters the room wearing lavish purple robes. He points at my feeble attempt to catch the door behind him that is quickly closing.

"You will die soon," he says menacingly. "And not because of me." He throws his head back and laughs like a maniac. Prince Alexander enters the room, tugging on his father's robes.

"Father, father, you cannot tell him. You can't be the one to tell him."

"Tell me what?" I beg. "What's wrong?"

"Three years left, little naïve prince," King Henry says taking a step toward me. I take one back.

"Get away from me. I'd have anybody else in this room, except for you."

He shrugs. "Suit yourself." Henry snaps his fingers, and the lights shut off. It's pitch black. Suddenly, a scream erupts right next to my ear.

God, no. Not again. I hate this. I hate this so much. The pained screams echo in the room and I yell, "Tess! Tess, where are you?!"

"Matthew! Matthew, help me!" The lights flicker on, and she is sitting in a chair several feet away from me, with her wrists tied behind her. And standing beside her is Henry, a giant knife in his hand. He holds it to her throat, and Tess screams again, sounding like she is an inch away from me. God, it's so painful. It hurts so much just looking at her it's physically hurting me. My heart hammers in my ears, and I clutch my chest. It hurts so bad. The giant knife suddenly moves to the exact center of my chest.

I'm on the ground, curled up in the fetal position. Why is the knife in my hands? I would never kill myself. Henry stands above me, his foot at the hilt, pushing it deeper.

"Stop it! Stop it!" My cries mix with Tess's. It's almost as if we're singing, harmoniously and in sync. Except this isn't a ballad; it's a lament, an unending, wailing dirge that threatens to swallow the world.

I shoot up out of bed yelling, my hair plastered to my forehead in sweat. My chest still hurts. It hurts so bad. I feel like my heart is burning, and it's on fire, and I want it out of me. I curl up, wanting to feel small for once in my life.

What is happening to me?!

"Matthew? Matthew!" I think it's my dad. His brown eyes are warm and welcoming, and I'm suddenly craving chocolate brownies. But his eyes are scared and worried, and I don't want chocolate anymore. "Matthew, son, what's wrong?"

I struggle for breath. My vision dims and fades around the edges. "Daddy," I say weakly, like a frail child.

And suddenly, I can't concentrate anymore. What would Tess think? Would she think I'm tired and feeble and incapacitated? And I just yell because the pain is intense, and I feel like I'm dying, like I am supposed to die. More people fill the room. They all look scared, and they're staring at me as if I'm an extra-terrestrial. Why are they staring at me?

I just want to go home. "Dad, I love you," I whisper.

My chest will explode. And I can't

The End