~Author's Note~

Heyahh! Thank you soo much! For the reviews again! I really am working hard to make this story brilliant and exceptionally coming out of my head. wat. Okay, so in this whole chapter, America's the one narrating . Okay? Okay. (note the TFIOS quote)

P.S. The reason why in the last sentence in the last chapter America didn't recognize Aspen was because she was too lost in her nightmares and delusions to actually sink back carefully in reality. So when she saw Aspen, she thought that it was just some weird and crazy nightmares.

"Lady America has been in this state, for almost 3 whole days now , your Majesty." someone -a soothing male voice- replied.

"When will she wake up?" a cool commanding voice asked. Maxon. I knew immediately that it was him. From the first time that I met him, his voice was always in control. Superior.

"From the great amount of blood that she loss and the strike at her head, it was hard to tell. But fortunately Lady America arrived here just in time for us to cleanse her and purify her wounds." the doctor said with a tinge of proudness present in his voice.

"So will she be alright?" Maxon asked with a bit of irritation and exasperation.

I might say that I would be giggling like a happy school girl right now, if it wasn't for my body being completely immobile to my commands like. Hand, flick. But it will just stay numb and still. Right now, the only reason that I can hear them. Which will probably just be for a little while. Is because, my ears are the only obedient and functioning part of my body. So I turned my attention back to the conversation.

"Oh! Yes, Lady America will surely be alright, as long as we wait for her wounds to completely heal, and for her to rest her head. I have been told that a person won't heal if one is emotionally and mentally sick, so we need her to rest." the doctor reassured Maxon, with the kind of soothing voice that was meant for cornered or restrained puppies.

"Thank you. And if you may, can you please give me and Lady America a little privacy?" he added with a bit of irritation obviously present now in his voice. The Doctor, seeming oblivious to that fact, bowed gracefully to Maxon and walked out of the room. But before shutting the door, he added.

"And your Majesty, I was also told that a person in the condition of rest, will still be able to hear and understand the person talking. Good day to you, your majesty." He then closed the door without uttering another word. I think that Maxon may have said something in reply, but it was drowned out as I was then again. This time it's really annoying. Plucked up by the hands of sleep and dark.

~America's Nightmare~

The hands of darkness sent my flying through the void of dreamless escapes and nightmares.

This time as I opened my eyes it was a room.

Not like those past dreams of forests. Being chased to the point of tiredness by people with weapons. This time it was a room. Just like any other. Nothing too sentimental or symbolic about it. Just a room. But it was too plain for its own good. I dared myself to take a step further .

Click' Clock' Click' Clock' my heels tapped around the room. Echoing and bouncing off the walls.

There's a plain old bed out of what I think was Mahogany wood, and plain white cotton sheets. And there was also a box on top of it. Nothing more. Just those two thing inside the room. Excluding me of course. I moved closer, towards the end of the bed and touched the dusty top of the box. There was something familiar about it, yet I still didn't recognize it. But as I drew closer I saw the initials M.S. Maxon Schreave. I crinkled my brows in confusion. Now why would this be here? I never saw this box in my whole life. Well by life I mean. my time spent in the palace.

I sat down carefully at the edge of the bed and noticed that I was wearing a very simple cotton dress. It felt light and comfortable, I touched the cotton material and flattened out the creases. I snapped out of my dress reverie and touched the lid of the box, removing all of the dust that have gathered there. I held the edges of the lid and slowly opened it. As I set the lid down, I noticed that in the back of it there was a simple letter. Well not much a letter but a few words.

Just 5 words. I am ready to fight. What?! Fight? Maxon?! OKaaay. This is getting too weird.

So I stood up ready to go, when I saw the contents of the box. Whips and blades, freshly coated with blood. I gasped and stumbled back in suprised. Snap out of America. This is just a dream this isn't real. Just as I stopped my argument with myself, someone entered the room.

He wore the same clothes he wore before I went running towards the forest.

King Clarkson Schreave.

His eyes landed on me then on the whips. He grinned a devilish grin, filled with contempt and wickedness. Slowly he crept towards the bed and got one of the whips, still stained with blood. His eyes gleamed with mirth with what he was planning to do. Then he raised his hand with the whip and slashed it on me. But without saying these words first "It was a mistake for me to let you stay." And as the blade struck me I screamed and trashed, tears spilling in hot drops down my face and also feeling a hot burn on my right arm. Blood was oozing from it, in big ugly welting drops on the floor. He raised his hand for another lash of the whip- then I suddenly felt a light hand shaking me awake. Calling out my name in a husky voice. The voice seemed, male and familiar.

Maxon, Prince Maxon Schreave.

Then there it was again his voice calling out for me. Willing for me to wake up.

America!