THE NEW SHORT THINGIE
I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS
*cue awkward dancing*
Okay, so for those of you who don't know / don't remember:
This is a new short series I'm writing
Anyway, our scruffily handsome thief protagonist is named Kray, and right now he's being punished by the law. Let's get started, shall we?
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“And stay in there, street scum!” A rough hand shoves me into the Pits. I fall, as usual, and land on my knees. Groaning, I slowly stand up, only to be knocked down again as Blue is thrown on top of me.
“Hey!” I exclaim. “Throwing me wasn’t too bad, but don’t throw Blue! That’s just cruel!”
“You’re one to talk about cruelty,” the owner of the hand laughs. Milligan steps into the light above me and spits. The disgusting wetness lands on my face. I resist the urge to wipe it off and instead lock eyes with the thief catcher. I give him my signature hard stare. Dangit, Blue, stop jumping around and licking the blood off of my knees. Stupid dog.
Milligan finally turns away, cursing under his breath. I smile and reach down to pet Blue. “Just us again, boy.”
The dumb mutt jumps up on me and knocks me down, licking my face. “Hey! Off, boy!”
“Back again, Kray?” the raspy voice comes from the tunnel beside me. I know who it is.
“I just couldn’t stay away from you, Nex,” I say winningly as I stand up. I turn around and spread my hands open wide. “I knew you’d miss me.”
“Heh,” Nex coughs. “You wish.” He’s acting friendly. I know he wants something. He coughs again, glancing shiftily at my belt. “Do you happen to have any bread, by any chance?”
“Nope.” I shrug, hoping the bread in my pocket won’t fall out. “Sorry old boy.”
“Well then.” The grimy thief turns away, uninterested. “Don’t expect me to bring you anything for dinner.”
“I knew you’d never be that kind to me, Nex.”
“Everyone hates you.”
“I hear it every day.”
Nex disappears into the tunnel, covering it with the camouflage cloth. I suppose the tunnels are the only good thing about the Pits. Legend says they were dug by a group of ambitious prisoners so they could communicate without yelling to the separate Pits. Nowadays, no one bothers to take inspiration from the feat of endurance--all the thieves are too lazy. For the same reason, none of the guards or thief catchers even know they exist. You can’t find something if you never explore, I guess.
I sigh and sit down cross-legged on the dirty floor. Blue nuzzles up to me. It’s getting late, and there’s no torches in the Pits. My stomach growls. As far as I know, there’s no one in the neighboring Pits who I’m friendly with or who might steal my meal, so I risk it. The bread is delicious--worth spending a night in this place. Then again, it’s practically my second home.
I was born and raised a thief and I’ll probably die that way too.
I try my best to smooth my faded, blue, and baggy pants. It doesn’t work. I think they’re permanently wrinkled. Not that I care; when you live on the streets you don’t have time to worry about clothes. Sleeping shirtless isn’t a big deal, so I take off my vest and ball it up, using it as a pillow.
Nighttime comes quickly, and I gaze up at the starless sky. If I’m lucky it won’t rain.
Blue nuzzles up next to me, his tail swishing contentedly. Stupid dog. I love him.
Merciful sleep comes quickly.
***************
The next thing I know, Blue’s woken me up with his incessant licking. “Stoppit!” I protest, pushing him away. “Leave me alone.”
He just sits down and wags his tail, stirring up a monster cloud of dust and dirt. I make a face at him and he wags harder.
Judging by the daylight, it’s still early morning. “Hey! Milligan!” I yell.
“Shut up, street scum!” the guard’s voice replies. “Milligan is off serving his King by catching scoundrels like you.”
I curse. I could have tricked Milligan into hauling me out of the Pits, but with him gone it will be harder to escape. I know how to do it, though. There’s so many thieves in the Pits, they never miss me. I am the Prince of thieves!
I strike a heroic pose and Blue barks. “Hush!” I scold. “Bad timing, boy. Now, let’s get out of here.”
Traveling through the tunnels isn’t hard--I know my way around. There’s one specific Pit I need to get to. It’s the one where the soldiers throw all the waste and food scraps, so no one ever goes there. Except me.
I tiptoe around the other sleeping thieves. Most of them are fat gamblers who squander their cheated money on women and food in one night and are thrown in here the next. Idiots. That’s not how it’s done.
It doesn’t take long before I’ve climbed out of the junk Pit and hoisted Blue out too. I smell even worse than normal, though. I don’t know what I stepped in, and honestly I don’t want to know.
“Hey!” I turn to see a guard running towards me. Oh great. It had to happen. Time to scoot.
I run with everything I have away from the Pits. Blue lopes beside me, his tongue lolling. He’s enjoying the early morning run. I’m not. Well, maybe I am. The adrenaline fills my veins and I find myself smiling.
The guard is puffing behind me. One of the advantages to being a street kid is that you know what clothes are good to run in, and the guard is not wearing good running clothes. I hop around to avoid falling in the few small Pits that are left. The guard is falling further and further behind me.
The main road is in sight! My thighs burning, I sprint toward it. If I can just get there, I’ll be able to run into the city.
Suddenly a procession comes into my line of sight. It’s headed straight into the city. This is perfect! Maybe I’ll be able to get lost in the train of horses and carriages and wagons and…this is a long caravan!
It’s slowly getting closer and my momentum isn’t stopping. I’m headed straight toward the most expensive looking carriage in the whole procession. Great. Tossing a glance behind me, I see that the guard is far behind. Blue will be fine, he’ll just run with the dogs at the back of the procession. With luck, the couple inside this carriage won’t mind a visitor.
In one smooth motion, I hop onto the step, swing open the door, and jump inside.
There’s a girly scream from behind me. Oh, so there’s a woman in here. Perfect. I turn to look at my new carriage mate.
I blink.
I blink again.
She’s--She’s gorgeous.
How did I get the most gorgeous one?
She looks about my age and has got a head full of brown curls in the most outrageously intricate updo I’ve ever seen. There’s even little diamonds in her hair! I wonder how much they cost!
Her lavender gown has a million little ruffles in it and looks silk, from what I’ve heard about silk. I wonder how much that costs, too. Her expression is very surprised and startled, one dainty hand to her breast. Look at those high cheekbones, would you.
Her eyes are grey, which surprises me. I would have thought that such a beautiful woman would have blue eyes…or something.
At any rate, now I’m in her ride. This could get interesting.
I’m pleasantly surprised there’s no gentleman in here with her. I act perfectly natural and sit down across from the woman. “Hello,” I say.
“H--Hello,” she replies uncertainly. “What are you doing here? You’re filthy!”
“I’m on the run from the law,” I smile. “What about you?”
“I’ve just come back from a ball,” she says, as if it should mean something. I raise my eyebrows to indicate it doesn’t. “Do…do you know who I am?” she asks.
“Nope.” I cross my arms and lean back. “For all I know, you could be the princess.”
She’s silent.
Then it hits me.
“Oh--Oh, you’re--oh no.” I run my hands through my dirty brown hair and dust falls out of it onto the really expensive looking carpet. “You’re the princess?”
She nods wordlessly.
I begin to curse, then stop myself. What am I doing, cursing in front of a lady, let alone the princess? I disgust myself sometimes.
“I--I’m so sorry,” I start. “I--”
“It’s not a problem,” the princess assures. She looks at me curiously. “You’re very dirty.”
She has good eyes. “That’s because I live on the streets,” I say sarcastically. “In the real world, we don’t get perfumed baths.” What have I done? What am I doing? I’m sassing the daughter of the king. What am I thinking? “I’m sorry, I forgot--” I apologize.
“No trouble.” The princess holds out a lacily gloved hand. “I’m Jessica, by the way.”
The princess of the whole land wants me to shake her hand.
Is there any way this day could get crazier?
I slowly take Jessica’s hand and shake it. This doesn’t seem to be what she expected. I remember having seen some gentlemen kiss their lady’s hand and briefly consider doing that, but then remember that I’m filthy and would leave a stain on her glove. My hands already have. Great.
“What’s your name?” the princess asks.
“I’m Kray,” I answer, still a bit astounded I’m in a carriage with royalty.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kray.” Her laughter is like the ringing of bells.
I’m lost.
“I need to go,” I say hurriedly. I can’t be caught in the princess’s carriage! They’ll kill me! Not to mention the fact that she’s too beautiful for words and it physically pains me to be in the same general area as her. Seriously, I can feel my pinkie finger hurting—oh wait, that’s a flea. But back to freaking out. I could be beheaded!
“Oh, well…” Strangely, the princess seems reluctant to see me go. Why, I wonder?
No, I don’t wonder, I tell myself. Wondering has always gotten me into trouble, especially wondering about women. “I need to go,” I repeat firmly, more to convince myself than her. “I guess I’ll see you around, Princess.” Immediately I mentally smack myself. Why did I say I’d see her around? I’m a criminal! She’s a princess!
Sometimes I’m so stupid I disgust myself.
Princess Jessica doesn’t seem to mind. “I hope to see you too, Kray,” she smiles. Her teeth are so white! How can anyone even care to keep them that white?
As quickly as I possibly can, I open the door opposite where I came in and hop out. It’s best to make a quick exit when there’s women involved in a situation. That’s one of my mottos.
Thankfully, there’s no other carriages traveling beside the princess’s, so I don’t get trampled by some stupid horse’s hooves. I whistle to Blue and he lopes up beside me. I finally get to go back to the city, my home. But for some reason my thoughts are scattered. Usually women don’t affect me—I can flirt with the best of them. But Princess Jessica? My heart does a strange flip-flop inside me and I jump a little. Hopefully no one saw that.
The rest of the procession passes by me as I stand next to the main road, covering me in a cloud of dust. I decide it’s time to go home. Pulling an acorn out of my pocket, I toss it up into the air and catch it as I walk. Blue pants in the slowly warming morning air and I smile.
I’d be a thief over a prince any old day. A prince’s life is all restrictions. A thief’s life is freedom.
---------So…what do you think?
I'm pretty excited for this one! It's also very easy to integrate thoughts into the story without using italics :P
I like the style.
"How could you possibly have anything dark in store for this adorable love story, Chloë?" you ask. Well, it's a surprise. But I hope you like it. *insert sneaky face*
See you soon with more of this storyyyyyy!!!
~~zoë wingfeather
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