warning: you may cry.[ IN WHICH SHE DIES ]November’s last p.o.v —Rome’s body trembles beneath the sword. Rome has been stabbed in the heart with his own sword. He died by his own sword, both literally and metaphorically. I watch as he immediately drops to the ground. Veins pop out of his neck, head, and hands as he starts to lose oxygen. Rome’s bloodshot eyes glare angrily at me. I can see him fighting his own death, so I push the sword in deeper so that he can't fight it.This time, I have not been possessed by Faye’s vengeful spirit. This time, it is I, November Starkey that has decided to kill. I kill Rome, because it is what that is needed to be done. This is what I should have done a long time ago.“The Kings have to leave for a purer world.” I say as tears well in my eyes. I do not know why I am weeping at this moment. Well, I guess it would make me a total psycho if I don’t feel any type of pain after killing someone. “You are polluting this world, Rome. Your rivalry with th
[SIN’S EULOGY] I am cursed. I have been cursed to never find love. It is a curse placed on me by God to forever live my life in bitterness and loneliness. It is the price I have to pay for waging war against Him and leaving the Heavens behind. I am sorry I dragged you into this mess. I am sorry you had to suffer with me, November. And because of this, I will let you rest. I will not reincarnate you this time. I will not put you through this rivalry and madness again. It is hard to let you go, but I know it is what I need to do. I will let you go. I will let you go, Gwyneth. I will let you go, Faye Donovan. I will let you go, November Starkey. It is time for you to rest. You have been an impeccable Queen over the years. The whole Kingdom thanks you. I just wish those years were longer. You always get taken away from me when I need you the most. Or maybe that is how it was always meant to be. I was meant to never have you. You solved the riddle. Rome’s death was the only way
The devil is real. And he’s not a little red man with horns and a tail. He is beautiful, and that's because he is a fallen angel and he used to be God's favorite. Actually, the devil can be anyone. He can be two different people, different ages, different appearances all at once. I know all this because I’ve met him— I have met two, unfortunately. The devil came in form of two powerful Kings.They were beautiful. They were charming. They were loving and they were alluring. They were all those things until I saw their other side. It was never my intention to cross paths with the devil. I was only a naïve nineteen year old, living a life that circulated around fame and money. Then, out of the blue, the devil came for me, or should I call him The King— which is a name he prefers to be addressed as. He showed up on a calm evening, and turned my entire life upside down; he turned it into a disaster. He put me under his spell, making me fall deeper and deeper into his sinful charm. Then
[ IN WHICH IT ALL BEGINS ]“November.” I move my head at the call of my name. Cameras flash repeatedly in my direction. The photographers are desperate to get more pictures of the long, dark-green dress I have on. With the dress, I feel feminine and strong. It sits upon my olive skin, showing the best of me, and leaving little to imagination. Confidently, I angle my body, posing for the photographers whilst plastering on my best smile. As a reaction to the pose, more cameras flash in my face as murmurs fill the evening air. Other wealthy socialites pass by in beautiful suits and dresses, but as usual, I take up all the attention. I get carried away by the photographers' compliments, and soon, I forget my main task for the evening. But thankfully, the two bodyguards behind me gesture towards the doors; where I need to be at the moment.“Miss Starkey, this way please.” I wave one last time at the cameras before ascending the stairs with the ends of my dress in my hands. I have been
[ IN WHICH SHE WIELDS A KNIFE ]A breathy sigh leaves my lips once I push open the door to the bathroom. Inside, I let my shoulders drop. I lean over the sink, my head bent down as I breathe in and breathe out harshly. I tuck my brown curly hair out of my face, putting the strands behind my ear. Slowly, I raise my head back up. I stare into the mirror. The florescent white lights in the ceiling makes my caramel skin glow; a symbol that I'm living a healthy and wealthy life. I’ve come a long way. Now, I’m rich, and I’m at the top— where I’ve always wanted to be. A small smile breaks out on my lips. “For a nineteen year old orphan you sure made the world spin,” I say to my reflection. Suddenly, the door to the bathroom bursts open. I spin around to see the tall, young man with long red hair saunter in, a huge smile on his face. “Nobi—” Before he says anything, I interject. “Luca, leave.” He lifts his hands in surrender. “Oh, no, Nobi, there’s no need to be hostile.” He brushes a ha
[ IN WHICH SHE HAS QUESTIONS ]Being in the public eye has its benefits. But I can’t say those benefits outweigh the disadvantages. I’ve had my fair share of criticism and death threats from the public. Like every other celebrity. Most of the time, my fans —or rather— haters are dissatisfied with what I do, what I say and even with what I wear. They want me to act a certain way, to fulfil the perfect model-like perception they already have of me, but the thing is, no one’s perfect, and I assure you, I, November am far from perfection. So, when I don’t do the things they want, or when I gain just a little bit of weight, or when a scandalous article gets out, I am dragged all over the internet and shamed for it. Those years were characterized with feelings of hopelessness; however, it doesn’t compare to what I’ve gone through today. I witnessed mates of mine ripped apart and thrown to the floor like chickens. Images keep flashing in my mind. And I have so many questions. Why didn’t
[ IN WHICH SHE PLOTS HER ESCAPE ]I have heard stories of famous personalities being held at gunpoint. About how they’ve been robbed, and even how they’ve gotten kidnapped for ransom. While telling these traumatic stories, they associated the situations with feelings of fear and panic. However, I can’t describe what I’m feeling. I don’t know if I’m scared or if I’m panicked. Because I feel something else. I feel calm— I feel at home. This world isn't my world. It is different from the luxurious world I live in. While in the Gala dinner event, it was evening, and the day was only going to get darker, but right now, the sky's as bright as ever, like we had teleported through time into the next morning. And this lets me know that I have indeed crossed a barrier that separates worlds. In this world, there are no moving vehicles, no tarred roads or even streetlights anywhere. There is no electricity. Nothing modern about the place I have been brought into. It is like time has been revers
[ IN WHICH SHE MEETS AN UNKNOWN WORLD ]I land face first into a bush. Then my legs collide with something cold, and hard. The kind of pain that pulses through me the minute I touch the ground cannot be overemphasized. Jumping from a height of 7 meters should never be done. I end up not only bruising my ankle, but also with thorns pierced into my skin. I want to scream in agony, but I can't risk getting caught. Swallowing my cries, I pick up my dress, and begin running the opposite direction of the mansion. When I’ve gotten at least 50 feet away, I turn to look at the building getting smaller and smaller. I cackle at my success, then I flip them the middle finger. Uncontrollable giggles take over as I sprint off into the unknown world. … [at that moment, i was so sure i had escaped my fate. but i didn’t know Jacqueline and Atlas were by a window, watching me run off with bruised skin. they did nothing to stop me, because they knew i couldn’t outrun my fate.] … About an hour later