The Replacement

• Horror
• Fantasy

								
Never judge someone based on first opinion. You’d most likely be wrong and look like an idiot, or you could die. 
   I mean, at first glance that wafer-thin servant girl didn’t seem like a murderous witch with a grudge against the crown. She certainly did not seem capable of murder. 
 Till she murdered me. 
   
  A shaft of sunlight warmed my face, a cool breeze tickled my skin. I reluctantly opened my eyes, blinking in the bright sunlight. I was not ready to get up, my body craving rest after the fitful sleep plagued with nightmares. The same nightmares I’d been having for a month now.  
  Ever since Mara’s death. 
I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing deeply as I fought against the horrible memories. 
  Waking up to a cold room, the fire unlit, cold ashes swirling in the grate, stirred by a phantom wind. 
 And Mara, siting stiff as a board with her back prone against the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest, head thrown back, mouth open in a silent scream of agony. 
 A scream I echoed with my own. 
 Footsteps thundered up the corridor, the door flung open and Jacob charged in, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His gaze darted around the room, from Mara’s motionless body to me on the bed, screaming my head off.  He poked his head out the door and shouted for help, then he crossed the room in four strides and wrapped his arms around me, stroking my hair. I fisted my hands in his shirt and sobbed against his chest. The castle physician was summoned, and Mara was pronounced dead, diagnosed with heart failure. 
  Heart failure, she’s sixteen! I wanted to scream, but I could barely speak. People came and went, and the body was removed. 
 And still Jacob stayed, holding me close, rubbing my back as I soaked his shirt in snot and tears. 
 I cried until I was hollow, my throat aching. Exhausted, I fell asleep against Jacob. 
  
   I woke the next morning to the servant girl. Limp brown hair and pallid skin, dark green eyes to large for her face. 
  Mara’s replacement. 
  Resentment and anger towards my parents and the servant girl singed through my veins. Did they even care I’d just lost my best friend? No, they didn’t. they never cared about anything to do with me.  
  I didn’t bother to find out the girl’s name. I didn’t care.
 She wasn’t Mara. Mara could never be replaced. 

  I clawed my way back to the present, banishing the memories to lurk in the back of my mind.  I sat up, looking around. The servant girl stood with her back to me, staring out the window. 
 “How did you sleep, your Highness?” She asked, turning to face me. Her cheeks were colored pink and her eyes gleamed merrily as though from some private joke. Her mouth was twisted in a sweet little smile that sent shivers down my spine. 
  “Fine.”  I answered shortly. I yawned, rubbing my eyes. 
   She stepped closer, one hand behind her back. “Oh really? What about your nightmares?” 
 I stared at her. “What do you mean? How do you know about my nightmares?” 
  She leaned forward, as if about to reveal a secret. “Because I put them there!” She hissed. She withdrew her hand from behind her back, a dagger wrapped in her fist. The blade was blood red, gleaming in the sunlight. 
  My heart leaped in my throat and terror gripped me. I opened my mouth to scream, but she lunged forward with a triumphant yell, plunging the knife into my chest. 
  It hurt. 
Fiery agony lanced trough my entire body. I fell back on my bed, warm liquid soaking my chest. I wanted to scream but couldn’t, blood gurgling between my lips. My vision was going dark, a buzz filling my ears. The servant girl stood over me, her face twisted in a victorious smile, her eyes glowing brightly. Two glowing green orbs fading to pinpricks, then nothing as the darkness overtook me. 
   And I died. 
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