The Assault (Part 2)

A week had now passed since the attack. I had been in a coma for 6 whole days. I had three concussions, four broken ribs, a broken arm, punctured lung tissue and eleven deep cuts around my head. The doctors predicted that I would stay here, in Northridge General Hospital, for about a month. Five other people had been gravely injured in what I now knew to have a premeditated explosion straight after take-off on my flight to Emeraud au Rouge.

Mother was right next to me now, as where dozens of other security agents, who would be questioning me about that day for the first time (since I had been in a coma until yesterday). My father was in the room next door. “Mum”, I said. “Charlotte, what is it dear?”. “What’s going to happen? Are we going to stay together? What are we going to do?”. “Don’t worry, ma chérie, everything will be okay”. She couldn’t have sounded less convincing.

It’s the secret services’ time now. They entered the room with flawless postures and a very certain air about them. “Princess, we wished to speak to you now, if you are indeed feeling better!”. “Yes, sir”, I said with an unplanned mocking tone. “Very well. I would like you, hence, to describe the day of the incident. Did you notice anything or anyone specifically bizarre?”. “Well, the entire process was identical to the customary plane boarding one. I got to the airport by bus, I bought the ticket, I checked in and I boarded the plane. The only bizarre thing I noticed was the man with a burnt cheek in the air plane. He greeted me, though I didn’t know him, that I know of”. “A man with a burnt cheek? May you give me any additional descriptions of this man?”. “Well, he had white-blonde hair, and was extremely pale. His eyes were a sort of dark blue, or perhaps grey. From what I could tell he was quite tall and boney. He sat in the seat next to mine, on the opposite row of the plane”. “On the seat next to yours, you say? According to the records there was no one on that seat. And the only people collected from the site of the explosion were the people on the boarding list. Are you sure about this? Do you not think that the trauma may have fabricated some inexistent events on…” “What are you saying?”, said mother. “Are you calling my daughter a liar?”. “No, certainly not, Your Majesty! But you must consider the possibility that…” “Damn it! Are you going to question my daughter or are you going to stand there, calling her a liar when she’s lying there, hurt, and all because of me! I brought here into a world of violence and cruelty. I brought her into the world of royalty”, she said whilst sobbing hysterically. “Look at her! Look at my girl! I did this to her and she doesn’t deserve it!”. And after hearing the turmoil, my father came racing into the room, against all of the security: “Blanche!”. And I was, once again, out.