Not the life she wanted.

She knew that some things weren't meant for her, she knew she would never wake up beside a lover and thank the very atoms of her body for being her. She would never know the joy of children, the joy her mother felt when she first learned to walk, the joy her mother still felt when she called her just to say that she loved her. Loved her more now than she had at any other time in her life. She knew the sun never rose or fell for her, the stars never shone bright on a night just for her eyes, the moon didn't pull the tides as she walked the beach because it was jealous that the water could be so close and it so far.

Her green eyes gazed out of her bedroom window, a bedroom that was built before it knew she would buy it. The street stretched under her, two lanes for coming and going, cars parked on the sides of different colors. There were people, it was early but there were people out walking, jogging, children playing. She longed for another life, one where she could walk, jog, play, without a cloud over her head that kept her from enjoying her body. Her mind.

They had called her gifted as a child, put her in advanced courses and asked her young opinion on the world. Politics were her playground, issues her monkey bars. And never once had she questioned their probing questions. Please explain this for me, teachers would ask. She would stand, explain, and sit down. The questions were always hard and she never failed to explain to them, as if they were the child and she the adult.

She never told fantastic stories about mermaids or imagined she was piloting a ship in outer space. The apple of her father's eye, the very air her mother breathed. She was perfection for them, molded her little body into what they thought a good little girl was. This was not the life they imagined for her, not the life she wanted.

Alone in a tower, the dying princess of a dead king and a dying queen. The princess was dying, but not the same way that the queen was. The queen was old, it was nearly time for her to pass on anyway, the princess was young and almost beautiful.

Not fair! The villagers cried. She's so young, its not fair!

She held a cup in her hand, water that reflected rippling light onto the glass of the window. She took a tiny sip and almost wished the glass would fall from her hand and break, giving her a mindless chore to do. Giving one last glance towards the children she turned and walked barefoot to the bathroom. Time to take her medicine like a good little girl.