I haven't gotten up from my bed in forever. I can't remember the last time I had something to eat. Never mind, I do remember. The last time I ate was right before I read the letter that ripped my heart out.

I roll over onto my back and bring my arm up so it covers my eyes and shields them from the light of the afternoon sun. It's odd – I don't know how the sun can still rise and set when it feels like I haven't breathed for lifetimes.

I can hear the servants moving through the house. Someone will check in on me again soon, and then I will be able to fall asleep again, and dream of nothing. I can't wait.

A faint knock on my door alerts me to my maid coming in a moment before she does. I don't move but eye her through the crack of light coming from a hole in my vision from my elbow.

"Ma'am, are you planning on trying to eat anything today, again?" She said it tiredly, like she really wasn't all that interested in whether I would starve or not.

"No, I told you, I'm ill and not to be bothered." I roll back onto my stomach and snuggle further into the covers.

"The King wants to make sure you're still alive," she said, sounding confused as to why even he would care.

"Mmn," I grumble and close my eyes. "Bring up some warm milk – I'll have some of that."

I don't hear her reply, so I guess she must have curtsied – or done nothing at all, as if it really matters what she did. Nothing matters, not when it comes to me.

I've learned that thousands of times over, now.

All I wanted, all I ever wanted, was to have something like in the stories of Shakespeare. Maybe not the tragic endings, because my story begins tragic.

But now I know. I know that my story will never turn magical, it won't even become okay. It won't even become bearable. I know that now.

I'm not meant to have a happy ending, ever.

I open my drawer and find the sleeping pills, forgetting that I told the servant to bring up warm milk. I dry swallow three pills and take solace in the fact that I will be in another dreamless sleep soon.

I don't want to remember. I don't want to remember anything. I don't want to remember that the only way anyone would want to be nice to me is because I am a female of money, so they can marry me and run off with their other lover. I don't want to remember that the man I would've left everything for decided I was just some way how to get everything for him and another.

I just want to forget.

Now and then I'll become lucid and imagine pattering sounds against my window. Once I wake myself up enough to realize that it was nothing; just rain, or the sounds of some servant chopping down trees from the forest I used to hide away in. Once I notice this, I fall back asleep so that I can forget.

Sometimes, when I'm awake, I'll hear a suitor downstairs questioning where I am. The King used to insist to them that "Kagome's just ill," but after time, he couldn't continue to say I was sick without making it seem like I would be unfit to bear children should the time come. Now he says things like "Kagome's in town," or "Kagome's outdoors, getting a breath of fresh air." I think he must've had to come up with these new ideas because it's still the same suitor... what was his name? Not the Naraku one... Kouga. That's it.

It's mildly entertaining to listen to before I decide to go back to sleep again.

I'm surviving on water, tea, and milk, and I'm sure I look terrible since that's what I've been living on for the past two weeks. Hopefully I look something frightful so all the suitors go running.

The thought makes me smile - or so I think I'm smiling. I'm not quite sure, though, because the feeling has become unfamiliar what with all the time that has gone by, time that frowning has been accustomed to for now.

I get tired very quickly. The two times I have now gotten out of bed to take a bath usually wind me, and I feel even more tired every time I wake up from sleeping, which doesn't sound quite right.

It must be that I've been wishing to actually be sick for so long that now, I actually am sick. Sometimes, I catch myself praying - praying to whom, you ask? That's right, who'd listen to me, eh? - that I am really sick, that it is a sickness I might be able to take a break, for good, from life.

I need a good, strong illness, that will let me go easy, and fast, so the King doesn't actually see it in time to fetch for a doctor. Being so close and then having death taken away from me would be too much.

At least I can always say one thing. I have never cried, and I still didn't cry - not even for Inuyasha.

The next day, the King burst into my room, this time with a doctor.

"You foolish child! Your maid had to be the one to tell me you were sick with fever," the King snarled as he moved aside for the good doctor to begin his work.

The King still didn't stop talking as the doctor began to bloodlet me after resting a cloth soaked with cool water upon my forehead.

"I have suitors lined up for you - we are planning on getting this patched up by the end of the month, and I'm not going to hear one word from you about it, or that will be the last thing you say for a long damn time," he said menacingly.

The doctor studiously ignored us and patched up his work. "She should be fine by tomorrow," he said in a controlled voice to my father. My father smiled back at him - in my opinion, evilly.

"Good. Daughter, I plan on you being ready for a ball we are going to the day after tomorrow." The doctor packed up his things in a case and left my room. "Many of the suitors that have been visiting will be there, and you will be too." He shuffled over to the door.

"Oh - and don't forget to eat something, you look like a God damned skeleton."

Hey guys. I know it's been a while, I'm sorry! I'm in college now so I'm sure you all have gone to bigger and better places, too... anyhow my sister kind of reminded me I had this site so I figured, why not finish this story? Whenever I get bored, maybe. Anyways, enjoy.