***NOTE this is very unedited!! I might revise it later, so please don't hate!!
________________________________

THUD. THUD. THUD. The sound continuously echoes in my head. It sounds like a hammer- pounding continuously. Groaning, I open my eyes slightly to the biggest headache I've ever had before. Squinting in the dark, I make out a figure that makes my blood freeze completely. I was being held, and not by just anyone, Prince Maxon. "America." He breathed down at me, his eyes windows to his soul. He spoke with such a familiarity I've only known with Aspen. This is wrong. In so many ways. I need to be out. Panicking, I scream. Loudly. For at this moment horrible flashes of the past come back to me. I was being held by the very person who wanted me dead! Trying weakly to claw my way from his grip, I keep screaming. "America." He says, concern in his too-perfect eyes. "Are you okay?" I just keep panicking, trying to shift my body over, but finding it hard due to my weakness. "Where am I?" I ask.
He looks at me with a slight hint of wariness. "Where in the escape tunnels, America."
I blink. Escape tunnels. It had a familiar ring to it.
"Why are you talking to me?"
It's now his turn to blink. "What do you mean?"
"I'm a six, a rebel, I murdered your love, and last I remember, you wanted me dead."
He almost drops me. "America, you were framed. Besides, you couldn't be charged for killing yourself..." His voice drops a notch, wavering slightly. "Your a rebel, dear?"
" I am not your dear."
He smiles slightly, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"You always say that."
"No, I don't, Your Majesty."
He tilts his head. A horrid conclusion seeming to creep in his eyes.
"Who am I?"
"Umm...the Prince Of Illea, Prince Maxon."
He nearly drops me again.
"Nothing else? Just the Prince?"
"I don't know what you want me to say. Could you kindly put me down now? I have a boyfriend."
"Who?"
"His name is Aspen."
He abides my request, and before I know it, my feet are back in solid ground.
He shakes his head, putting his arms to his face. "What happened to you America?"
I rack my head, trying to find something that would point me in the direction of familiarity. But after about thirty seconds of trying, I give up.
"Your Majesty? Who's America?"