tw - self harm
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Noel's inky black hair blew through the heavy early June winds. She tucked her long locks into the square necklace of her silky pale blue dress. Today Noel had plucked up the courage to do the one thing she had been avoiding for the past month ... to go visit Princess Celine's grave.

Celine's grave was stored in the French Royal Vault, a piece of land where all French monarchs and anyone with royal French blood is buried. Noel had been a few times to the cemetery when she was a girl to go visit her grandparents, but this was different.

She didn't want to go visit Celine, to see her gravestone, to see all the flowers and letters left by her admirers... but she had to. She needed to talk to Celine. She needed to let it all out to her.

"Noel, where are you going now? You should be packing ... your leaving tomorrow for Christ's sake." Manon whispered, grabbing her sister's arm before she could get into the car, Celine's old Corvette Stingray, which happened to be a new edition and an American car.

Noel shut her eyes tightly and turned to her sister. "Look, I just need to do something. I have been packing non stop for the last week for fuck's sake. May I please just leave this damn palace without being bombarded! And don't you dare tell Mother I'm going out because I might not be able to go to this place again in life —"

"Cheri," softly said Manon, "Go. I'll cover for you."

"Thank you. I'll see you soon." Noel waved, getting into the driver's seat frantically and headed straight for the cemetery. It was too long of a drive, well it was an half an hour's long drive but it was nice to be alone in a car, blasting the radio as loud as she could. No one telling her to be proper and prim for once in her damn life.

As Noel finally arrived, her parked the Corvette on the side of the road and put on Celine's old Dior sunglasses and she had found in the passenger's seat. After all she didn't want to be recognized ... which she probably wouldn't. This specific cemetery was private property after all.

"ID please, la demoiselle." stated the French Royal guard, standing at the gate of the cemetery.

Noel lowered off her sunglasses off her perfectly button nose, making the guard realize it was the Princess of France and letting her through the gate.

As the Princess walked through about a few rows of gravestones, Noel finally found a elegant white marble gravestone ... that seemed to be just as elegant as Celine was.

The gravestone seemed to have been pure marble, with about thousands of a variety of flowers and all of Celine's favorite things laying beside the stone. Noel sat down on her knees and took a minute to read the gravestone's black text;

R.I.P PRINCESS CELINE FONTENOT OF PARIS
December 1, 1954 — May 31, 1975
Older sister, daughter, princess to France, our future Queen, and holder of many admirers through the world
Her Royal Highness will be deeply missed forever

Tears fell down Noel's pale cheeks just reading the gravestone and looking at all the lovely gifts people had left Celine. So many letters, flowers, vegetables, chocolates, and even a few drawings. Princess Celine, her big sister, truly won't be forgotten ever in a century.

"Celine, I don't know why I came today. I just ... I had this feeling I needed to come. To tell you that I may not be coming back. Back to this graveyard ever again. Mother is shipping me off to marry some Greek prince. A man I've never met in my life ... and im going to spending the rest of my days with him. A l run e who will be my husband in less than four months who I've never even spoken a word to my life. And I know ... if you were here ..." sobbed Noel, "Maybe Mother wouldn't have done this to me. If you were Queen, you would let me study maths in university and let me travel with Evelyn. You would let me see the world... and now I'm going to trapped in another castle with a man and his family whose language I don't even speak. Maybe ... if I wasn't here ... if I was with you and Father ... I would be happy. Mother would be happy, my so called fiancé would be happy ... everyone would be. So why did you have to die Celine?! Why did you die... why couldn't it have been me..."

Noel was now hyperventilating. A great sob escaped the princess, and she covered her red face with shaking hands. She couldn't stop crying, all she wanted to do was stay in this position and bawl her eyes out.

"Maybe if I was dead ..." Noel muttered. "If only I were dead."

The girl opened her eyes, now a bright red, and opened a pink letter taped to the grass of Celine's gravestone.

Dearest Princess, we will miss you dearly. tellement beau princesse ... reposez en paix. Your beautiful smile and hair and laugh, will be missed by the world and you would have served our country well. Here, have a smoke. - Love, Anne-Maria of Lille

Inside the envelope had a cigars and a lighter. Noel then remembered how much Celine used to smoke in her life. Scareaubleau ... the girl would go through about twenty cigars a day. It was ridiculous ... Noel always tried to stop her, but Celine was just as stubborn as her little sister.

Noel squeezed the lighter in her palm, feeling it's plastic texture. She attempted to light it a few times, then finally a small light appeared from the top. She placed the light near her wrist, where her blue veins rested. She felt the faint tingling of a burn, she closed her eyes and let its voice do the worrying. Noel felt as if this burn was reliving her pain ... telling her all the things she had have been desperate to hear: this will make it ok.

"Your Highness! Her Highness Princess Manon just left a fax, telling you to get along back to the palace before sundown." shouted the guard.

Noel gasped quietly and put the lighter back into the envelope. She looked down at her wrist and found the small burn. It felt so ... raw.

"I'm coming just now monsieur!" Noel shouted back, grabbing her purse and running over to Celine's ... Celine and Noel's car.