Thousand

There were thousands of them, waiting to be looked at, picked, chosen, touched. She couldn’t decide which one she wanted, they were all so enticing and beautiful. Her heart beat against her rib cage with excitement and anticipation. Even now, looking at all of them, she couldn’t decide. 

She looked at the older ones first. She adored them at first glance and upon closer inspection, she found that she didn’t need to look at any of the other groups. She would pick from this group and this group only.

Each light feathery touch sent small ripples of movement through each one as she walked through, examining each of them with a careful eye and a sweet touch. 

She stopped in front of one particular one. This was a classic dress. Oh yes. It was the colour of the midnight sky, a careful dazzling of diamonds around the front collar, a plunging v-shape on the back, all of which fanned out at the waist into waves of gorgeous soft silk and tulle. She touched it gently at first, her hands careful and curious. It felt perfect and light as she held a bit of it in her hand.

This was the dress.

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Mad

She thought she must have been insane to believe that he loved her. How could he love her? She was insufferable, ugly, rude, sarcastic, and annoying. No one could love her but her parents and even then that was a huge gamble. 

She thought he loved her, all of her and her crazy. She was wrong. He did not love her. He loved the idea of her that he had in his mind. When she couldn’t fulfill that idea he had, he threw her away. She knew it would happen, so she had tried desperately to fit into the idea of her that he had. She tried so hard but she couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t do it anymore.

He broke her.

She had been so sure that no one would love her and then he came along and lifted her heart from the depths of her body. Then he suddenly ripped her heart from her chest and took it, never to give it back again. She had cried for days, everyone telling her that she would find another, that it would be better.

None of that helped. Sure, it would get better, but that’s in the future. She was here in the present and right now, she wanted it to stop. So she did just that. She wrapped her crazy and her secrets up inside of her and covered herself in armour so that she would never again be broken. 

She had been mad to believe he loved her. Now he’s going mad knowing that she’s fine.

Sunset

She climbed to the top of the slide and sat down, arranging her books, bag, and phone around her on the small surface. She came here every once and a while to get away from her friends, her family, and her worries. She only brought her phone for emergencies, she generally ignored any calls and texts she received during this time. 

She took a deep breath of the twilight air. She loved how despite the warmth of the day, it always became slightly cooler as the day came to a close. 

She loved to sit here and watch the sun sink into the ground. There was something relaxing about the silence of the oncoming night. It let her know that whatever troubles she had during the day, that the night would come and wash them away, just for a little while, that she had some breathing time before she would have to tackle them again. 

Tremble (Late post April 27th, 2013)

Sometimes when reality got to be too much for her, she’d close her eyes to the shaking world, to the terrifying truth of her responsibilities. She’d take a few deep breaths and imagine that she was a little girl again, that her mom and dad were there to help her, that she wasn’t alone in the world. 

When she felt that the world stopped shaking, stop trembling, she’d open her eyes. Reality wasn’t as colourful or as pleasant as her imagination and that hurt her. It served to remind her that she WAS alone and that her mom and dad weren’t there to help her. Then she’d throw herself into her schoolwork and into her part-time jobs to forget all of that. 

It wasn’t until late at night in bed, just before she fell asleep that she remembered these things. She was alone in this world and nothing would change that.

Transformation

She looked at the new clothes in her closet. She smiled at all the bright colours, fantastical prints, and frilly fabrics. Gone were the neutral colours, pants, and hoodies. She looked down at the shoes she had acquired during the summer. No more ratty flip flops and dirty trainers. Now there was colour not just at the top of her closet, but at the bottom.

She turned and looked at herself in the mirror at the coral lace dress and pastel green tights she wore. The old her would never have worn something so delicate looking but the new her loved this. She loved the whimsy of colourful dresses and tights. She loved feeling like a carefully decorated dessert from head to toe.

Something had changed her during the summer. She couldn’t explain it, but she slowly found herself wearing makeup, dainty flats, and lacy dresses. She still wore pants and trainers and flip flops, she just wore them differently. For example, instead of plain dark jeans everywhere, she had one pair of dark jeans while her four other pairs were patterned and coloured. Her trainers and slippers were no longer dirty and tatty.

This was a new her and she loved it. She loved being comfortable enough to wear dresses and to wear makeup. People always said that more confident women wore no makeup, but she felt just as confident and beautiful wearing makeup.

Getting over her little inner monologue, she walked up to her closet and began to pick an outfit out that would show off her legs.

Summer (Late post April 25th, 2013)

She pulled at her blouse, the fabric sticking to her skin. She grimaced and sat up from the couch and pulled off the sweaty fabric, thankful that no one was home to see her in her bra and short shorts. She walked over to the AC panel and switched it on, not caring that her parents wouldn’t be very happy with her for wasting money on staying cool. 

The girl smiled when she felt the cold gust of air hit the top of her head from the vents. She sat back down on the couch and lounged, waiting for her sticky, slick skin to dry from the cold. She hated summer and everything that it is. 

It was always too hot and too humid. At least during the winter, if she got too cold, she only had to layer up on her clothes. On top of that, autumn had all the best cuddling weather. During the summer, if it got too hot, you had to shed clothes and who’d want to cuddle in the heat? No one. Everyone’s skin gets too sweaty and sticky and no one wants to touch eachother because they’d be sticking to eachother. Autumn was definitely better.

She frowned at the thought of how much longer she’d have to suffer this California heat. She glanced out at the empty pool, angry that her parents were too careless and forgot to have the pool filled for the summer. She’d have to wait until next month for them to be  back and for the pool to finally be filled.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the couch, the cool air beckoning her to sleep.

She sighed and hoped that when she woke up, it’d be cold and dreary instead of bright and hot. 

Look

She looked at each of the pictures, her heart racing as she came to a conclusion: This man was immortal. 

The more she researched and dug up about him, the more it became apparent that he was no mere man. The oldest recorded mention of him that she found was an old portrait from the early fifteenth century. He couldn’t be a vampire…could he? she thought as she shuffled the papers and and rearranged them by time. He’s not a vampire, at least not the traditional kind… she leaned back in her chair and took her glasses off, rubbing her temples, a headache on the brink of starting. 

What is he?

She had known him since they were in college and then later in university. She had never looked at him and thought that he hadn’t aged. She always assumed he just had amazing genes. She grabbed one of the papers from a pile of papers she had yet to read and perused it, her eyes widening as she read it. According to this, if it was all true, his parents disappeared when he was just a boy. Since then, he had been known to live with just his servants in a big house back in Romania. 

“What are you Brandon.” she mumbled to herself as she continued to read. He was twenty-seven years old, a young single bachelor when he supposedly died. It said that no body was found and that there had been rumors surrounding his parent’s disappearance. She glanced at one of the pictures she had found, in it he was twenty six, a year before he “died”.

She had to admit that he was handsome and charming. He looked every part the aristocrat, every part the gentleman. In the fading picture, she looked closer and standing off to the right was an inhumanly beautiful man. She couldn’t see him as well as Brandon, but she could see that he was beautiful. Something irked her about him however and pushed her to look more closely at all the pictures she had. 

Oh my god.

This man was in every picture and portrait of Brandon. He was always off to the side, slightly out of focus, dressed in the time’s style. Who was he? What does he have to do with Brandon’s immortality? she asked herself as she began to collect her papers and books. She had to see Brandon and talk to him.

She had to know. As she got up from the desk, she heard the silent room door close.

“Hello?” she called out, turning around to face the door, “Is anyone there?”

No one answered and she heard nothing. She turned away and continued to pack her things. She felt it then, the sense that someone was standing right behind her, breathing on her neck. She smelled it too. The smell of dying flowers and soil. It both calmed and alarmed her. She turned around quick, facing the beautiful man from the pictures.

“I see you’ve gotten quite close to our little secret.” she didn’t have time to scream before the man knocked her unconscious, her vision going black.

Thanks

She looked down at her thighs and then at her arms. Cuts marred every inch of her skin and she felt like the most beautiful creature to walk the face of the earth. She dropped the razor blade into the bathroom sink and looked at herself in the mirror. She felt alive, she felt like she existed. She didn’t feel like a nothing anymore. She smiled to herself and pulled her shirt back on, the hem falling to her knees and covering her scars.

She walked past her parents’ bedroom and touched her hand to their closed door. She thought she’d cry, but she didn’t. She turned to the opposite door and placed a hand to that door. Her sister. The girl’s brow furrowed with irritation and she pulled back sharply, before walking down the hallway to her bedroom. 

She closed and locked the door. She looked at her room then. She cleaned it and rearranged everything. She walked to her bedside table and took out the bottle of sleeping pills that she had gotten from Emi at school. She shook the bottle in her hands. She decided she’d take every single pill. She reached under her mattress and pulled out a bottle of whiskey that she had taken from one of the parents she babysat for. 

She placed both bottles on her bed and slipped out of her t-shirt. She grabbed a cream coloured dress from the desk next to her bed and pulled it on over her head. Throwing the t-shirt at her a basket in the corner of her room, she grabbed the bottles and opened them, no hesitation as she moved. 

She took half of the pills and knocked back the whiskey, its taste leaving burning trails as it and the pills went down her throat. She drank more whiskey to wash the rest of the pills down. When the pill bottle was empty, she downed the rest of the whiskey ignoring the silent drumming in her head.

She threw both bottles off her bed onto the soft carpeting. She laid her head down and smiled.

She reached under her pillow and pulled out a note. These things have notes you know. On the envelope, written in lowercase print was “Thanks for the support.”

Order (Late post April 22nd, 2013)

She gripped the gun in both her hands, the cold weight sending chills down her body. She stared down at the older man on the ground clutching his midsection. He had been the one to shoot down her family. 

“Do you know how I survived?” she spat down at him, kicking him with her foot, “Do you?!” 

The man looked up at her, confusion clouding his violet eyes. He shook his head, scooting away and backing up against the hard brick wall.

“You didn’t check to see if I was alive. My mother and my older sister covered me with their bodies.” the girl stood before him, the gun pointed down at him, her black eyes rimmed with the red of tears, “You killed them!”

The man suddenly remembered who she was, “Ah, you must have been one of the tribe, am I correct?” the girl nodded, her brow furrowing, “Yes, I remember you now. You and your family were on the ‘DISPOSE’ list…I didn’t want to you know.”

“Oh I’m sure. Why would a Hunter not want to dispose of us Wires? Because that makes sense.” the girl replied bitterly, cocking the gun, “Now, any last words?”

“Wait, please! I was just following orders!” he begged, getting on his knees. He bowed his head, the gun’s pointed right at his head. 

“Okay, I forgive you.” she whispered. The man looked up, a smile gracing his handsome features, “Just kidding.” 

She shot him between the eyes before he could scream.

Wind

She loved to come to the seaside. It was calmer here, more breathable, and less constricting. She loved the city, but sometimes, it was just nice to get away, to relax somewhere beautiful and forget about all her troubles back home.

The sea breeze hit her face, the salt in the air stinging and matting her hair. She took a deep breath, the cold air filling her lungs and refreshing her like a good cold glass of water. She pulled her brown coat tighter around her, the wind a happy reprieve but it still brought a chill through her body. The young girl leaned against her car, the wind blowing her hair around her face creating a halo of lilac. She pulled her hair into a loose bun and started to walk towards the sea, taking pleasure in the feel of the sand between her toes and under her feet.

It was always nice to get away.