Adoring Her, the Moon

Nemesis

Nemesis

(N. nem-a-sis) - a long-standing rival; an enemy

September 6th, 2002

My hair is washed and my fanny is clean. Only problem is, I smell like a man, and look like one. I pulled on the large shirt I stole, but the tracksuit bottoms I took were much too large. So, I was left with either my knickers or my jeans. I felt knickers were the best option here, considering I'm just going to go back into the room. I quickly cross the hallway and I shut the door behind me. Something I notice is that a wardrobe has been placed into the room, and that Blaise is standing right in front of it. He turns around and his eyes run over my body. I feel my cheeks flush, pulling the shirt down instinctively. I'm so focused on that that I don't notice the mild anger in his expression.

"Is that my shirt?" He asks, keeping his cool facade.

"No."

"That's my shirt," he takes a step closer.

"It's not."

"How did you get into my room?" another step.

"I didn't."

"I locked my door. So, how the bloody hell did you get in?" We were face to face now, breath in sync.

"I don't know what you're on about?"

"Goddamnit!" He spins around, like a full 360. I laugh out loud but he continues acting like a child. "How the fuck did you get into my room!" He looks straight into my eyes, and I stare back. Telling him silently that I would not share that information.

"Must've left it unlocked," I smirk, maintaining our eye contact. He lets out one last huff and storms out.

"Put some pants on, your arse is putting the moon to shame." I audibly gasp and slam the door behind him. I place my back to the door and notice once again the wardrobe. The thing I first notice is the design, it's tall and wide. It swirls up, reminds me of a snake. Coiling together to sew itself into the shape of a wardrobe, enticing its prey to open it up and get pulled inside. And, boy am I enticed.

I pull the wardrobe open and I almost laugh, it has jumpers and t-shirts hung up. I open the drawers and find skirts and jeans, even some pyjama pants. And in the drawer below that, knickers, knickers, and even more knickers. All colour coor- dinated and matching. Creepy. On the very bottom drawer, nightgowns, and socks. I hurriedly grab some of the pyjama pants and pull them on. Next, I look into the rest of the room. Seeing if he'd changed anything else, and he had. The desk was full of stationary, parchment, envelopes, and a journal. I look around for pens or pencils, but I only find quills and ink pots. Yet another red flag in this house of warnings. But anyhow, I take them out and I write. Not that I'll be able to send my letters anytime soon. I could not figure out how to work these quills for days.

***

September 10th, 2002

Dearest Alina,

I have in fact been kidnapped. Then the kidnapper dec- ided it best to train me to be a witch. Yes, you read that correctly, a witch. He believes that I am a magical being with an even more magical background. Insane, I know.

Anyhow, please panic. Call the police as soon as you receive these letters. Not that you ever will. I may die before then.

With care, Adara

I have finally figured out how to write smoothly with these stupid quills. Now, I at least have something to do while locked in this hell hole. I close the journal and put it into the drawer. My bare feet slap against the floor and I slide back into bed. The silk places me into a false heaven, at least until there's a knock and a voice from outside of my door.