-I was eating cake flavoured ice cream. Weird. So time to give a random story a random title about cake.-
OH YEAH!!! errrmmm WARNING!!! DISTURBING IMAGERY LIKE GOREY STUFF (i mean, theres not alot, but still also SWEARS)
Her flowing dress rustled, and the bones under her feet crunched as she slowly made her way towards the window, which blinded anyone who looked out of it with light. She smiled as she stepped confidently towards it, every step making loud cracking sounds. She loved the sound, such a clear, vibrant, beautiful sound. Snapping, cracking, crunching...
Penelope woke up in a cold sweat. Bones? Light? Window? Why did this dream always come to her? She stuffed it far into the cesspool of her mind and made a B-line for the lavatory. It was just a dream...just a dream. She stared into her gold-framed mirror, examining her face. Dirty-blonde hair, dark brown eyes, a round face, hardly a single crease or blemish on her skin, but dark eyebags. She sighed and pulled out the jeweled box from a cabinet and opened it, revealing the white, shimmering, dust-crushed pearls. She dipped her hand into it, letting the dust slip silently through her fingers, leaving traces of itself on her palm, even as it fell.
She grimiced, the feeling of wearing it was strange, thick, heavy, uncomfortable, but such was the price of being a noble with a name to protect in the Elizabethian era. She plastered the stuff on her face, rubbing it deep into her skin, covering the horrid eye bags that the dream had plagued her with. No. No more. No more thinking about it. She decided to call her servent to do her hair for her.
Evelyn was a sweet woman, so quiet, kind, patient. If Penelope ever had a real friend to name in the world, it was Evelyn. Evelyn would always listen to Penelope when she raged and complained about everything going on in her life, her mother's death, her neglectful father, her marrage to the slimey Sir Charles of Glouster, her mother-in-law, everything. Evelyn with sit quietly and listen, her calmness like a blackhole, sucking you in slowly...till nothing seemed to matter anymore.
Today, Penelope had something to bitch about. Tonight the Glousters were hosting ANOTHER party. Evelyn had already picked her garments out; a poofy, white dress, low-cut with ruffles in the back, big poofy sleeves, and a skirt covered in a beautiful swirling cascade of pearls and golden filgree designs. It was pretty, but Penelope didn't care for such trivial matters.
-and nor do i, fuck this-
Penelope was looked in the mirror. Evelyn had done up her hair so beautifully, with shimmering pearls shining between the braids and tresses of her hair. Her dress sparkled, the light catching onto the pearls, making her dress look like it was lit by dim stars. Her face was white, pale white, making her dark eyes and red lips stand out beautifully.
Lifting the heavy skirts, she made her way out of her room and down the corridor to the main room, where a servant was waiting for her.
"Your father is waiting in the coach" he said in a dull, dry voice. As usual, her father couldn't be bothered to wait here for her. Instead of her father's strong arm holding hers, guiding her gently, she followed some servant, whos name was lost to her. It was always like that. Always. A cold feeling of resentment washed over her, but she stuffed it down as soon as it came up.
Finally, she was outside. It was beautiful out, the sun was still in the sky, but would sink in a few hours. She held out her hand to the servant, who took it and helped her into the carriage. She slid in next to her father. Not a word was spoken. He stared out his side of the window, not even once glancing her way. The resentment she had shoved down bubbled deep within her, she could feel it slowly consuming her so she exploded in a bloody mess of blood and organs.
- the end -
didn't feel like continuing this shit
