After The End

3. A Field of Dandelions

Alma/Elora pov:

"Finally!" I breathed, wiping the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand.

I spent each night for the past two days going through each corner of this ridiculously massive bedroom to find the perfect hideout. And here it was: under my bed a loose tile that happened to fit perfectly a journal I purchased in my earlier visit to the town market with Dorothy.

I decided that since I didn't have the strongest memory and my thoughts got all twisted when I was stressed, I needed to write down everything I remembered about the novel.

I crawled out from under my bed and stood up huffing and dusting off my nightgown. Lighting up a candle, I sat at my desk and opened the diary. I cracked my knuckles, took the golden quill, and dipped the tip into the dark ink.

I focused on writing but all I made was a mess, I stained my fingers and the white paper with the black ink. Writing with the quill was way harder than I thought. I wiped my hands with a white handkerchief and crumbled the dirty papers to throw them away later.

After some time, I was able to write full sentences more neatly, hopefully with more practice, I could perfect my handwriting. I started by writing down everything I could remember about the characters, then the important events by their chronological order until Elora's death.

A yawn left my lips as I wrapped the diary in a silk cloth. Massaging my sore shoulders, and glanced up at the window and my lips parted in a gasp. It's already dawn. I put the journal in the hole and laid the tiles in place before heading to bed.

Dorothy's POV:

"My lady, my lady" I softly called out to the brat. I scoffed looking at her sleeping form: untamed hair, drool leaking down her chin, and wetting the pillow. A Lady my ass.

I would gladly take the fluffy pillow and press it against her face until she stopped breathing if it wasn't for the Earl shopping my family's head off.

"Just five more minutes, please." She groaned, pulling the pillow over her head. I don't have the whole day, so wake up bitch.

I narrowed my eyes, her hands were covered with dark stains. Ugh, the fucking ink would take forever to wash up. More work for me, Yay.

"My lady, your new gown has arrived." Nothing could cheer up the brat like new expensive stuff.

"A new dress? What for?" She glanced up at me with one eye open. I roll my eyes internally. Ugh, just get the fuck up. How I wish I could say that.

"... For the celebration of Lady Aldebrege's birthday, my lady," I explained. Does she have memory problems? Oh, my bad I forgot. Of course, the birthday of her long-time life friend, the fake opportunist brat as I like to call her, is not important enough for the high and mighty Elora Verloin to remember.

"When is that?" A frown took over her features.

"... This evening my lady. We received the invitation three months ago. Don't you remember?" Oh, fuck! I shouldn't have said that. I closed my eyes, my lips quivering as I mentally prepared myself for a slap.

However, nothing happened. Woah! That was strange. She has been strange lately. She was treating us maids like human beings not the dirt under her expensive dainty shoes, and even smiling and saying please and thank you.

Is the brat possessed?

Was what those maids said true? They overheard the brat telling her father she wanted to become a new person.

Should I try my luck?

"My lady, you must wake up now or you will be late." I even dared shake her shoulder lightly.