Serpentine | ✓

4 | time

*** T I M E ***

EVERYTHING STARTED WHEN the night shone and the stars wept.

It was icy but my skin had been forged to withstand even the coldest of winters. The piece of parcel I had picked up - with its tattered eges and smudged ink - reported that the Winter Ball was weeks away.

It was such a petty thing to lust the same lust of mortals, celebrate their beliefs and ideology like I somehow belong with them. It was all imagination really, watching myself dressed with the finest of silk, dancing with charming princes and dazzling bachelors, it was such a nice thing to picture out.

It was too perfect.

Sighing, I tore the piece of paper and let it ride with the wind. What use was it to mull over the sins of the mortals, occupy myself with their lavish lifestyle and their expensive culture. I am Nidus Serpentine, born from the scales and fangs of Medusa the gorgon, I should be out there instilling fear and tyranny.

But I couldn't, because none of those were true. My mother and I were kind - but we were just. . . cursed.

"I feel like rebelling." I had told one of my snakes after deep in thought. I named it Toby.

Toby like the rest, slithered angrily in my head. His green scales reflected the dying embers of the fire. I could see in his yellow, calculating eyes that Toby was indeed not happy about my plan to elope and attend Pire's Winter Ball.

I huffed stubbornly. "I want to go to the ball." I said firmly this time. "I will go to the ball."

I wasn't really. I knew the stakes. I just liked saying it out loud. My snakes however, had a certain distaste of my bashfulness and resorted into biting my ear one by one.

"Ouch Toby I was joking! Stop that Melissandra-it aches Laurel!"

I swat my snakes in disdain. Their bites were like ant bites, but my snake's venom are fatal to mortals.

This endless cycle of depression lasted for such a long time. I was sulking, childish, I know but I really wanted to go to the ball.

To experience atleast one human thing!

To be able to feel the touch of people's skin.

Would they be as welcoming as I thought they would be?

Oh who am I kidding! There are millions of reasons why going to the ball would eventually end up in a disaster!

First, the superstitions would just make them grab their pitchforks and demand for my head!

Second, I don't even have anything to wear! I can't possibly go to the ball, looking like a hunter that was about to catch his game.

Lastly, I can't for the life of me, go to the ball or else I would just turn everyone of them to stone!

So much for solitude. . .

I pouted again, my eyes watering. I am made up of insecurities right now.

I really wanted to go to the ball.