Blue Sunflowers [discontinued]

13

T H I R T E E N : l i l s i s

In the footsteps of the elder followed the younger, her tiny prints barely making any marks in the hourglass of their family history. Urie Reiss and Lady Reiss were one of the predecessors buried under the sand, unseen, concealed. Their bones rot and disentigrate into dust, adding into the desert of time.

Her father's voice shook her to her very core of her humanity, his commands contradicting greatly to her heart's wishes, causing her mind dwell and and fall into insanity.

"This should do." Florian Reiss put down her pen, straightening the wrinkled parchment. Her golden hair was undone, her bottom lids puffy from all the weeping she had done all morning, all because of her father's wishes.

Clutching the letter close to her chest, along with a photograph of Historia, her half-sister she was fond of before, but disappeared, not even knowing her whereabouts.

Biting her lip, she traced the rough strands, believing that she could do it. . . Yes, she could do it.

Her fingers skillfully folded the paper in half, placing it on the edge of her king-sized canopy bed.

The younger daughter walked to the bathroom, taking a good look of herself. She was beautiful, she was loved, she was cherished but key word - was.

Her lips gave herself a small, sad smile, before closing her eyes, a tear escaping. She mouthed two words, two words that defined forgiveness.

She craned her neck to look at the ceiling, sighing. Her heart was too grievous, a cumbersome burden carry, just as she is. The weight of the world and her father's reputation was upon her weak, fragile shoulders.

Taking a step forward, she gasped as she felt her breath get squeezed out of her, the sensation making her extremely claustrophobic as she wore her desired necklace. Her foot swung back and forth, as if to do the stepping of the dance chacha.

Her sapphire eyes gave one good look at their family portrait displayed across the open bathroom door, happily recounting her days with them. She could see herself in the middle, not older than five, smiling sheepishly as her eldest sister, Frieda, stood behind her, with the eldest son, Urklyn, beside her. Abel was standing right their parent's loveseat, and Dirk, the youngest son, to the left, where their mother sat since he was mama's boy.