Author's note: I usually write in first person so this isn't going to be very good. Oh well, though. And progress will be slow, since I'm busy working on my novel...Have fun I guess
Mara screams in rage. Streaks of multicolored paint run along her apron, her hands, face, everywhere.
She tosses her paintbrush and lets it snap in half on the ground.
Three months. Mara spent three months working on this project and now she destroyed it!
Screaming and creaking, the stairs struggle under her weight. Dyed red and black hair tumbles to her shoulders in sloppy waves. Her usually pale face is heated and red, dulls her stunning eyes.
"Three months! Three fucking months of shitty, painful work!" She reaches the door at the top of the basement steps, slamming it shut as she exits. The few remaining decoratives on her shelves and walls clatter to the wooden floor.
Mara repeats several curses, stamping through the messy house.
As a failing artist, she is never in a better mood unless she's buying art supplies. Then she still finds something to complain about.
" Mara, Mara, dear what's--"
"Everything mom! It's all fucking garbage! All of it!"
"Don't use that language while I'm here! I will wash out your mouth with soap for that again!"
Mara scoffs at her mother's threat. "This is my house, Belle, and if you don't like the way I act here you can scuttle your old ass right out the front door!"
Her mother flinches, "Remember I was the one to raise you!"
Yeah...that's all I got so far. It's bad but I honestly don't care anymore.
rYaN wAs KnEeLiNg iN tHe BaThTuB
YOU ARE READING
Twisted
Short StoryMara Lyndell is an aspiring artist in Missouri. As her 21st birthday approaches, she is taken in the night by three strange men in masks. They reach the lovely city of Manyaré at an unknown location. She is treated to everything she ever wanted. The...
