Albino Child

Thirty One

I checked the clock as the smaller boy continued to murmur, to see the tragic sight of a delusional child trying so hard to keep his life together and not shatter under the truth was painful, it was too personal to him, I just could not keep watching; it was nearing the time for the societal meeting, I scowled once I realised that I was unprepared for this and that nothing was ready, I needed time to be allowed to obtain the maximum standard of achievement, my work was never done with sheer skill, it was time that allowed me to excel and execute projects with a cutting edge that brought me above the others – I had diligence and natural nimbleness that allowed for ultimate creation, I needed time for it, I hated having to rush this process but I may need to call upon Doll to help me.

"Yes Master," a familiar female voice stated coldly, the sound came from behind me as I pivoted round, "Shall I take him so you can concentrate," she asked as she gestured to N who was lying flat on the floor, running his eyes over the pattern upon the painted ceiling, I flinched as I imagined the amount of creasing that could have occurred over the precious fabric; I nodded at her request and she picked up the boy like a mother to a small child to carry him to my room where she would most likely undress him and let him nap.

I sighed contently, while the nostalgic emptiness that curdled in the room was unsettling, I could handle the settling stillness as I stood up and opened the lacquered mahogany closet and ran my hand through clothing that draped from the pinching teeth of the hangers; there were beaded, scalloped tops with ruffled bodices that cinched to emphasise and flatter the figures of the wearer to gothic corset-back ballgowns with black lace with a Rococo rose design hand-embroidered for a dark-romance effect partnered with pashmina shawls threaded with real silver thread, needless to say, there were a lot of clothes that I had created before I had met those miniature clones of myself in the facility. Speaking of them, I had not seen them as of late, mainly due to the fact I had not dared myself to go there in fear that God may be waiting in that seat like the condescending sadist he was; I brushed off the brief though before resuming deciding as to what to bring with me to the Fashion Elite monthly meet-up. I cared little for the group but I did need the money and connections to fuel my future, when you are not a blue-blood aristocrat, it is so much more difficult to create a platform for yourself – I was very much thankful for my appearance that made up for my unknown family history and lack of evidence to provide a reason as to why I have no parents. When I reached the elaborate, elusive mansion my uncle, God, we spent the day as like a normal family before eating an evening meal that I now believed to have been laced with medication to make us drowsy and amiable before sleeping with my mother in the night, I could recall every detail as to what I saw but quickly blocked them off as I collapsed onto the ground with a clattering thud.

I swiftly shook my head and resumed choosing as to what to bring with me to the meetup, I sighed as I pulled out all the creations I had made out of N's notebook, while I was able to design myself, I thought that in memory of her death I would go on to fulfil the ideas that were scattered through her latest sketchbook; there were actually five designs that were resided within her mind but I did not have the time to create all of them and had myself limited to my favourite four, I could always create the last of the designs for next month after all. The one I did not complete was a dying angel inspired stilettos that featured a broken wing design that was tied in to the shawl-like wrap that twisted behind the ankle to flowered out to paralleled the slimming collar that fluted out a third from the base of the calf to accentuate the rhinestone that petered out into the sides like multi-toned pink and blue wings from the central amethyst that was coloured similar to a quartz but the top and bottom facet had diffused hues of cobalt violet and mauve germinating from both sides; it was not the worst design to have created however, it would take N's skill, not mine, to have fashioned into the masterpiece the annotations had made it sound would have only been aby to be done by him for he was the only one who would be able to envision it from all angles to achieve perfection. The only problem was that N was lazy, to have enough patience to complete such a task to any degree near completion was near never going to happen; it would probably join the extensive, lengthy list of items that are half-done, too finished to be disassembled but not enough to be of actual use.

Grumbling miserably under my breath, I hauled the heavy drapery onto the large table began folding and arranging the items to fit into my trunk – a large metal briefcase whose outsides were lined with unobtrusive black pleather which the interior, polyester – this imitation was cheap and not of high quality but that did not matter, it got the job done; placing the compact clothing into the empty box, it soon became full of the sheer amount I had to bring with me. I snapped my fingers sharply and the Clown came tumbling out, he fell on the floor then nervously scrambled up as I pointed to the box in a cold, stern manner; he got the gist and took the box away, he was not the most aesthetically pleasing to look ay but at least he did as I asked, unlike that one.