(Ready to meet a new character (kind of) because this chapter is going to include someone fairly important!!! She's not exactly new, but she wasn't in the best condition when you first met her, so If say it's fair to call her new😉 Enjoy❤)
Sugarcoat my tears
And mold them into sweets
See if you can take my hurt
And mold it into treats
Or rip out my heart
And pour salt in my wound
Maybe that would hurt me less
Try both so we’ll conclude
-Evelyn-
Three loud bangs with a metal ring wake me.
“Good morning, b——.”
I sit up from my comfortable position, eyes shut closed from the sandman.
“You know most people have the common courtesy to not wake someone who’s sleeping,” my voice is raspy.
“You belong to me, so you wake when I tell you to. No ifs, ands, or buts.”
I stretch a bit and yawn.
“I see someone’s still bitter.”
I don’t care if I piss him off anymore. What’s he going to do, imprison me?
He tries to maintain his composure.
“A seamstress will be arriving here shortly for your dress fitting. I expect you to be on your best behavior.”
“Dress fitting? If you haven’t noticed, a dress isn’t the most ideal attire for a cell.”
“It’s for the ceremony, dumba—. I need you to be presentable.”
What’s so important about the stupid ceremony? I know that I haven’t paid much attention to his pointless lectures, but I doubt they could do anything to keep me here permanently. I’m sure I’d be able to break any chains they put on me.
“It’s in two days, so the girl better get that dress done quickly,” he growls.
Then the heavy door creaks open and a pair of feet come running.
“I’m so sorry that I’m late. I got lost along the way,” she says breathlessly.
“Just get it done,” he barks and walks away.
I guess that he opened the cell earlier because it was unlocked and he’s usually pretty strict about keeping it shut. The seamstress looks familiar. She has fine, blonde hair and pale grey eyes.
I stare at her more intently as she’s digging through her bag.
Now I remember. She’s the girl I healed after the attacks.
She pulls out a yellow measuring tape and unravels it a bit.
“Stand up straight with your arms straight out,” she says almost robotically. I comply and she starts measuring after a few adjustments.
It feels a bit odd to be completely silent, so I try to engage in small talk. I’d like to at least know her name.
“Hi, I’m Evelyn.”
“Meredith.”
Ok, well, maybe she just isn’t much of a talker.
“So….how's your day?” Dang, I feel as awkward as a middle schooler.
“It’s been fine.”
She maneuvers me again.
“Any ideas for the dress?”
YOU ARE READING
Fading Reflections
FantasyLocked away from the only family shes ever known, Evelyn is at the mercy of Cerin and the council. What will uncovering history reveal about the council? Why was Cerin so determined to get control over Evelyn? And will she ever be freed from his gra...
