Captured
- Reads 789
- Votes 4
- Parts 14
Ongoing58m
Last published Tue, Mar 10, 2015
"If poision can be any shade of color why the term of love haft to be red" alice remark. Staring at her glass of wine in emotional silence
In 1893 a young lady who is known for intelligence far further than her class. She never spoken to anyone other than her doll garllete England finest poem contest is at high swing but with a twisted prize
" I heard the prize of this years contest is a boy" one of the judges whispered " ."a boy isn't it the lad from the foreign lands" the mistress speaker remarked "Yes! How on gods green earth a rubbish prize like that is going to please the winner" he scorn, straining to keep under a whisper.
"More importantly how or what am I suppose to do with a slave who doesn't have no future" Alice thought.
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