Until Dawn

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: November 15, 2017

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Submitted: November 15, 2017

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Single, glistening tears graced the pale face, the pale, pale face illuminated by the moon. The rich chocolate hair trailed down her bare flesh, mixing with blood - Oh, the blood! - and the pain. Hollowed from fear and hollowed from truth, she curled into the shape of a sphere, closing her eyes greener than the greenest forest, her lashes darker than the darkest night. She soon drifted to the land of the dead, visited only by those in a slumber of pain, of heartache. She dreams of the day when her suffering may end, when those who torment her will meet their doom.

They loom above her petite frame, cold eyes staring deep into her soul. They laugh at her face, they love her pain. She screams and begs for freedom, freedom to be alone. Their faces haunt her, they follow her everywhere. She digs the palm of her hand into her ears, desperately trying to block out their voices, trying to escape what has been done.

 

You can’t break what has already been broken.

 

That’s right. She is broken. She is broken and ugly and worthless. She lunges off the cold, hardwood floor that provides her a place to sleep and places a hand on the dresser, trying to pull herself up. She moans softly, for she is forbidden to make any noise, and draws her arm up to her stomach. She struggles to stifle the flow of blood falling from the long burn she had received the day prior, thanks to her mistress.

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Her master had gone into a fury when she had closed her eyes on the job of choosing her master’s breakfast, and her master let out a horrified screech and whirled around. Her hands closed around the throat of a young servant boy, one who was already bringing the master’s breakfast along. The master howled with rage as she snatched up the candle, the candle that had been in which waiting to service her. The servant boy stood frozen, nicely contrasting the roaring flame in the master’s eyes when she flung the taper at the dear heroine of this story. The heroine, whom was currently bowing in a position similar to that of an angel, lowering her head to her sacred God, glanced up daringly, just in time for her evergreen eyes to catch sight of an alight candle soaring through the thick air, followed by the resounding thump of someone crashing to the ground.

The heroine slid to the ground, screaming as the melting wax trailed her bare abdomen. All the while, her master sat calmly in a chair, reminding her that she was lucky to be taken in a to have a roof over her head, how lucky was she, for she was a pathetic worm, useless and unloved, to be working for a beautiful princess like her master.

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The heroine stumbles atop the sleeping servants beside her, struggling to reach her goal.

“Come now, young one.” Her raspy voice is all but heard by all but one. The young servant boy looks up at her with hope- the hope that one day, one day soon, he and his sister my be free, free to live in peace, with none of the signs pointing towards the master. She beamed at him softly, the only light left in the dreary house on Hell Drive. She scooped the little boy up into her arms and almost immediately drops him, as the cruel master forbade her from eating, calling her fat, fat and unwanted. The young boy drapes her arm around his shoulders and aides her in limping over the still forms of fellow servants. She clutches her stomach and stifles her moan of pain on top his mop of shaggy brown hair. They make their way over to the tiny window, the only way to leave the god forsaken room they were housed in. They curled up together on the floor, the heroine lying down and the young boy pressing himself against her, seeking warmth and comfort. They turned their heads to the pitch black dome over the Earth, gazing at the glistening stars until they slumbered into the land of dreams, and all would be well.

Until dawn.

 


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