Any evening can turn into a story. This one just adds to the list of sad ones.
A friend sent word of a party the day before, and although swamped with a billion chores, I decided to accept the invitation. I inquired of other guests considering his dwelling passed through a marsh, a particularly eerie marsh once the sun set. Nobody could join me. I thought nothing of it. I had lived in this area my entire life, thus increasing that unreasonable comfort gained from the familiar. This marsh may have cast large shadows, but I had been through it often at dusk, and I truly needed to escape the daily drum of life.
The day of the party I grabbed my purse, stuffing it with my favorite red, a Bordeaux, lipstick, my powder, and my invitation. Upon entering the placid marsh, I realized a pertinent detail forgotten– It had rained. The marsh resembled an ocean with specs of grass downing in their normal home. It was too late to turn back. My absence would be noted and cause me much grief to explain. The sun lowered his head in ominous amusement as I hopped from floating deadwood to floating deadwood, trying to keep my lovely gown from slipping into the edges of the solemn, dark waters.
I am unsure how it all happened, but I vaguely remember the path becoming precarious. I must have lost my footing somehow, and down I went. On the way down, a last thought lingered: How would I explain my appearance to the guests of the party?
When my eyes opened, I first recognized a metallic taste upon my lips. My finger glazed over them. They were dry and crusted. I glanced to find my purse and my lipstick within it, but it was no where in sight. I figured it must have been swept away by the waters. The moon emitted a harsh halo, blinding me temporarily. Dizzy, I finally decided to pushed myself up.
My eyes followed my hand down into the waters, but they stopped upon a reflection: Hair, deep and black, flowed over a shoulder, and skin, gray and translucent, gleamed in the night. I pooled the water with my fingertips, grasping at the figure below, dispersing the image into fragments. This could not be. My blonde hair. My pink skin. My beautiful gown. The reflection slowly formed again, and I starred deep into the eyes. My eyes. A deep red covered my mouth and bled into the rest of my face. A hunger bellowed within me I had never experienced, and my surroundings shriveled until I could only see distorted images.
This was ages and ages ago. As I roam the night looking for lost souls, I often think of my days before when all I wanted was to deviate from my mundane, trivial life. How I yearn for those days again.
Dress: Junbug @ We ❤ RP
Skin #1: Glam Affair-Neva-Artic @ Collabor88
Skin #2 The Skinnery @ We ❤ RP
Purse-Glow Studio-Sheep wool clutch bag
Place: Annwn Willows