A/N: This is honestly nothing special, this was just another little writing exercise of mine, based on my disturbingly dark mind once again. This is my own insight on what happened to Pacifica during the aftermath of Northwest Mansion Mystery, as soon as the final person had exited the mansion.

I can't help the constant Pacifica-centric stories, can't I? Who can blame me, she's such a precious little vixen. As I say in all of my stories, behold and beware.

I am practically a beauty queen right now...makeup skillfully handled, incarnadine lipstick tightening the strings around my mouth, my naturally straightened flaxen blonde hair perfectly curled and flowing down my face. I look like the overlord of goddesses, but it's a shame that no one can see me in that way any longer concerning these circumstances.

I still have the fuchsia boa I wore tonight, although no longer was it wrapped around my neck; instead, they've become the equivalent of handcuffs, tightened around my back using my clenching fists as an accessory.

I'm still wearing my royal purple satin dress, and it glistens beautifully in these underwater breezes. Hours and hours of struggling, attempting to break free, resulted in my high heels releasing themselves from my feet and descending down somewhere in these deep caverns of the sea.

Fragments of my own hair were tied tightly around the hollow of my throat, replacing where the silvers and golds of my severed jewellery had previously been. My lipstick has now smudged, as it is now blocked by my own curls being forcefully shoved down my throat, and breathing was almost a myth to me at this point, as my attempts to grasp on the remaining pints of air I have left underwater were fruitlessly futile.

Why I am receiving such a horrible punishment, you ask? Well, that following night, I had apparently committed the unthinkable. I had broken the centuries old curse that had been bestowed upon my family for their wrongdoings, and lifted the banishment of people that were not of higher wealth by allowing them into our party, and as a result, disobeyed my parents, who in all honesty, treat me like an uncultured swine born into slavery.

As soon as the very last spirit had exited our mansion, that was when the hell, the terror, and the beginning of how I ended up here, immediately struck. My mother started shouting obscenities at me, whilst my father restrained me from being able to escape his clutches.

Choking me, gagging me, and eliminating my breathing with my own blonde hair, bounding my hands beneath me with my own jewellery, they then proceeded to drag me into one of the many rooms we had stored in this giant manor.

This particular 'room', was only simply a tank, that contained nothing but water. I am unable to vividly recall the last words they uttered to me, although I believe it was something along the lines of using my full name and blabbering on about how much of a disgrace I was, and how I had to pay for bringing the family name to shame.

When they threw me in the tank, I knew. I knew instantly that I would be dead by midnight, and after almost a fortnight, no one would dare notice. I am unable to yell or emit a single trace of noise without water overriding my lungs, despite being bounded by my hairy restraints.

After they threw me in and never returned afterwards, I was met with the surroundings of a blue, irrevocable void, matching the colour of my eyes, and I could just feel it all fading away into a raven-black oblivion.

I have been fighting to survive, however simultaneously, I want to die. I deserve to die for my horrible past actions, yet I want to live on as the rarest in this generation of Northwests; I want to live on as the only Northwest in millennia that actually had a heart...even if that meant sacrificing myself to martyrdom and murder. It will be painless, it will be painless.

I guess you could say that my life's a mess, but I'm still looking pretty in this dress.