White...They put her in a slim, perfectly pearl white dress...did her black hair in braids laced with white ribbon...even more white. Bare feet in pretty white sandals that hit the ground with the softest of clicks...white...such a picture of purity. She seemed to shine in the bright spring sun, a golden halo encircling her raven locks...
How she despised it all.
"She'd be a pretty child if she weren't so corrupted..." they whispered as she sat in the chair, unmoving, during her sister's wedding reception. Hazel eyes were glued hard onto the table in front of her, no food on the plate. She was thinking now...always thinking...
How she'd get away from all of this.
"So, Lina, dear...Aren't you happy for your sister? Able to find such a suitable husband and all," her grandmother, a fat jolly woman, asked cheerfully. She was silent for a quick bit before what her grandmother said wafted into her mind wore by word, ever so slowly.
"She seems to be happy." was her quick reply. It was neither a lie, nor did she seem to mean it. She merely stated the facts.
Her grandmother cleared her throat, the conversation seeming a bit...tense. "Your brother is also happily married...I hope you have your sites set on the same thing!" she tried again.
"I'm only 17," came the second response, more brief than the last one. Her grandmother laughed, taking the girl's response as child-like wit, which was more charming than blunt words like those expelled by the girl.
She sat there in silence once more before pulling her chair from the table. "If you'll excuse me," she said flatly before walking away, the breezy white dress following her.
The grandmother immediately frowned. "That child..." she scoffed with disgust.
"She's been tainted, I swear..." every single person muttered as she breezed past them all, taking the back exit into the dark alleyway behind the brick building of the restaurant.
And as if this were just a normal day, she strode down the alley reeking of trash, vomit, urine...and blood.
"And there he stood...darker than the shadows around him...the only non dark color being the blood that dripped from his hands and the sharp knife he clutched in his hands. She didn't see the slashed up whore that was discarded on the filthy ground, features mangled beyond any possible recognition.
His eyes were red...just like that blood...paled skin, he was a ghost...one who harvested blood from the ones who were unlucky enough to meet death by his hands...and right then, she felt as if a crosshair was set on her forehead...death was now on her heels...he would be her grim reaper.
And so...she turned, and ran.
How she despised it all.
"She'd be a pretty child if she weren't so corrupted..." they whispered as she sat in the chair, unmoving, during her sister's wedding reception. Hazel eyes were glued hard onto the table in front of her, no food on the plate. She was thinking now...always thinking...
How she'd get away from all of this.
"So, Lina, dear...Aren't you happy for your sister? Able to find such a suitable husband and all," her grandmother, a fat jolly woman, asked cheerfully. She was silent for a quick bit before what her grandmother said wafted into her mind wore by word, ever so slowly.
"She seems to be happy." was her quick reply. It was neither a lie, nor did she seem to mean it. She merely stated the facts.
Her grandmother cleared her throat, the conversation seeming a bit...tense. "Your brother is also happily married...I hope you have your sites set on the same thing!" she tried again.
"I'm only 17," came the second response, more brief than the last one. Her grandmother laughed, taking the girl's response as child-like wit, which was more charming than blunt words like those expelled by the girl.
She sat there in silence once more before pulling her chair from the table. "If you'll excuse me," she said flatly before walking away, the breezy white dress following her.
The grandmother immediately frowned. "That child..." she scoffed with disgust.
"She's been tainted, I swear..." every single person muttered as she breezed past them all, taking the back exit into the dark alleyway behind the brick building of the restaurant.
And as if this were just a normal day, she strode down the alley reeking of trash, vomit, urine...and blood.
"And there he stood...darker than the shadows around him...the only non dark color being the blood that dripped from his hands and the sharp knife he clutched in his hands. She didn't see the slashed up whore that was discarded on the filthy ground, features mangled beyond any possible recognition.
His eyes were red...just like that blood...paled skin, he was a ghost...one who harvested blood from the ones who were unlucky enough to meet death by his hands...and right then, she felt as if a crosshair was set on her forehead...death was now on her heels...he would be her grim reaper.
And so...she turned, and ran.