Martha loved winters. It was the idea of wrapping yourself up in countless layers of blankets and snuggling up in your armchair beside the fireplace which the girl most adored. Snowflakes wandering down elegantly outside the misted-up window and silently sit on the icy ground as the fireplace casted long shadows over the rusted rug beneath Martha's feet. The flames would curl and sway, flicking this way and that, crackling as they burn the dry wood mercilessly. Her features would be illuminated by the flickering light as her eyelids gradually closed, the corner of her lips tugged upwards slightly. The faint fragrance from the burnt pine lingering in the air reassured Martha's senses as the wind moaned and rattled against the window behind her. Nothing felt sweeter than those days when life was much simpler.
But buried deep down, little Martha had suspicions about Anastasia, her mother. Unlike the girl, there was just something unreal and eerie about Anastasia. Her face, fairly radiant, had a pale nature to it. Those eyes that hypnotised you were a piercingly sharp shade of grey. Eyebrows were arched perfectly over the curves before dispersing over the bridge of her delicate nose. She had plump lips that captured a deep shade of red and had the strangest curl to them. Framing her face were ebony-coloured curls, each falling to her hips elegantly.
Although Martha thought of her mother as an exceptional beauty, she couldn't quite place her finger on the huge differences between the two's appearances. The girl had soft caramel hair which fell past her shoulders in loose curls, the colour of her eyes matching the shade of the locks that brushed against her porcelain cheeks with every movement she made. She was never seen without a natural rose blush, brushed against her pale and lightly freckled face. She had the desire to be a ballerina but Anastasia disapproved deeply. But like every family, they had their secrets…
Her grey eyes wondered towards the window as she brushed a dark curl behind her ear.
"You know I would never hurt the child."
"Yes, my dear, but this is not right. It will ruin my reputation if I am caught." The words stumbled out of his mouth as he ran a shaky hand through his dishevelled hair.
Those cold, dark eyes which he had grown accustomed to snapped towards where he stood in the shadows, sending a shiver down his spine. All that the man wanted was the love of his life, a woman with the most captivating eyes, a dainty nose, and perfectly curled hair which fell down her back like a waterfall, but now, what used to be a beautiful and acquitted soul which he had adored had perished and in its place stood the power-hungry monster.
"You think that I am stupid?!" She hissed venomously, her pale hands gripping the armrests of her chair, as she jerked forward and created eye contact with the wide eyes that stared back at her in horror. A slight hint of remorse crept through her heart but she shoved it aside as memories came piercing through her mind like an icy storm.
Sighing in frustration, she slumped back into her armchair and focused her eyes onto the setting sun, her left hand supporting her chin as she leaned towards the large window.
"Do you have any idea what it was like to lose everything to that wretched woman?" Her voice quivered on the last words as her smoky eyes filled with rage. "That brat of my sister used her pathetic little charms to seduce HIM! He chose her over me and all I had was ripped away. I swore by God I would get my revenge and the time is now!" Fists slammed against the armrests as she stood up suddenly, the skirt of her black dress billowing around her. Short breaths escaped her trembling lips and her slender fingers gripped the fabric of her skirt.
"Anastasia, dear, I will rid this pain of yours."