A Penchant for Death and Blood Red Roses, Among Other Things
A/N: This is just a teaser. Think of it as a prologue.
Darla picked up the compact mirror on her vanity table and looked into it, pretending she could see her reflection, that she could see the expression on her face, see if she looked tired or sad or if even the mocha colored eye shadow she wore looked attractive. She wished that she could see anything…anything that a normal girl could, just a reflection, just a glimpse, but she knew her desires were false and her wishes hollow, she wouldn't want to see her face, not really.
How could she live with herself then? How could she get up at dusk and live the rest of her unlife knowing what she'd done…what was done to her.
It was said of Drusilla that she had haunted eyes, but in truth it was Darla that was the haunted one, it had been she who'd had a difficult life at best, she who had wished to be dead, and she knew she was lucky to have gotten that wish. In her unlife no one would take advantage of her; no one would touch her without her consent, what she wanted she took freely and without remorse. It was her turn, no morals, no rules, just Darla, getting redemption for the wrongs committed against her in her short life, for dying when she was barely nineteen yet hardened to the cruelness of the world…redemption for that innocence that had been taken from her so long ago…
A/N: Want more? You know what to do, hit the little review button and tell me so.