~Look Down~
I.
There are mud stains her boots. Dirt covers her cheeks. All she carries is a small basket of food in her skinny arms. It is not hers.
Her jeans are torn and she fixes her gaze at the craggily street where she walks. Ignoring the calls for bread, for fruit, water. Anything.
She ignores them. She has to. It's how you survive now.
A small group of soldiers are walking towards her. She tries to shrink herself up so they won't see her. Please, please, please. She begs silently clutching the paper bag tightly.
Of course they see her.
They approach her. Their breath is sour. Their eyes leer at her, she know what they're thinking as they tug at the ratty fabric of her dress. Twirling the long dark tendrils of hair that frame her face.
She grits her teeth. Don't fight back, they'll kill you.
"Please," She says softly, "I- I have food for the King's table. He won't be happy if I'm late."
II.
The King. Pitch Black.
He was not always King, but before him there were many others. Once the land was free. That was so long ago, though.
Then there was a war. Then, there was a flu that swept throughout the world. There was suffering, starvation, and death. Even more than there is now.
Then a man rose up, claiming that he could create a new world. One made of gold and light. The people loved him and he ruled them fairly. At least that's what the teachers taught her in her few years of schooling.
No matter how it was then, It is dark now. Nightmares hide in the shadows and fear commands the people. Not light. Not gold. No hope. No wonder remains. All that's gray.
III.
The soldiers stiffen up and draw back. They hold their guns and snicker when the girl looks at them quickly.
"Go run to the kitchens, little bird." They call. She skitters from their grip and hurries away.
A plane flies overhead, probably carrying food to some of the other cities under Pitch's control.
The girl approaches a great wall. There is a small booth where a large man sits. His eyes are gray and his face his tired.
"Papers?" He says.
The girl holds up a small book with her picture printed on it, along with her information.
This gives her permission to move through the rings.
The man nods, and then pulls a lever. There's a great creak and the sound of scraping metal.
The gates open. The girl passes to the middle ring.
IV.
The people in the middle ring are comfortable. They dress in soft colors and look clean. They are better fed, but could probably do with more medicine. The guards there are more… accommodating, but that didn't stop them from beating a thief senseless for sneaking an extra loaf of bread for his sick daughter.
The girl winces at his cries as she passes. The law is the law. She chants. We must do everything Pitch says. She hurries past the less-shabby buildings to the next wall. The woman here recognizes the girl, since trips between the upper and middle ring are common.
"Papers?" She says sweetly. The girl holds them up.
The gates open. This is the Upper Ring.
V.
There are bright colors everywhere. The people are healthy and happy. At least, not the people who were born into servitude.
The girl slides around them. They look at her with disgust. Like she is a worm writhing in the mud at there feet.
She ignores them and passes their great buildings and grand homes to the center of town.
To the palace.
It's huge, and made of a dark material that is supposed to be bullet proof. But those are just rumors from the other maids in the palace. The girl has never seen an attack on Pitch's palace.
She never expects to.
She reaches the next gate and shows the guard her papers. She has spoken to him before. He could have just let her in. That is, if he wanted his fingers chopped off.
He opens the iron gates and she passes through. She cuts across a path, well hidden by plants and ferns.
She goes to the servant's entrance, an inconspicuous door at the back of the building.
She pushes it open and slides inside. She moves down a dark corridor, these are hidden within the walls of the palace. Pitch hates seeing servants unless he absolutely needs to.
She finds the right door and pushes it open.
She is overcome with noise and bright color, dancing like fire.
VI.
"There you are!" The head cook shouts, she's a large woman, with even larger breasts. "I've been wait'n on you for the oranges for an hour or so." She snatched the bags from the girl's arms and riffled through it. "Only two?" She asked, holding up the, very small, fruits.
"I had to go all the way to the third ring to find some." The girl replied, tying back her dark hair with a tie-dyed bandana.
The head cook sighs and begins pealing the oranges. "Just hurry to the dining room and set up an extra set of plates. I hear the Lord has some guests coming." The girl nods, grabs another set of plates and darts around the hurrying servants carrying platters and steaming bowls of food that she'd never be able to try.
She slips into the corridor, letting her hand slide along the wall, counting the doors until she hits the right one. Number thirty-five.
She opens the door silently and goes inside. The room is massive, with three crystal chandeliers hanging from a painted ceiling. The table is made from a dark wood and covered with a silver-embroidered thread.
Her feet clack softly against the marble floor as she begins to set the extra plates and spoons.
She's nearly done when she hears the door click open. She whirls around, her eyes widening with fear. "You must never be seen unless the master wishes it of you." She remembers the head cook telling her ever since she was small.
Then she sees him. His long black robe sweeps against the white marble, and his amber eyes glitter when they meet hers.
She instantly drops to her knees and bows her head.
She hears his soft footsteps coming closer, closer…
He's in front of her now. She knows it.
"Look at me." He says.
Since he is a king who could have her killed with a single word, she obliges.
VII.
He enjoys the sight of her. She has bright purple eyes that shimmer in the light, and long waves of dark brown hair that cascade down her shoulders.
Her skin is tan, with dirt smudged across her cheekbone, but that could be fixed easily. Her lips are pink.
He feels his lips spread into a grin as he offers her his hand. "Stand." He says. She hesitantly takes it and he pulls her to her feet, looking her up and down. She has a lovely figure. A bit skinny, but that could all be fixed with a little food.
"Tell me your name." He says. His eyes float to the brightly colored fabric in her hair.
"It's T-Toothiana." She says.
Toothiana… he smiles and places his hands behind his back.
VIII.
"I would like to see you in my room at seven o' clock, after my guests have left." He says promptly as he turns away. He pauses and his lips quirk slightly. "Be sure to dress nicely… Toothiana.
Tooth nods and he disappears behind the door. Her heart is pounding; breath flying in and out of her lungs as she quickly gathers her things. Her hands are shaking as she runs to the door hidden in the wall. She disappears inside, and runs to the kitchens.
A/N: I've never written anything like this before, so the style is very, very different for me… The story I'm planning is sweettooth with a little unrequited cavity thrown in. If I continue this it will probably be a side project from my main story, Bright Feathers and Dream Catchers, but tell me if you want more, and I'll gladly continue.