It was dark, and Lily wasn't sure what time it was, or even what day it
was. After three weeks, she had lost hope of being rescued before the end
of the revolution, and contented herself with reliving memories of her
former life.
It was as if she was slowly slipping into madness, as all the other prisoners were. They were given food only to sustain their incarcerated life, and not enough water to quench their thirsts. Prisoners were not aloud to bather, or given clothes other than the ones they had arrived in. It was a living death, to be confined in that stinking cell, with no light but that which could peek through the bars of the infinitesimal window.
Time and time again Lily returned to the fresh memory of the old woman, but with each day it faded with all her other pictures of former grandeur. She could not remember her mothers face, or the glittering jewels and silks of her bedchamber. The only picture that stayed fixed in her perplexed mind was that of the Generals malicious smile and glittering blue eyes.
She had grown up in weeks, and Lady Lilee Marguerite Isabelle Èvans was no longer a scared little girl. She had found courage (yet she hadn't noticed it yet), grace, and a depth of mind she had not had before. It was as if she knew who she was, and I suppose if you had spent 6 months (as it turned out to be) in a dank prison reliving your previous life, you too would have a good idea of what lay behind your pretty face.
Yet life in prison was not a healthy thing for Lily. She developed, among her slight madness, a deep hatred for General games Potier, and a distrust of all men entirely.
By the time she would get out, Lily would have recovered her memory, and mind (but for a slight disregard for convention) yet her hatred would go on, embedded in her person.
A/N How very depressing. But whatever. Review please and I hope others read this too :(
It was as if she was slowly slipping into madness, as all the other prisoners were. They were given food only to sustain their incarcerated life, and not enough water to quench their thirsts. Prisoners were not aloud to bather, or given clothes other than the ones they had arrived in. It was a living death, to be confined in that stinking cell, with no light but that which could peek through the bars of the infinitesimal window.
Time and time again Lily returned to the fresh memory of the old woman, but with each day it faded with all her other pictures of former grandeur. She could not remember her mothers face, or the glittering jewels and silks of her bedchamber. The only picture that stayed fixed in her perplexed mind was that of the Generals malicious smile and glittering blue eyes.
She had grown up in weeks, and Lady Lilee Marguerite Isabelle Èvans was no longer a scared little girl. She had found courage (yet she hadn't noticed it yet), grace, and a depth of mind she had not had before. It was as if she knew who she was, and I suppose if you had spent 6 months (as it turned out to be) in a dank prison reliving your previous life, you too would have a good idea of what lay behind your pretty face.
Yet life in prison was not a healthy thing for Lily. She developed, among her slight madness, a deep hatred for General games Potier, and a distrust of all men entirely.
By the time she would get out, Lily would have recovered her memory, and mind (but for a slight disregard for convention) yet her hatred would go on, embedded in her person.
A/N How very depressing. But whatever. Review please and I hope others read this too :(