TW: This is not a pretty story. There will be death and loss and the implication of the ugliness of human nature. But there is beauty and kindness there as well.

Majorly triggering material will be mentioned beforehand in each chapter, however I will refrain from censoring the story itself. This is a "mature" story. Not only in content, but also in its concepts and execution. I don't mean to undermine anyone's intelligence, but a mature mind would be most suited for the content presented.

They are all my little dolls. I put them in a playhouse of my own construction. I allow them to scuffle about, follow them carefully, push them along when they need assistance. When playtime gets too rough, I have choices to make. I can allow them out of the playhouse, I can pick them up and dust them off and put them back on their shelves-back to those they belong to. But really, what fun would that be?

-BabyDoll

CHAPTER I: FOR THE PRINCESS

There is no such thing as a happy ending-at least not in the real world. Joy cannot be experienced without pain, because it is not possible to know one without knowing the other. Life is pain. This is a reality that we are shielded from during childhood. Humans go to great lengths to shield their young from the reality of pain. A bandage for a small scratch. A kiss on the head for a nightmare. Innocence is bliss, they say. But what happens, when ultimately, that innocence is ripped away?

An eager little girl sat with her father in an Arabian horse-driven cab that clucked along the stony road. She sat with her feet tucked under her, hidden by her ankle-length white pearl dress, as if she had just returned from mass. She leaned towards the yellow window of the cab to stare out at the passing Gothic buildings with an old-fashioned inquiry in her large eyes. A stream of wind flew in through a rather large crack in the window and she squinted, her honey brown eyes watering.

A heavy night autumn fog was hanging low onto the worn road. Laura could make out a rather large metal-cast sign at the front of a similarly eerie gate, where the carriage stopped accordingly to manually open it.

Miss Morgan

Select Seminary for Young Ladies

Her father kept her tucked into his side even as the carriage slowed to a stop, jerking forward and back again.

Although it wasn't nearly cold enough for winter clothing, her father had required Laura to wear her small simple white gloves and large white beret that covered her ears. The carriage door was opened and she hopped down to the grown despite the protests of both the cab driver and her father.

"Laura, dear, do be careful-no, do not jump-! Reginald, get her luggage, my good man-Laura!"

Her father was a large, muscled, gruff man, not a white strand to be found atop his head or his full beard. And although he meant an intimidating front, he had an embarrassingly large soft spot for his only daughter.

Laura's inquisitive gaze turned into something much wider as she gazed up at the pretty castle. Well, it was more of a mansion, like her grandfather's winter house. But Laura liked to imagine that every large place was a castle, where she could explore and find discover secrets and make friends with dragons and princesses and-

"Laura! Don't scour the trellis wall just yet, you little rascal!"

Laura froze as her leg reached to hook into the next foothold. She heard her father chuckle heartily behind her before she was lifted by her small waist and turned to find herself face to face with her father.

He was inquiring her sternly but Laura knew he was secretly pleased with her. "I needed to asses the B.F.N, captain! If the Axis powers decided to attack from the front, we'd be completely vulnerable at our sides!"

Captain Hollis almost choked on his own saliva at his daughter's language. Maybe she'd been spending a little too much time around the fleets… Captain Hollis nodded readily. "Yes yes, very good observation, Lieutenant Hollis. Let's scan the inside for allies, shall we?"

Laura grinned as she clambered down her father's front down to the ground, and stepped up to the large embroidered Oliver wooden doors of the front of the school.

The buildings were rather large- even for a boarding school meant to house just over 20 students- it's grey-bricked exterior and red shading made it give off a rather ominous atmosphere, and it's pale green tiled roofs seemed miles away from the ground. The two buildings connected into each other at a side; everything was surrounded by a great big black fence, with security spikes at the tops made to look like Gothic decor. It's once green lawn and fields were now a dried tan color, and the leaves of once full, historic elements of nature were gathering sadly on the ground.

Laura didn't seem to mind the school's dreary exterior. She imagined it was much bigger on the inside.

In time she would find her imagination was correct.

Captain Hollis had already used the lion-plated door-knocker and the odd pair waited while their luggage was being hauled up the concrete steps by the carriage driver.

In a moment, the giant wooden slabs were delicately swung open, revealing the beautifully tall figure of a woman.

The first thing Laura noticed about the woman was a mess of bright orange shiny hair pulled together as nearly as possible into a low ponytail, tied with a long grey ribbon. Her tired eyes were strikingly blue, and the smile on her face was motherly and sincere.

Laura was slightly starstruck by the look of the woman.

Her beautiful curls bounced as she lowered herself to Laura's height and adjusted the white beret atop her small head. "Hello there. You must be Laura."

Laura grinned widely in return. "I am! Lieutenant Hollis, reporting for duty, ma'am!"

The woman gave a wink to Captain Hollis, who was standing behind his daughter. She laughed sweetly. "Well Lieutenant Hollis, you're needed in the main bunker right away, then I'll give you a personal tour of the fort."

Laura nodded determinedly. She decided this woman was very good.

Captain Hollis spoke up from behind his daughter as they were invited in. "Thank you, Mrs. Perry. I won't stay long; I'm just here to see that Laura settles comfortably. I'm worried about the potential separation anxiety she might face." He glanced over at his daughter, who was gazing around the mansion inquisitively from a few yards away. "I've never been apart from her for very long."

Mrs. Perry smiled fondly. "Not to worry, Captain Hollis. The Morgan Mansion has all of the latest accommodations for educating and entertaining children, and ensuring a proper transition into a young lady. I'm sure she was very popular at home; she'll fit right in here."

Captain Hollis scratched the back of his neck nervously. "I would hope so. Laura's a little...odd. I'd imagine her upfront charisma would be a bit unsettling to the prim young ladies that have been seasoned to exclude strangeness." He removed his cap accordingly. "I do worry."

Laura, meanwhile, had been gathering her bearings. She'd assessed the main grand hall of the entrance, that gave view to twin staircases on either of its sides. A beautifully crafted crystal chandelier hung from the tall ceiling, glistening in the natural light coming in through select () windows. One side of the hall lead through a wide archway; it was likely a dining hall of some sort. To the other side, another twin archway. In the back of her mind she knew her father was far out of sight, but Laura's curiousness overcame the potential fear. Laura had been correct, the interior of the mansion was enormous. The ceilings stretched well over 15 feet, with dark oak furniture all dusted and polished to a tee, and expensive looking hand-embroidered rugs, and white fluffy carpet that seemed to stretch for miles in the room she was in. Laura imagined that it was a rather large tea room; her aunt had had one at home. White leather was stretched over three separate loveseats in the middle of the room, with accompanying side-tables and a large coffee table placed askew in the middle of it all. A large mantled gas-powered fireplace was clicking away at burning wood at the far right of the room, and the walls were coated with dark Browns and reds of old-century themed wallpaper. Laura crossed the room by its sides, not wanting to dirty the snowy carpet with her outside shoes. Her tiny hands trailed along the thick walls as she tiptoed along the edge of the caret, sliding this way and that to achieve the best possible angle.

She lept out of the far framed archway once she had reached the other side of the room, and gave a beaming smile of accomplishment as she glanced back towards the still-sparkling room. Laura found herself in a large hallway. A large, state-of-the-art kitchen was right across from the tearoom, To the far down to the right of the hallway was a rather small set of staircases that lead seemingly to nowhere. She trotted over curiously.

Her hands grabbed the side of the railing on the first set of staircases and leaned over the edge, peering upward. She couldn't make out anything but heavy darkness. A low whistle blew in from the half-opened window to the side of the hall.

"An attic?" Laura wondered aloud, her inhibition, (or, what was left of it) disappearing slowly as her small shoes found themselves moving slowly up the inclining staircase; the steps creaked heartily.

Eventually, after the ascent had lead her just past the first set of steps, she found herself peering up again into the borderline inviting blackness. Laura had never been one to be afraid of the dark Why, she wondered, would one fear the unknown? If it were to happen, it was to happen. There was no point in worrying about every consequence. Laura bounced on her toes, stopping right before the fourth step. Then why wouldn't she dare venture any further?

Suddenly, strong hands were clasping her waist and lifted her up and off of the staircase.

"There you are, princess! Off of that, now."

Laura was set back down and she rubbed her sweaty palms on the fabric of her dress. "Papa there's something up there. I can feel it!"

Mrs. Perry was quickly at Captain Hollis' side. "Laura, up there is not a place for little girls like you. You'd best stay where you belong." She leant down to adjust Laura's beret. "Now, we have to get moving. The Dean is eagerly awaiting to meet you.

As Mrs. Perry led them back down the hallway towards the front of the house, Laura took in the heavy black sheer doors that she had not previously noticed, nestled directly between the two main stair cases. Mrs. Perry stepped aside after the had opened one of the two doors, politely smiling at the pair.

Captain Hollis straightened his coat, Laura saw, and she flattened down the gained wrinkles on the pearl sheer of her dress. She wasn't sure of what it was that dawned over them as they stepped into the dark room, but Laura knew that it wasn't good.

Not at all.

The dim light didn't care to greet them; shadows casted over the room and from what she could make out, there was a rather stern looking woman sitting in the middle of the room behind a large 18th century desk in a rather high-spined leather chair. Everything in the room was neat and kept, artifacts of various time periods aligned the dusted shelves on either sides of the room.

Laura's small hand found the thick fabric of her father's uniform slacks and she gripped tightly as they walked, suddenly not wanting to leave her father's side even as they sat down in individual settees just a foot away from the desk and a foot apart from each other. Everything seemed very precise.

The dean was a rather tall woman, Laura could tell, even while she was sitting. Her posture was rigid and unmoving, bleach blonde hair tied into a bun so tight and perfect that Laura wondered if the woman could even blink without it hurting. She began to speak with her father, Laura knew, but she couldn't seem to comprehend what the exchange was about. She recognized it may have been in relation to herself, but she couldn't tell. The woman's voice was unpleasantly sharp and low. Her octave was high, and seemed agonizingly faux in nature. It made Laura want to clamp her hands over her ears and yell very loudly, even as the words were slightly muffled by her beret.

Laura opted for staring at the ground, her hands fisting in her lap. She began to wonder if she would really like this place. Optimism was her middle name (not literally of course; it was actually Jane) but this room alone seemed to be chipping away her exterior like a dull knife. Mrs. Perry seemed like haze of motherly warmth that Laura had known only a few moments in her short lifetime that was truly genuine. Others had pitied her supplying a fleeting moment of care, before they too left her alone...

"Go ahead, Laura."

The small girl's head whipped up to her father. She stared, wide-eyed, not having heard what was asked of her. A brief glance of panic towards the Dean told Laura that something was expected. She pleaded with her eyes to have her father repeat what he had said.

The Dean rose an expectant, perfect eyebrow at Laura.

The small girl cowered into herself. Never before had she found herself perfectly speechless, save for the few months that she'd spent in absolute silence after-

"Miss Hollis, do tell! I'm quite sure you have developed many theories after reading such...adult literature."

It suddenly clicked in Laura's brain that Ms. Morgan was inquiring about her Kipling reading. She spoke almost reverently. "Yes, ma'am. I do believe that Roger Kipling should be the one to win the '07 nobel prize, ma'am." Laura's small hands suddenly felt clammy and foreign as she wrung them out under the thick wood of the desk.

The Dean's brow rose in surprise. "Oh? Do tell. I would have bet Roger Human would be the one to earn the right."

Laura shook her small head."The Nobel Prize in Literature should go to Kipling...because of his observation, originality of imagination, virility of ideas and remarkable talent for narration." Laura found the strength to glance up towards the Dean for a fraction of a second before her eyes darted down to her lap again. "Because of those reasons, I think. Maybe..."

A sheet of deathly silence fell over the room and Laura cringed. Clearly Ms. Morgan disagreed with her views.

A pause.

"What an original child!" Ms. Morgan exclaimed through her carefully practiced grin. "What a darling creature!"

Captain Hollis nodded approvingly, smiling down at Laura. "Yes, my little Laura has developed an unusual cleverness. Her imagination and curiousness is one of the most developed I have ever seen." Captain Hollis chuckled heartily. "The (housewives) that resided (the base) absolutely adored the child."

"Well then, it seems we have a little princess on our hands!" Ms. Morgan was a fraction away from shrill as her steely gaze shifted to the chair adjacent to Captain Hollis.

Laura's father knew none the wiser, and smiled heartily back. "Indeed. My little Laura should be guarded and cared for at all costs." He nodded sternly. "No expense shall be spared."

The Dean's tone reminded Laura of the officers that he father worked with. Stern, expectant, and right about ready to spit in your face.

Laura wanted nothing more than to disappear into nothingness much like the mist that was gathering outside. She was ready to shake her head ashamedly when a light tap was heard against the closed doors of the office room.

Laura noticed Ms. Morgan's perfect jaw clench before she responded to the sound.

"Enter."

Mrs. Perry's lovely head of curls popped in. "Forgive my interruption but Captain Hollis'transport just rung. His carriage will be arriving shortly." Perry's bright blue found Laura's own sadly. "I expect Captain Hollis would like a moment alone with his daughter."

Laura heard the Dean give a crude, short laugh.

"Yes, children are so dependent. The separation might prove too much for her feeble heart. After all, the trauma she experienced after her mother's death might had already-"

Laura's small, gloved hands gripped the polished wooden armrests on either side of the chair. She felt them slip. "I should like to bid farewell to my father in private." Laura noticed the Dean's brow raised, astonished at being effectively cut off by a pint-size child.

Laura felt very proud of herself; her voice, however small, had not wavered during her request. No, it wasn't a request.

It was a command.

A grim line of a smile formed unwillingly on the face of Ms. Morgan. She nodded once, a robotic gesture likely developed from years in acquaintance with the rich and powerful. "Please." She waved a delicate looking towards the door, and Laura and her father stood politely.

Laura had never before felt so relieved to have exited a mere room.

She watched as her father gave his sincerest regards to Ms. Morgan and she nodded in all the right places, assuring Captain Hollis that his daughter will only be treated with the utmost care and finest opportunities.

Ms. Perry led them up the main left staircase of the house, up towards a long hallway with large, white, embroidered doors on either side. The tension grew heavy like a sheet of cotton wool that nearly choked Laura. In a few minutes, she realized, her father would be gone. The thought didn't shock her as much as she assumed it could, but the fact that she would be surrounded by goodness for the next few month made her more confident in the situation.

The strikingly beautiful woman stopped in front of a hallway of similarly-styled doors on either sides of the walls. She smiled politely at the father and daughter, not wanting to impose her presence on the two as they went to say their goodbyes. "This is your room, Laura. Your roommate's name is Miss Elizabeth Anne Speilsdorf; she's boarded with us for a few years now and would be happy to help you settle in."

Laura nodded accordingly, doing her best to keep up a brave front. Her hands awkwardly fiddled on the doorknob of her new room while her papa and Ms. Perry exchanged parting pleasantries.

"Yes Captain, I'm sure we will. I wish you only the best of luck and pray for your safe return."

Laura waited until Ms. Perry had retreated back down the mahogany-railed staircase.

The interior of the boarding room was almost as beautiful as the entrance of the mansion. Everything was clean and polished on both sides of the room, although one side in particular looked as though it was occupied. White sheer canopies fell over two twin beds on both sides of the room, complete with matching side-tables, dressers, and 18th century writing desks. A large, curtained window rested on the right wall of the large room, where the shining glory of daylight seemed to seep in through the dark clouds that had shrouded the skies upon their arrival. Laura gaped in awe. The room was truly beautiful. And so, she voiced her thoughts.

"Papa it's so PRETTY!" Laura ran about the room, her beret discarded on the ground as she examined every nook and cranny. She turned to her father, grinning, her missing bottom tooth clearly visible. "Would you imagine any secret passages? I mean, this mansion is quite old; there's probably some pretty suitable hiding places. And that about the food? Do you think we'll have cookies with every meal? My teacher back home said something along those lines, yes I think she did-frosted ones! Papa do you-" Laura was panting now, out of breath from her own excitement. She turned to see her father resting atop the window seat that accompanied the large window. She huffed and trotted over. "Papa, are you listening?"

Captain Hollis was regarding his child with equal measures of pride and sadness. Will you be alright here, my little princess? ¨

Laura wrinkled her nose at that. The idea of being a princess was never all that appealing to her. She'd much rather be a brave, heroic knight who could not only save someone else, but would help them to defend themselves as well. Surely papa would understand her way of thinking and even consider it more appealing than a boring story. Laura loved stories; she hated to see any type of story to go unnoticed. "I think. papa," she began, placing both of her little hands on either sides of her father's gruff face. "That I would like to be a knight." Much to her surprise, her papa chuckled heartily before scooping her up into his lap. "My brave little Laura…" He patted down her frazzled gold locks. "If you should like to be a knight, then you may. But understand that with being a knight, comes many responsibilities. Ones that entail much more danger than being a princess."

Laura nodded readily, her faux curls bouncing. "Yes, papa. I would still be a knight."

Her father sighed somewhat defeatedly, but he did not let his emotion show. "Just be sure to promise me, Knight Hollis, that you will try not to get into too much danger."

He brushed her soft hair away from her face. "Bravery does not translate into stupidity. And my little girl is anything but dim."

The little girl huffed. "Well I should hope not! Why, I probably know more than the older boy next door. Rotten boy." Her round cheeks puffed. "He pulled my hair the other day, you know!"

Captain Hollis listened to his daughter with great fondness in his eyes. He'd memorized every expression, every temperament of his daughter's being since the day she had entered the world. The room and accommodations were nice enough-he had made sure of this. He would spend every last dollar if it meant that Laura was safe and happy. Captain Hollis smiled sadly. This all meant that he would be separated from his quaint little comrade very soon.

Laura was unaware of her father's dilemma. She had important things to say, and felt as though this was the right time to do so. She expressed herself as best she could. "It hurt, papa, it did!" Laura rubbed the spot on her scalp as if she could still feel its sting.

Captain Hollis chuckled again. "He means to say that is is fond of you."

Laura breathed deeply. This was her chance. "Well, I'm not of him!" Laura slid off her father's lap with vigor. "I don't believe I'll ever be fond of a boy." she said, somewhat mumbling, her dark hazel eyes trained on the expensive black carpet. "My friends at home write affectionate notes to the blonde boys at school. Absolutely covered in crude hearts and ribbons and locks. I don't understand it. I don't feel anything when I look at a boy. Emptiness at best I would guess."

Papa Hollis considered this for a long while before speaking again. He could tell that Laura was quite serious about this issue, and perhaps she even felt conflicted about speaking about this with him.

Laura felt her small palms grow sweaty, as if she were admitting something secret about herself.

"I love you, my Laura." Her father said, drawing her near by her small wrists. "And I will love whomever you choose to love as well. But please," he poked her chest lightly with his pinky. "don't keep all of that love to yourself. Your love is meant to be shared with the world or it will swell and deflate with loneliness."

Laura considered this in turn. "Then I shall love the loneliest of people most. Because that means that they have more love to share than anyone else."

Captain Hollis smiled down at his daughter with great pride. How she understood so much in so little time of being on this Earth, he couldn't even comprehend. He spoke silently to his wife. 'How proud you would be of our daughter, Anna.'

"Well then." He brushed back her dark honey locks. "You must look your very best if you hope to find a soulmate. Messy girls don't get to find their soulmate."

Laura huffed. "Yes papa. I scrub my face and pin my hair into curls every night. Though they never seem to stay." Laura tugged at a lock of her long hair, watching as only the ends bounced back into a loose curl while the top half remained straightened. "Although I wouldn't mind terribly if some of these dresses were to go poof!"

"Now there's not much I can do about that. Besides," he took her tiny hand in front of him and twirled her involuntarily. "you look absolutely beautiful. A proper young lady."

Laura huffed defeatedly. "You wouldn't believe how difficult it is to run in a dress, papa; it's practically a crime!" She wrinkled her nose at the clean white ensemble.

Captain Hollis nodded knowingly. Lighter colored outfits never lasted his Laura more than a few weeks.

"No matter." She smoothed out the wrinkled portions of her dress dutifully. "Besides, it doesn't look nearly as beautiful as when Mama would wear it…"

Captain Hollis' heart sunk. He knew that Laura usually preferred to keep silent about her mother. This had been a big day for her indeed. He tucked his hand under her small chin to lift it upwards. Her large, bright eyes still shone with bright twinkles despite her gloom. "You are part of her, Laura. She's right by your side wherever you go. A beautiful angel flittering her wings beside you even in the darkest of nights."

Laura's lashes fluttered shut, but try as she might she couldn't feel the flutter her father was describing so vividly. "It's very hard, papa. Is she really there?"

Captain Hollis released his daughter's small hands to search his front pocket. After unclasping the front royal blue button, he slipped his hand inside and pulled out a small silver chain with a dangling locket sliding to adjust to the gravity. The locket twinkled as the locket untwisted itself and Captain Hollis held it up to his daughter.

Laura cupped her hands as her papa slipped it into her palms. The small silver locket was worn but masterfully designed, in a delicate heart-shape with a mirror centerpiece. Her eyes widened curiously. "It's so pretty, papa!"

Captain Hollis gently retrieved the locket from his daughter and undid the small chain clasp with careful fingers. "It was your mother's. I gave this to her on our wedding night." He placed around Laura's neck and slipped her hair out from under the chain. The small heart rested beautifully on the soft skin of her collarbone. Laura grinned before twirling. "She's with me."

Captain Hollis watched his daughter, a small, brave smile upon us own gruff face. He would long for his little girl dearly as he awaited the outcome of the war. As the two embraced tightly, and with the combination of the radiator and each other, it was difficult to imagine that in just a few weeks, Captain Hollis would be tucked away in wet, dirty trenches with bodies strewn over him and a rifle clenched in his fists. They silently prayed that God would favor the British.

Laura stared down from her windowsill down to the street, where the buggy driver was busy stacking her father's luggage up neatly. From her warm, homey boarding room, Laura could see the front of the school at an angle, where her father and Mrs. Perry were conversing by the large double doors of the front. After a moment, she watched her father as he tipped his Captain's cap to Mrs. Perry, who had her handkerchief flowing in a traditional farewell fashion. Her father turned up to Laura's window. Laura knew that he could not see her small figure sitting at behind the grimey window, but he knew she was there regardless. He raised his hand in a solid salute, the tips of his fingers resting stiffly against his forehead. Laura scrambled to her feet at the gesture, blinking her eyes rapidly when she felt a thin film cast over her eyes. She stiffened her arm in a proper salute, her short legs straightening and head held high. Her eyes met her fathers through the yellow glass. Laura needed to be strong. She would not cry. She could not cry. No matter how much it pained her little gentle heart, she needed to be a big girl until her father returned.

She held her salute until her father lowered his own.

And after a brief moment, her father was out of sight, having slipped into the metal-cased buggy and becoming nothing more than a pinpoint on the horizon. Her wrist had ached from waving, but her cheeks remained dry, to her greatest pride. She knew her papa would relish in her bravery.

Laura hopped off of the window seat, and nodded to herself.

"We'll be roommates." Elizabeth shook Laura's hand with vigor, making Laura's small arm flop about. "Which means that as of now, we're best friends."

Laura's head cocked to the side. She wasn't sure if Elizabeth was supposed to be her best friend, but she would try her best for sure. She would try her best for those who needed her. "Alright, Elizabeth. I'll be your friend."

Elizabeth laughed, flipping one of her pigtails over her shoulder only to have it bounce back into place. "Only mum and dad call me that."

Laura felt heat rise up in her soft cheeks. How was she supposed to know what to call her new friend? She intended to ask, but the fancy blonde spoke up beforehand.

"Call me Betty. That name is très moderne, don't you think?" she spoke again in crude French, and Laura giggled. This girl was truly bouncy.

"Professor Lillibridge taught me that. You'll probably have to learn it, but don't worry! I'll teach you!" Betty flipped her hair again before strutting across the room to her dresser. "Since we're gonna be best friends, I'll let you borrow my things. People keep giving me all of this pretty jewelry and clothes, it's oh too much!" Betty daintily waved her hand in the air, in a faux snobby manner, before reaching up on her tiptoes to snatch a few beaded necklaces in her tiny fist. She held them up to Laura with a smile and a raised brow.

Laura skipped over to her own bed and plopped down into a sitting position. "Why?"

Betty laughed, placing various necklaces around her own neck and slipping on fancy-looking rings. "Whatcha mean, why?"

Laura kindly declined the assortment of necklaces and earrings Betty offered her, then shrugged. "Well, don't you find it a little strange that you're getting so many things all of a sudden?" Laura's head cocked as she watch Betty twirl around in front of her, the necklaces glittering in the light of the open window. "Why do you think they gave them to you?"

Betty stopped twirling slowly, staring at the wall with a curiously blank gare. Betty thought for a minute, as if she'd never questioned the sudden influx of gifts before. She shook her head, pigtails bouncing. "It's clearly because I'm so much fun to be around; the teachers just seem to appreciate my amazing nature!" she said, matter-o-factly.

Laura nodded in agreement. Surely, she supposed, that nothing negative could come from receiving so many nice gifts.

And so, Laura decided to accept Betty's offer and indulge in the finer things.

After bed, Laura was forced to face herself in the mirror. She pressed her hands up to her cheeks, squishing them in. Laura always thought her face was a bit too round. When she'd asked, many insisted it was due to her younger age-some had even called it "baby fat" which she did not appreciate. The youngest member of her school, a tiny blonde four-year-old named Lottie Jeremoth, was only slightly smaller than Laura herself. She huffed with displeasement, before shuffling off to her room again.

She yawned, rubbing at her travel-tired eyes with the sleeve of her nightgown as she made her way back to her shared room.

A faint, shrill voice brought her back to attention. She frowned, turning back around and nearing the staircase that led back down to the ground floor. There it was again; someone was yelling. Laura's investigative tenancies were flaring, but somewhere, deep within her mind, a small voice was telling her to leave it be. To go to bed.

Laura ignored it.

The yelling, she realized as she began her slow, quiet trek down the nobel staircase, was not simple yelling-it was arguing. Her journey to the bottom of the stairs rewarded her with a few audible choice words.

"...not appropriate, unacceptable- do you want….end up like them?!"

Laura squinted, even in the dark of the mansion she could make out the open door of the Dean's quarters. The Dean was standing in her usual rigid form, towering over one of the upholstered hairs that Laura and her father had sat in hours before. Laura could not tell what was currently occupying the seat was that was the target of the Deans' vehemence, but she could see the top of a small head of dark raven hair that just barely poked out from the back of the chair.

Laura squinted again, and she could spy the edge seams of a perfectly placed uniform bow at the back of the small head, one that all the girls were required to wear with their school uniforms. 'A student, then' she supposed. But as of this time, all students were required to be in their beds...why would one be allowed to stay awake? The person sitting in the chair was no bigger than Laura's own size. It couldn't possibly be an administrator.

"You have an obligation here, Mircalla. If you cannot fulfill the simple duties required of you, I'll see that you're left out on the side of an empty road for those disgusting cash-hauling brutes-"

Laura had stumbled on the edge of a finely-sewn carpet in an attempt to get closer to the office. She froze, staring wide eyed into the open office. In an instant, the Dean's eyes seemingly found Laura's terrified pair through the darkness. Laura clamped her tiny hand over her own mouth to keep from screaming out in the night. Her entire body was screaming bloody murder at her to move and move quickly, but she was frozen. Another pair of eyes strained through the darkness; they were deeply chocolate and glowed beautifully with the faintest traces of light that caught on them. Laura's hurried heartbeat nearly came to an immediate standstill.

In an instant, the Dean strode forward, and Laura thought she was done for.

But the Dean did not pass the heavy, black double doors of her office, but slammed them shut; a deadlock could be heard from the other side of the doors.

Laura bolted up the stairs.

She didn't dare take another breath until she had shut her boarding room door and threw herself under the covers of her soft bed. Never before had she felt so little control over her own body. She laid panting, perfectly still, and could faintly register Betty's loud snoring coming from the other side of the room.

Go to sleep. She told herself. Just go to sleep.

But her eyes remained pinned open, blown pupils glued to the ceiling.

After she's managed to fully calm herself, she checked the grandfather clock to the side Betty's bed. It read 2 a.m.

She released a choked sob despite her best efforts. And on that night, Laura cried.

A/N: I understand that this is not going to be a fanfiction that will appeal to everyone, (then again, a story that appeals to absolutely everyone is nonexistent) so I do want to know if you all would actually want me to continue. And so, I request that this fic receives at least 5 Kudos so that I know that I am not just cluttering up this site more than need be. Thank you for understanding, loves. -BabyDoll

Discrepancies/Notes:

-Laura and her father do not necessarily speak in a British accent, despite hailing from the empire. Just as on Carmilla, although the characters are in Austria, they don't necessarily speak German.

-My own personal Canon is that Laura came out to her father in her early teenage years. But for this story, it needed to be done rather early on.

-Now, WW1 was said to have begun in 1914, but for the story's sake, the British Empire was called to arms in 1904.

-I cannot stress this enough, this fic will contain HIGHLY TRIGGERING MATERIAL (death, suicide, child abuse, descriptive depictions of injury, animal abuse, mental disorders in adolescents, ect.). And although it will be mentioned beforehand, I do not recommend easily triggered individuals to proceed. To all others, please enjoy.