Post by Adriia on Dec 16, 2008 17:28:26 GMT -8
Somebody take my hand… lead me… I just wish I could stop it… I try to appear like I’ve got it together… I’m falling apart… I just need to breathe…somebody please.
I turned the brass knob tightly; the water stopped running, took off my corset and took in a deep breath. Stepping into the tub, I tied my hair up and lied down; the warm water soothed my aching body. There I lie, restless, a body void of movement, and emptiness inside my soul. In my hands, a forgotten hair pin; it belonged to my mother. It was the only possession that remained, other than my memories. I brushed my fingers across the hairpin, twirling it in between my fingertips. Flashbacks surged through my mind; standing by the front door, waiting for her to get back. My hair fastened back with a daisy hairpin, a beautiful white mithril gown, patiently waiting for my mother’s arrival. That’s when I met him.
Sometimes I wonder… the emptiness inside that made me miss my life… in the silence and darkness… leaving my dreams behind, my childhood fantasies unwind.
Sitting in front of the mirror, I looked at myself, saw that my eyes were glazed over, the glisten that was once there no longer lingered. Dazed, I remembered the roads I took to get to where I am now. It was a difficult path, one I never chose but was chosen for me. The banging on the door snapped me out of my trance, he had arrived. I looked once more into the mirror, fixed my hair and removed my robe. I stood there looking at myself, dissatisfied with what I saw, yet I looked beautiful. My white hair fell, pin straight, over my delicate shoulders, the lace from my majestic robes gripping onto every curve of my body, and my blood red boots that stood out against my skin. I smiled as I opened the door; he walked in and threw his coat over the chair. Immediately he grabbed me, applying pressure at my waist with his rough hands. The smell of alcohol was pungent; his lips were jagged against mine, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. Slowly he undressed me; after all, I was merely providing a service, a service for which I did not have any control over. I was not my own but rather someone’s to own. The night fades away and he leaves just as quickly as he arrived.
I need this to hurt… burn it into my mind… help me keep these frail walls from crashing down… this moment helps me let go… this will be the last time.
I prayed to Shilen before, but this time was different. This time she was going to give me what I wanted, my freedom in exchange for my servitude. This servitude was different; this was servitude to a Goddess, my devotion and loyalty, not to a man without my consent. Awakened by the sound of someone at my door, I put my robe on and answered the knocking. He walked right in, this was his place, and he not only owned me but all of that which was “mine”. He placed a small cloth bag of adena on my armoire. This was my payment, my payment for last night. No longer did I wonder what became of the man that left me the night before because this was the man I saw the next morning. He took me from my mother, took me from my home, and stripped me of my childhood, the tormentor of my dreams. I was but a mere object for him to put on the market, feeding me to the hungry, feeding their addiction, their addiction for pleasure, satisfaction and fulfillment. It was a way to make a living, through me. On this night the Goddess Shilen gave me the strength to finally put an end to it. The very thing he made me become was going to be the very thing that ended his existence. As I had seduced so many men before him, I began to weave my web, the one which would so surely catch him. He lied in my bed, nude and vulnerable and yet the look in his eyes made me tremble with the very fear of what he was capable of. I gently placed my lips upon his, brushing the side of his cheek with my hand, dagger in the other. As quickly as he stripped me of my childhood I stripped him of his very breath. The dagger effortlessly slid across his neck, his very dark eyes widening with astonishment for his possession no longer was to be possessed by the likes of him.
I am no longer dieing on the inside… I will no longer let you define me… I will no longer be made to hide… tears will no longer fall… I will not be ashamed of my name, of my existence.
Every time I cast a spell I felt a surge of power course through my veins, the very essence of the Goddess of the underworld, Shilen. It had been over a hundred years now that I devoted myself to the followings of Shilen. Over a hundred years that I became free of my very existence, my self being. No longer tied to anyone but the Goddess herself I continued my journey, ever so wary of those I met along the way. I was no longer a lady of the night, nor a mere dark elf, but now a Shilen Elder, capable of things that as a child I would never have dreamed of. This is my story and it has only just begun.
(will be continued...)
I turned the brass knob tightly; the water stopped running, took off my corset and took in a deep breath. Stepping into the tub, I tied my hair up and lied down; the warm water soothed my aching body. There I lie, restless, a body void of movement, and emptiness inside my soul. In my hands, a forgotten hair pin; it belonged to my mother. It was the only possession that remained, other than my memories. I brushed my fingers across the hairpin, twirling it in between my fingertips. Flashbacks surged through my mind; standing by the front door, waiting for her to get back. My hair fastened back with a daisy hairpin, a beautiful white mithril gown, patiently waiting for my mother’s arrival. That’s when I met him.
Sometimes I wonder… the emptiness inside that made me miss my life… in the silence and darkness… leaving my dreams behind, my childhood fantasies unwind.
Sitting in front of the mirror, I looked at myself, saw that my eyes were glazed over, the glisten that was once there no longer lingered. Dazed, I remembered the roads I took to get to where I am now. It was a difficult path, one I never chose but was chosen for me. The banging on the door snapped me out of my trance, he had arrived. I looked once more into the mirror, fixed my hair and removed my robe. I stood there looking at myself, dissatisfied with what I saw, yet I looked beautiful. My white hair fell, pin straight, over my delicate shoulders, the lace from my majestic robes gripping onto every curve of my body, and my blood red boots that stood out against my skin. I smiled as I opened the door; he walked in and threw his coat over the chair. Immediately he grabbed me, applying pressure at my waist with his rough hands. The smell of alcohol was pungent; his lips were jagged against mine, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. Slowly he undressed me; after all, I was merely providing a service, a service for which I did not have any control over. I was not my own but rather someone’s to own. The night fades away and he leaves just as quickly as he arrived.
I need this to hurt… burn it into my mind… help me keep these frail walls from crashing down… this moment helps me let go… this will be the last time.
I prayed to Shilen before, but this time was different. This time she was going to give me what I wanted, my freedom in exchange for my servitude. This servitude was different; this was servitude to a Goddess, my devotion and loyalty, not to a man without my consent. Awakened by the sound of someone at my door, I put my robe on and answered the knocking. He walked right in, this was his place, and he not only owned me but all of that which was “mine”. He placed a small cloth bag of adena on my armoire. This was my payment, my payment for last night. No longer did I wonder what became of the man that left me the night before because this was the man I saw the next morning. He took me from my mother, took me from my home, and stripped me of my childhood, the tormentor of my dreams. I was but a mere object for him to put on the market, feeding me to the hungry, feeding their addiction, their addiction for pleasure, satisfaction and fulfillment. It was a way to make a living, through me. On this night the Goddess Shilen gave me the strength to finally put an end to it. The very thing he made me become was going to be the very thing that ended his existence. As I had seduced so many men before him, I began to weave my web, the one which would so surely catch him. He lied in my bed, nude and vulnerable and yet the look in his eyes made me tremble with the very fear of what he was capable of. I gently placed my lips upon his, brushing the side of his cheek with my hand, dagger in the other. As quickly as he stripped me of my childhood I stripped him of his very breath. The dagger effortlessly slid across his neck, his very dark eyes widening with astonishment for his possession no longer was to be possessed by the likes of him.
I am no longer dieing on the inside… I will no longer let you define me… I will no longer be made to hide… tears will no longer fall… I will not be ashamed of my name, of my existence.
Every time I cast a spell I felt a surge of power course through my veins, the very essence of the Goddess of the underworld, Shilen. It had been over a hundred years now that I devoted myself to the followings of Shilen. Over a hundred years that I became free of my very existence, my self being. No longer tied to anyone but the Goddess herself I continued my journey, ever so wary of those I met along the way. I was no longer a lady of the night, nor a mere dark elf, but now a Shilen Elder, capable of things that as a child I would never have dreamed of. This is my story and it has only just begun.
(will be continued...)
