][Malice][ =One Piece=

:: Chapter Seventeen ::

Why was she nervous? She’d thought she’d hardened herself to these kinds of emotions. Hadn’t she been through enough, hadn’t she survived enough to suppress these kinds of feelings. The prepubescent twelve year old raven haired beauty sat in a balcony seat off to herself looking down at a brilliantly lit stage below with a thick obsidian curtain with scrawling white script across the front that read, ‘The Black Dahlia’. It’s what the academy called their raven haired star, naming her after a beautiful blooming flower.

Her heart began to race as the curtain was raised. The crowd went wild as a breathtaking woman with perfectly bronzed skin and endless waves of obsidian hair tumbling around her voluptuous body made her way to center stage. She had eyes the color of golden amber with faint speckles of sapphire dancing around the pupils. Malice stared in awe at the beauty before her. Could this really be the cruel mother who abandoned her? It was hard to believe with her beautiful shining smile. She looked so sweet and demure, not at all how Izra had depicted her.

Perhaps Izra had been mistaken; perhaps it was just a small case of post partum depression. What if her mother really wanted her? What if she truly regretted abandoning her? Would she rejoice if she knew Malice was alive? The young girl felt oddly hopeful. She didn’t understand the mess of emotions running amok within her. She’d come here with the sole purpose to get even with the cruel mother who’d abandoned her, but now after seeing her, she felt a strange impulse. No longer did she care for revenge, all she wanted was to be loved, to be wanted, to feel a mother’s loving embrace.

The raven haired dancer was beyond amazing. Her movements were fluid and graceful and had everyone in the audience completely captivated. After the show the auditorium exploded with deafening applause and cheers of young sailors declaring their love to The Black Dahlia. Malice watched her mother as she accepted roses with a gracious smile and offered sweet laughter to her adoring fans. This couldn’t possibly be the same cruel woman Izra had described. She seemed so genuine and sincere.

Silent as death itself the young girl flitted backstage, weaving in and out of the crowds of VIP fans and stage crew without the slightest bit of detection. She paused outside of a dressing room marked ‘The Black Dahlia’ and listened at the door.

“Lady Astrid, we’re scheduled for a meet and greet with a local orphanage tomorrow morning, I implore you to get some res-.”

‘SLAP’

Malice nearly jumped at the sudden sound. She moved so she could see through a crack in the door and caught the reflection of two people through the mirror. The woman now reflected in the mirror was nothing like the stunning flawless pure creature that had so beautifully danced across the stage moments before. Her makeup was smeared; her gold eyes held no light any longer and were now dulled and worn. The flawless bronzed skin now looked weathered and old, but it was more than just her aged appearance. Something in her golden gaze startled the young girl, instead of the light and purity they had held within, she saw spite and greed.

The young man standing before the woman was now holding his cheek where a perfect handprint had appeared. Why would she slap the man?

“What on earth makes you think I’d want to go to an orphanage with a bunch of sniveling brats?” The woman hissed angrily.

Malice perked up slightly, mistaking the woman’s scorn for misplaced regret. Perhaps she didn’t want to be reminded of the child she cast away.

“It’s just a publicity stunt, my lady, we’ll only have to be there to take a few shots for the press and we can leave.”

“Little burdens, if their parents didn’t want them, they should have just let them die.” She scoffed as she turned to her vanity and attempted to cover her weathered skin with some fine shimmering powder.