In a Dark Moon 1

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I sit looking out the window of my families large estate wondering, not for the first time, what it would be like to be someone different. I wished I could go back to before.

To the before when my thoughts weren't invaded by foreign ideas of the darkness and nightfall. To the before when I didn't have to look behind my back at every turn. To the before when the night time did not give me nightmares. To the before when I had not met him.

I stop. The mere mention of him makes my heart race however not for the reasons one may think. A shiver tumbles through my body as I remember the day I met him, here in this very house. I had knew there was something wrong when he took my hand and kissed the back of it as he bowed. I felt a slight discomfort, as if something sharp had pierced my hand. When he let go of my hand, I looked down and saw two beads of blood that had dotted my hand. I had looked up into his face with confusion and all I saw there were his dark, luminescent eyes filled with a deep emotion I did not understand, although it had looked almost feral. He gave me a smile, one that was supposed to be charming, I thought. However as I assessed his face, I realized there was something off about his smile. His teeth, they had been almost too sharp to be human. I had looked back up into his eyes and found them staring down at me, I rememb-- I am pulled out of my reminisce by a rustling noise behind me. I turn around and see
Him.

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One Year Before

"Miss. Helena, wake up. It is ten'o clock, not a time to be caught sleeping, especially by your Lady mother."

I open my eyes and see my maid, Edith, walking quickly across the room to open the window curtains. I sit up and stretch as I yawn very loudly.

"Miss. Helena, you should have been up a half an hour ago. You have an appointment today with the dress maker. You know that!" chirped Edith as she finished with the curtains and picked up a breakfast tray laden with a cup of tea, and various fruits.

I got out of bed and walked across the room to my porcelein washbasin. I pick up the gleaming water pitcher and pour some water into the bowl. I reach down and splash water onto my face, smelling the faint aroma of roses in the water. I drop my hands and grab for the towel, also scented with roses, to dry my face. When I am finished, I turn back around and look for Edith and spot her readying my clothing for the day. I walk over to my huge vanity and sit down on the cushion of the seat before it. A moment later, I feel her bustle up behind me and grab my silver brush which is encrusted with pearls and diamonds in the shape of flowers and vines on it. She takes my hair and gently starts brushing through it, my slightly disheveled hair becoming radiant once more. As I relax to the subtle tugging of my maids hands through my hair, I look into the mirror and study myself.

I see the same straight, pert nose that my mother possesses along with the same plump, puckered lips the color of freshly picked petunias. My eyes trail up my face and see my slightly curved eyebrows the color of deep chocolate which contrast a fair amount with my golden, almost platinum hair, that cascades down my back in a mix of soft waves and ringlets. My eyes travel over my high, rosy cheekbones and up to my eyes. My aqua orbs with flecks of gold and even some slivers of amber peer back at me. They are surrounded by dark, full lashes that curl upwards toward the ceiling. All of this is contained in a nicely curved, round face. As I look at my face, I feel a sharp tug at the back of my head. I flash my eyes upwards towards Edith's round, plump face and see that she too, is staring at my reflection. Her eyes go wide with shame and she looks back down at the task at hand.

"I am very sorry Miss. I did not mean to pull your hair," she says quietly, with her face still cast downward.

"It is fine, Edith. You did not mean to." I say back lightly. She continues to brush my hair and I look at her reflection in the mirror as well. She was a pretty girl, with chestnut, almost copper, hair that shined in the sunlight that streamed through the windows. Her face was dusted with faint freckles and her eyes shined a deep moss, green. She had a very shy nature when I had first gotten her as a ladies maid but over the years that I had had her, she had turned out to be a very outgoing and charismatic person. She was a year younger than I, a mere fifteen, but she held herself as a distinguished woman already. I sighed deeply and closed my eyes as she dressed her hair.

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