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Pen Your Pride

Her Story Bites. 1

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I’m Luna Nocturna, and one day I just sat and watched the slow steady beat of the gold pendulum of the great grandfather clock in the parlor. My eyes moving back and forth with a slow careful precision, not actually seeing anything. My hand flew out to my right to grab my cat that was lazily sprawled over the back of the chair. He gave a soft cry and I softened my grip. Feltix was its name. I had received it as a present from my betrothed. A man I had never met. I had refused every man that had asked for my hand. Until my mother chose for me. My large skirts rustled behind me as I get up. The dark corset tightening on my stomach. I set the cat down carefully, and began to walk down the hall, my large dark skirts trailing behind me. My mother, Nocte, had said that such dark colors did not befit a young lady of 16. I only grumbled in protest.  My smallest sister, Albin, came skipping down the hall. I can almost feel the happiness radiating from her.  I’m not the nicest of my mothers three daughters. In the judgmental eyes of the people of my kingdom I was the evilest and quietest of all of us. The youngest sister, Albin, is a year younger than me. Her straight, black, sharply angled, and short hair makes her seem fair in complexion. Her almond shape eyes have a hint of gold in the brown. Her cheeks glow like the morning sun has just hit them. Her personality is just like her cheeks, sun touched. She always greets people with affection, and loves animals. The dresses she chooses to wear make her hair glow soft. When she smiles it lights up a room. She stands at a height of 5’5 Ludis, the middle child, is tall standing at an amazing 5’9. Her soft brown hair waves down around her shoulders. Her eyes are wide, and a large rich gold color. She is incredibly athletic, and is well liked by the people of our kingdom. Her skin is a healthy looking tan, and she travels to deserts a lot. When she comes home she never really wears dresses. She always wears weathered brown pants that desert people wear, and wears long sleeved tops that gypsies wear.  Then there’s me. I stand at a height of 5’. With white hair that’s curls down to my ankles. My face is sharp and angular, and my eyes are turquoise with a hint of grey. My skin is ivory, and I have faint grey patterns running all over my body. People say I’m gifted by the moon, but I think I’m cursed. I am shy, and hardly ever speak many words. The dark crescent moon on my forehead, and the tattoos all over my body, signify that the moon gave me life. My mother told me once that when I was born I was on the verge of death, but they prayed to the moon, and I was able to live. Oh, and one thing you must know about me is that my sight comes and goes. It hasn’t always been that way. About two months ago I had fallen down a flight of steps slick with rain. When I had awoken everything was dark. The closed curtains in my room have no light coming through them. I cant feel the warmth of the sun. I take off my half inch heels, and walk carefully across the floor. My heels pad silently against the pale tiles, and my feet become cold. I peel back one of the curtains and stare at the afternoon sun, seeing nothing but feeling the warmth on my face. The walls of my room are painted a dark purple, and expensive rugs run along my floor. I walk slowly to my dresser and feel around till I find a black, silk, long sleeved nightgown. I undo my corset and my dress drops to the floor. I give a sigh of relief. I pull the nightgown over my head. The silk feels like water running along my skin. I run to my big bed pilled high with a mound of covers and pillows. Running into the bed frame as I come close. Almost as soon as my head hit’s the pillow I’m asleep.  

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