His innocent vixen

From dream to reality

We were kissing. It was utter bliss. Loving, touching, caressing each other in every way possible. I gave him every part of me. Even parts I did not know I had to give.

But this was nothing but a dream. You know how I knew, because even in this unconscious state of mine; I knew that I had never and could never give myself to him fully. Not because I did not want to. But because I could not. Even though he was...used to be mine in my eyes and in his, he was not mine in the eyes of my mother and father and to all of society. My mother and father would have killed me, if I dared to ever lie with a man, I did not call husband. We were not married. And now... we never would be.

(Dream)

He lifted my face up with his soft, manly hands. Only to kiss me repeatedly, as he placed my back onto our handmade crochet blanket. Ours. Hm.

He released my hair from the tight grip of a Bobby pin as our lips moulded perfectly onto one another. Or so I thought. My chocolate like hair lay there sprawled to his advantage. He gazed into my eyes. Grinning at me with that unforgettable smile. I could not help but smile back. It was infectious. He leaned in and grazed our lips together, teasing the both of us. His eyes flickered down to my pink, swollen lips. He looks up into my brown orbs once more before he opens his mouth to say something. " I love y-."

Just like that I was rudely awaken from a dream, That I never wanted to be awakened from. I sighed as I got up from my cold, hardwood floor, and onto my Luscious bed. "Yes, you may enter." I utter quietly.

My mother enters the room. Violet dress first. I never understood why we had to wear such flamboyant clothing. But I guess that is just another thing I failed to comprehend. My mother sits on the edge of my bed, taking my heels off. " Dear. Dean Lawrence just left. He asked me to send his utmost apologies " she said in a careless tone as she tilted her head up with pride. I rolled my eyes.

She never liked Dean. She always said ' you need and can have someone much better' just as I think of the sentence she always remembers to repeat. She repeats them once again, the words booming from her body. "Mother could I possibly not be bothered by this recurring subject?" I ask, fully aware of the answer. " Absolutely not!" She yells as I mimic her.

"Come on it is teatime. Me and your father have something to discuss with you. Our beautiful angel" she smiles a mischievous smile, as she strokes my rosy, freckled cheek.

I stand up. Ready to face what I knew would be my final reckoning. I ought to think that I was going to soon go as mad as a mad hatter. But if being insane was the only way to be happy and tolerate all of this, in this world of rules and greed. I would happily be the Alice of this "wonderland".