Post by Pixie on Aug 25, 2017 21:19:36 GMT -5
So, I've been wanting to create a story for a while, but here's something I'd like for y'all to point out what I'm doing good at and what I'm doing bad at.
CHAPTER ONE
Flames burst into the black sky. The princess wept as she watched her home burn away into ruins. Her lungs sore and her legs bruised and cut. Her silk dress was a torn and a ragged mess. How did this happen? She remembered the devil’s gaze quite well. Why did it happen?
It happened all too fast for her to comprehend. Her father--the king--went to the ash kingdom only days ago to peacefully negotiate. Everyone knew that a war was coming and oh, how her great father went to stop it. Not so great now, the devil had said.
She turned away from the burning castle and ran with tears flooding down her freckled face. Her red hair turning into dancing flames as she ran.
Who was alive? Who was dead?
All she knew was that all her servants betrayed her. Instead of looking like the princess she was, she looked like a dirty rag.
Meanwhile, the devil, better known as James Stephen, sat on the throne. The girl’s servants looked fidgety; they were looking at each other nervously as the castle burned and it amused him. He wasn’t the devil, nor did he believe in such fables. Ha! He believed in getting power for the taking. He told the servants they wouldn’t die from the flames nor die from inhaling too much smoke. After all, the fire was controlled and soon the castle will become something greater. It will turn into something much more sturdy! He laughed at the servants. His bright, once soft eyes glistening with pleasure.
“Ruth!” he called upon the witch who always did the dirty work.
“Yes sir?”
“Stop the fire. You’re scaring the pets.”
“Of course, sir.”
He felt quite accomplished. He was able to kill the royal family and he had not only a pet witch, but now humans too were under his demand. He only had about a million pets which was a lot, he guessed, but he wanted more and soon enough, he’ll target other kingdoms. He felt the ginger princess, Irene, to be no threat to him. After all, she was as fragile as they come.
- - -
Irene did not remember when she fell asleep, but it was apparent when awoke and the sun was up.
Her heavy heart was slow in her chest and she could barely keep her eyes open. She wanted to go back to sleep, but she couldn’t for the pounding of her head hurt so much, it refused to let her daze. She was dizzy and wondered where she was.
Grief struck her as she slowly stood up and started walking to god knows where.
She shook her head hard despite the tumbling of her brain giving more pain. Tears started coming down her face again, but her mouth was dry and she felt it would do her no good if she died of dehydration.
What’s the point in living? Why shouldn’t I die? Her head mercilessly pulsed.
My father named me Irene. Irene means peace, but what good is peace now? She recalled her father’s loving gaze and how close she was to him, but not her mother, the queen who was always distant.
Irene coughed. Did she inhale too much smoke? Everything hurt. Despite what she thought only moments ago, Irene did not want to die.
Her vision was blurry and she wondered if she’d ever get better. Life at the moment was a living hell and she was so, so very confused. She knew she didn’t want to die, but she didn’t see the point in living. Why did the devil let her escape? Did he know?
Irene fell down onto her knees. I’ll just rest here. Maybe a prince will come eventually, that’s what they do, right? They rescue damsels in distress and she was nothing, if not in distress.
She sat there for what seemed like hours when it’s only been minutes. She looked at her ugly hands. She felt ugly everywhere. The devil had certainly made her ugly. He had beaten her not only emotionally, but physically and had done some unmentionable things to her. It surprised her when a surge of hate came bursting forward. Why did this happen to her? She was perfect! She would’ve been a great queen. She started imagining his dead, broken body and she felt that to be her motivation to move forward. She wanted the beast dead.
Irene, you’re a girl of heart. Don’t think dreadful things.
At hearing her father’s voice, the pain suddenly disappeared, but as soon as it went, it came back and she fell once more. She was a mess and what were messes good for? She wished to be daddy’s little girl again. It made her crumble at the fact that there was no one to guide her. The fact that life will never be the way it was. Will she ever be happy again? She cried and cried. She didn’t want to think about the future, or now for that matter. She wanted to think about the past. She thought about happy things. The servant who was twenty and how he made her belly flutter. No one could comprehend, not even her on how much she liked that boy! She recalled the smell of the castle for it always smelled like a mix of pine and hay.
She couldn’t hold herself back anymore. She tilted her head to the sky and screamed at the top of her already aching lungs. If there was a god, why would he ever let something like this happen?
CHAPTER ONE
Flames burst into the black sky. The princess wept as she watched her home burn away into ruins. Her lungs sore and her legs bruised and cut. Her silk dress was a torn and a ragged mess. How did this happen? She remembered the devil’s gaze quite well. Why did it happen?
It happened all too fast for her to comprehend. Her father--the king--went to the ash kingdom only days ago to peacefully negotiate. Everyone knew that a war was coming and oh, how her great father went to stop it. Not so great now, the devil had said.
She turned away from the burning castle and ran with tears flooding down her freckled face. Her red hair turning into dancing flames as she ran.
Who was alive? Who was dead?
All she knew was that all her servants betrayed her. Instead of looking like the princess she was, she looked like a dirty rag.
Meanwhile, the devil, better known as James Stephen, sat on the throne. The girl’s servants looked fidgety; they were looking at each other nervously as the castle burned and it amused him. He wasn’t the devil, nor did he believe in such fables. Ha! He believed in getting power for the taking. He told the servants they wouldn’t die from the flames nor die from inhaling too much smoke. After all, the fire was controlled and soon the castle will become something greater. It will turn into something much more sturdy! He laughed at the servants. His bright, once soft eyes glistening with pleasure.
“Ruth!” he called upon the witch who always did the dirty work.
“Yes sir?”
“Stop the fire. You’re scaring the pets.”
“Of course, sir.”
He felt quite accomplished. He was able to kill the royal family and he had not only a pet witch, but now humans too were under his demand. He only had about a million pets which was a lot, he guessed, but he wanted more and soon enough, he’ll target other kingdoms. He felt the ginger princess, Irene, to be no threat to him. After all, she was as fragile as they come.
- - -
Irene did not remember when she fell asleep, but it was apparent when awoke and the sun was up.
Her heavy heart was slow in her chest and she could barely keep her eyes open. She wanted to go back to sleep, but she couldn’t for the pounding of her head hurt so much, it refused to let her daze. She was dizzy and wondered where she was.
Grief struck her as she slowly stood up and started walking to god knows where.
She shook her head hard despite the tumbling of her brain giving more pain. Tears started coming down her face again, but her mouth was dry and she felt it would do her no good if she died of dehydration.
What’s the point in living? Why shouldn’t I die? Her head mercilessly pulsed.
My father named me Irene. Irene means peace, but what good is peace now? She recalled her father’s loving gaze and how close she was to him, but not her mother, the queen who was always distant.
Irene coughed. Did she inhale too much smoke? Everything hurt. Despite what she thought only moments ago, Irene did not want to die.
Her vision was blurry and she wondered if she’d ever get better. Life at the moment was a living hell and she was so, so very confused. She knew she didn’t want to die, but she didn’t see the point in living. Why did the devil let her escape? Did he know?
Irene fell down onto her knees. I’ll just rest here. Maybe a prince will come eventually, that’s what they do, right? They rescue damsels in distress and she was nothing, if not in distress.
She sat there for what seemed like hours when it’s only been minutes. She looked at her ugly hands. She felt ugly everywhere. The devil had certainly made her ugly. He had beaten her not only emotionally, but physically and had done some unmentionable things to her. It surprised her when a surge of hate came bursting forward. Why did this happen to her? She was perfect! She would’ve been a great queen. She started imagining his dead, broken body and she felt that to be her motivation to move forward. She wanted the beast dead.
Irene, you’re a girl of heart. Don’t think dreadful things.
At hearing her father’s voice, the pain suddenly disappeared, but as soon as it went, it came back and she fell once more. She was a mess and what were messes good for? She wished to be daddy’s little girl again. It made her crumble at the fact that there was no one to guide her. The fact that life will never be the way it was. Will she ever be happy again? She cried and cried. She didn’t want to think about the future, or now for that matter. She wanted to think about the past. She thought about happy things. The servant who was twenty and how he made her belly flutter. No one could comprehend, not even her on how much she liked that boy! She recalled the smell of the castle for it always smelled like a mix of pine and hay.
She couldn’t hold herself back anymore. She tilted her head to the sky and screamed at the top of her already aching lungs. If there was a god, why would he ever let something like this happen?
