The door opened quickly. “Tabitha, wake up!” Samuel shouted, lighting a candle near her mirror. His eyes were wild and bloodshot... he had picked up a knife somewhere along the way. “Tabitha, if you don’t wake up this instant...”
She opened her eyes—since her birth, they had acquired a lovely autumn-leaf color—and sat up. Her hair was pinned into an elegant little bun; she was dressed in a flowing pure-white nightgown that reached to the tips of her fingers, and when standing, hid her feet. “Grandmother, is that you?” she asked, her eyes not used to the dark.
“Damn you girl, I’m not your bloody grandmother!” he shouted, wobbling slightly as he walked nearer to her, the knife held in front of him. “You’re nothing but a lousy, no-good daughter of a—“
“Why do you have a knife?” she asked, shuddering. “You’re not going to...”
“I will. I’m going to do what I should have done four years ago!” Samuel bellowed, and swiped at Tabitha. It hit a couple inches below its target; her left cheek was grazed, blood falling on her nightgown.
She screamed from fear and before her grandfather could stop her, she busted the window and freed herself.
Now she was running through town—a place she’d never even seen before... ~This is not good,~ she thought, nestling herself between a couple of garbage cans behind the old alehouse. ~Not good at all...~ At last she found herself able to sleep, though nightmares filled her head.
 Madame Tequila-chan · Wed Jan 03, 2007 @ 03:42pm · 2 Comments |
