Origin StoryI walk out to the forest at the peak of midnight.Origin Story11 hours ago in Writing More Like This
It was dark.
I look around at the misty trees, smothered in smog and dew. Their trunks were isolated skeletons, corpses of past life.
I am alone.
I retreat behind an ancient, abandoned castle, past ruled by evil monarchs, each lead to a gory death by fate. Behind these crumbled walls, my pale, frosty hands finger my dirty blonde hair, and slowly, I undo my messy braids, lock by silky lock. I run my fingers through my hair, smoothing out the tangles and picking out the dainty ice-blue flowers embedded within. I flick my head, allowing my curls to settle on one side of my face like a golden horse tail. I was overwhelmed by a sense of freedom and bliss.
I climb the thousand-year-old stairs, slowly, one by one. My long, delicate white dress catches on my shimmering, diamond-studded slippers as I made my way up. Up and up and up and up and up I step. Closer, closer. I start to hurry.
This ritual must take place at twilight…