Post by Alaizabel on Aug 6, 2004 0:15:39 GMT
It was a dark evening, rather cold for summer. The curtains on Alaizabel's window shuddered as the wind hit the open window. The panels creak left to right quietly. Sage, Alaizabel's cat purred quietly in it's sleep in it's basket, curling up in warmth. Shadows creapt across the room towards Alaizabel's bed, as if they were people trying to seize her. The covers shifted a bit as Alaizabel moved from her spot. As the moonlight began to creep up towards her face, the distinct image of two green eyes lay open upon a crimson pillow.
She turned around, her face staring out the open window, as the curtains fluttered in the breeze. She watched it intently, for her eyes were far from closure. Why? Only she would know, or even the whole house would. The loud shouts echoed throughout the manor, coming from her father. As the loud crashes of glass came from down the hall. The howls of her mother added with her father's shouts, who he was shouting at, Alaizabel did not know.
A tear strolled down Alaizabel's face, creeping it's way slowly down her face, making sure she knew she had reached her point, she was crying. She dug her face into her cold pillow and held it there for a view minutes, letting tears streak her pillow. A few minutes later, she slowly began to get up from her bed, placing her feet on the peach carpet. She wiped a finger under each eye, t wipe away the tears. She cracked her fingers, and slowly walked out of the room.
She opened her door, gently, as to not make a creaking sound. And walked silently onto the wooden floor. She stopped on top of the staircase as she listened to her father shout, and a table falling onto the floor. Alaizabel guessed it, he was drunk. She shook her head, and walked down the hall, towards the sound of her whimpering mother. When she neared the sound, she saw that her mother was in the bathroom, her pills spilled across the floor. Although Alaizabel stood in the middle of the doorway, her mother did not seem to see her, or even care that Alaizabel had seen what she was doing.
On top of the tiles white floor, was her mother sitting agaisnt the sink pills layered around her, and tiny shards of glass lying near her bleeding hand. Alaizabel felt the tears stream faster. A year ago, her mother was released from St. Mungo's for her mental illness, but apparently, it still persisted. Her mother would spend every night like this, and the next morning she would not remember anything at all. Alaizabel sighed, as she walked towards her mother, her silk pink pajamas wrapping around her. She bent down and began brushing away the shards as she aided her mother. She lifted her off the floor. Her mother saying things like, 'Who the bloody hell are you, what do you want, gett 'roff me!". Alaizabel struggled as she washed her mother's bloody hand, and wrapped it. She then lead her towards the bedroom, laying her on the bed her placing her into a night of forgetful sleep.
Alaizabel sighed deeply as she watched her mother doze off. She turned away, and began walking down the hall, passing the bathroom, in which the mess still lay. She didn't bother calling Argon her house-elf, she knew he would get to it soon. She walked towards the grand stair case, and stopped midway down it. Just enough so she could get a clear view of the living room. She watched as her father took long sips from a bottle of whiskey, and yell things at random objects.
Alaizabel hugged the banister. She had lived these images every day of her life, and she never did have a true understanding of what was going on. She wasn't one to interpret these types of things. She held the banister, her face leaning against it, as tears of of confusion streamed down her cheeks.
She turned around, her face staring out the open window, as the curtains fluttered in the breeze. She watched it intently, for her eyes were far from closure. Why? Only she would know, or even the whole house would. The loud shouts echoed throughout the manor, coming from her father. As the loud crashes of glass came from down the hall. The howls of her mother added with her father's shouts, who he was shouting at, Alaizabel did not know.
A tear strolled down Alaizabel's face, creeping it's way slowly down her face, making sure she knew she had reached her point, she was crying. She dug her face into her cold pillow and held it there for a view minutes, letting tears streak her pillow. A few minutes later, she slowly began to get up from her bed, placing her feet on the peach carpet. She wiped a finger under each eye, t wipe away the tears. She cracked her fingers, and slowly walked out of the room.
She opened her door, gently, as to not make a creaking sound. And walked silently onto the wooden floor. She stopped on top of the staircase as she listened to her father shout, and a table falling onto the floor. Alaizabel guessed it, he was drunk. She shook her head, and walked down the hall, towards the sound of her whimpering mother. When she neared the sound, she saw that her mother was in the bathroom, her pills spilled across the floor. Although Alaizabel stood in the middle of the doorway, her mother did not seem to see her, or even care that Alaizabel had seen what she was doing.
On top of the tiles white floor, was her mother sitting agaisnt the sink pills layered around her, and tiny shards of glass lying near her bleeding hand. Alaizabel felt the tears stream faster. A year ago, her mother was released from St. Mungo's for her mental illness, but apparently, it still persisted. Her mother would spend every night like this, and the next morning she would not remember anything at all. Alaizabel sighed, as she walked towards her mother, her silk pink pajamas wrapping around her. She bent down and began brushing away the shards as she aided her mother. She lifted her off the floor. Her mother saying things like, 'Who the bloody hell are you, what do you want, gett 'roff me!". Alaizabel struggled as she washed her mother's bloody hand, and wrapped it. She then lead her towards the bedroom, laying her on the bed her placing her into a night of forgetful sleep.
Alaizabel sighed deeply as she watched her mother doze off. She turned away, and began walking down the hall, passing the bathroom, in which the mess still lay. She didn't bother calling Argon her house-elf, she knew he would get to it soon. She walked towards the grand stair case, and stopped midway down it. Just enough so she could get a clear view of the living room. She watched as her father took long sips from a bottle of whiskey, and yell things at random objects.
Alaizabel hugged the banister. She had lived these images every day of her life, and she never did have a true understanding of what was going on. She wasn't one to interpret these types of things. She held the banister, her face leaning against it, as tears of of confusion streamed down her cheeks.