It all started with a hug. A hug caused by the cold weather. We went on a long journey together. Hiding, running, and sharing the fear of every moment that passed by. The fear that we would get caught. Well, we do. The tortures, the beatings, and the whippings, all the hurting words they gave us. But, after a while. Just to be near the air he's in or near, was all that was needed to heal me. Just his touch on my skin, a huge smile would appear. And near the end. When there were no more tortures, there was no more him, to help me breath this life. This story wont be like so many of Leonardo Da Vinci's paintings; so many unfinished. And it will definitely not be like any of Shakespeare's stories; all tragic. I will not let it. And I know he wont either.


4. 4

Victoria ran downstairs to the huge kitchen, where no one except the maids really walked in, as quietly as possible. She found a damp ripped-out brown cloth and others alike. She gathered them and put them on the sink, splashing gashes of bleach there and there, which she found form the cabinet under the sink. The maids all looked to one another; clueless of what she was doing and what they should do. Then, she went out into the field and found some dirt. She digged a small hole with her hands under the grass then, grabbed some soil and rubbed it inside the huge cloths. Then, she opened the cloths each at a time and the leftover mud that had not rubbed inside the cloths fell down. The whole time she was smiling to her brilliantness. She ran to her room and hid the dirty trashes under her cleaned and new sheeted bed and, went to the room downstairs where women usually gathered for noon-time tea. Not, today. There was brownish red dresser in the room, with a 2 feet mirror above it. She opened the first drawer and took out the little pink bag that had all sorts of needles and threads. She sprinted back to her room hiding the pink behind her; for seeing the King. And each pass a "Hiey hiey." Or a bow. Victoria laughed as soon as the sight of the King had disappeared. 

Once in her room, she sat by her bed, her back resting on the right side of her bed frame and facing the closed door. She set down to work. Inserting a yellow thread into the extra-big needle's whole. Just sewing randomly all the pieces of cloth together. An hour passed until she was done. Just cutting and measuring were left for her outfit. She got undressed and had some trouble untying her corset. A white night gown was all she wore. The 'dress' looked very much like a plus-plus size ruffle tube while she put it on under her feet and up to her chest. She folded the long piece in front of her and found some king of belt looking brown string, and tied it around her waist. Now, it was perfect. The smell was truly terrible but, she avoided putting on perfume. The dress looked like a mix of old and dirty brown, white and yellow colors. Her simplest shoe was this white flat she hasn't wore in ages. She put it on.

And at last was her hair and face. She opened her hair form it's round French-braid. She took her comb and brushed a string by string of her hair, up and down, until it was puffy-looking. Perfect. Makeup; you will never imagine. Black and on top of it brown lipstick. She outlined it with red lip-liner. In coming to her eyes, she sighted and just spilled all the liquid eyeliner on her face and smoothed it through out her face with her hands, due to frustration. I can promise you she wasn't thinking while doing this. Her face was black, or covered in black. Victoria stood up form her white dresser with it's bright mirror. As she turned around--


"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Someone screamed.

Victoria smiled. It was about five o'clock and her mother stood in front of her like she could die any second of seeing a pig in her daughter's room.

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