Flashback: 47th of Summer, 504
"The nerve! The nerve!" Orabelle screamed as she stumbled around, carrying a bag, she had to fall almost three times today. But it wasn't because of the bag. She was breaking in a new pair of boots, and a long heavy dress her mother insisted she should wear. The silky crimson red dress wasn't only heavy and long, there was a nice corset part that would help shape out her body. Her slinky body did look nice, she had to admit... but she couldn't breath! She honestly thought there was no point in wearing it.
"Brianne!" Orabelle bellowed. She was calling her hard-headed sister. The two only knew each other for a short period and already the two were bumping heads. It seemed to always be a contest, and today's was who could get home first. The svefran girl stumbled up and down west street, but couldn't remember where her home was. Was it the large stone house or the tall gawky house? Was this even her street! Orabelle couldn't possibly remember.
The heat was bad, her neat bun was beginning to poof and the makeup her mother tried to put on her was sweating off. Orabelle decided to wipe it off anyway with the crimson dress. The scars of sailing were seen on her forehead and cheek. Bad scars, scars she should've been embarrassed of. At this point she wasn't though."Bri... you, you win." She began getting dizzy.
Orabelle was scowled at as she slid down on the ground by a shop window. The heat was getting to her and the corset was becoming tighter. Large gasps of breaths turned into short ones."Bri, you win, just help me!" She tried to reach the back of her dress to loosen the laces, but her arms could only move forward. She began to hate West Street and her sister. She was nothing but a witch, a cunning one who only wanted to see her suffer."You hateful bitch..." They were her last words before she closed her eyes.
"The nerve! The nerve!" Orabelle screamed as she stumbled around, carrying a bag, she had to fall almost three times today. But it wasn't because of the bag. She was breaking in a new pair of boots, and a long heavy dress her mother insisted she should wear. The silky crimson red dress wasn't only heavy and long, there was a nice corset part that would help shape out her body. Her slinky body did look nice, she had to admit... but she couldn't breath! She honestly thought there was no point in wearing it.
"Brianne!" Orabelle bellowed. She was calling her hard-headed sister. The two only knew each other for a short period and already the two were bumping heads. It seemed to always be a contest, and today's was who could get home first. The svefran girl stumbled up and down west street, but couldn't remember where her home was. Was it the large stone house or the tall gawky house? Was this even her street! Orabelle couldn't possibly remember.
The heat was bad, her neat bun was beginning to poof and the makeup her mother tried to put on her was sweating off. Orabelle decided to wipe it off anyway with the crimson dress. The scars of sailing were seen on her forehead and cheek. Bad scars, scars she should've been embarrassed of. At this point she wasn't though."Bri... you, you win." She began getting dizzy.
Orabelle was scowled at as she slid down on the ground by a shop window. The heat was getting to her and the corset was becoming tighter. Large gasps of breaths turned into short ones."Bri, you win, just help me!" She tried to reach the back of her dress to loosen the laces, but her arms could only move forward. She began to hate West Street and her sister. She was nothing but a witch, a cunning one who only wanted to see her suffer."You hateful bitch..." They were her last words before she closed her eyes.