United States

17 | INFJ | she/her

[ summer + fall 2019 ] peer ambassador

lover of magical realism, bedroom pop, digital illustration, & honey almond butter

Message from Writer

if you see a piece get unpublished, it's probably because I've submitted it to a lit mag, contest, etc! also, i'm not rly active on here anymore :)


December 26, 2019

The house is old yet majestic, ivy climbing along the outside walls as if the vines themselves are guarding the secrets within. Trees encircle the de Cygne's ancestral home, their branches thin and spindly. At night, they stand as silhouettes against the star-stitched sky, their limbs outstretched, reaching, reaching, reaching. From above, the moon looks down upon her realm, her soft silver light a gentle smile that skims past the rows of roofs, resting on a secluded structure.

In the house, there live seven sisters, seven girls infamous for the swan-like grace whispering beneath their skin. Every night, they come awake after the witching hour, when all is still and silent. Then and only then, they march to the lake, trudging through winter snow and summer heat, blissfully unaware of the trees curved with desperation around them. But that same longing lives among them, nestled like a heartache in the middle sister's chest. As her sisters descend the slope leading to the crystalline waters of the lake, the girl blinks her mind away, dreaming of freedom, of throwing her swan-feathered cloak away and never looking back. One day, she promises, she will, unfettered as the clasp of her cloak comes undone and the moonlit magic ebbs from her body. Then and only then, will she truly be free.


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