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Aspiring actress, bisexual kid fighting mental illness, equal rights advocate, I just wanna do the right thing, y'know?

Message from Writer

Hey everyone, first let me just say thanks for reading my writing! If you'd like to leave me some feedback it is much appreciated, however please do not leave comments like "you spelled this wrong" or "you're missing a comma here". I would rather be criticized on the content rather than the grammar.

Puppet Turned Master

June 23, 2015



I wanted to scream, to let this monsoon of emotions flood out of the fragile bottle in which they were imprisoned. I longed to be two again so I could throw a fit and get away with it. But now that I was older I was expected to be a lady. After all, who would want to marry a rambunctious woman? 

I drove the needle through the fabric, somehow managing not to puncture one of my fingers in the process.  A flower began to take shape along the bottom of the shift I was forced to alter. If Mother were here she would purse her lips and scold me for going so slow. But for now I was alone with nothing but my thoughts and a cup of tea that had cooled long ago. I put the garment on the chair and approached the only window in the room. A few rays of light penetrated the glass as the sun sank behind the trees. Soon the moon would rise and darkness would shroud the land until morning. The creak of the door prompted me to turn. A middle-aged maid stood in the hall, her shadow stretched on the floor before her.

"Your majesty," she said, choking on her words. "The queen is dead."



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