Blood Lily

11. Dawn



The light of dawn graced down upon a flower of pure white.

I could see it, how each petal of this flower fluttered and swayed as the wind gently caressed it. I could see how small and delicate it was, and how it begged to be nurtured. How it called out to me.

I stepped forward, each of my steps landing in warm grass.

Standing before it, I began to reach down until I felt a spike of pain wrap around me from the back of my neck, choking the life out of me.

Chains wrapped around my wrists and ankles, jerking me backwards and away from the flower of pure white as it shrunk into the distance and the sun fell below the horizon, its strands of light fading away...

I struggled and reached out for the flower to no avail, until I heard a sudden sound.

Ker-chunk

My eyes shot open and my breaths were quick and sharp as the panic pumped through my veins.

I sat up, glancing around my room, taking in all the different hues of pink.

"Just another nightmare..." I whispered to myself, releasing a sigh of relief.

I flopped my head back onto my pillow and hugged it, trying to fall back asleep.

But then, the panic returned and I sat back up, giving my room a disbelieving lookover.

Right, this is my room. I was adopted into the Great House of O'Sang. As a vampire.

I looked down at my pajama covered body.

And as a girl, somehow.

I rested my head back down on the comfy pillow, nuzzling it with my face.

I wonder if I'll be able to wake up one day in peace soon. Nightmares like these were a fairly common occurrence to me, though they usually start as horribly as they end. This one was different. It started out so nicely. I'd love to feel the warmth of the grass, the calming light of a new day, and especially the beautiful image of that flower again.

I peaked my eyes open slightly.

But I don't want to return to that inescapable sense of panic and dread.

So, I sat back up, this time for good, and scooted to the edge of the bed.

Taking in the dream-like rays pouring in through the window, I could tell this dawn was real, at least. I also noticed that I didn't feel restless like I did the previous morning.

Before I stood up, though, I noticed a white box with a red ribbon on the carpet near the door.

With a great abundance of curiosity and only slight hesitation, I crept towards it and picked it up, feeling a bit of weight to it.

I placed it on my bed and stared at it. What could be in it?

It was then that I noticed there was a small note attached to the side. As I failed to understand what was written, it startled me by speaking in an unfamiliar and muffled voice. It said:

An appropriately sized outfit. Enjoy.

Oh! Millie took my measurements, so this was probably proper clothing, not a towel or pajamas.

I pulled on the ribbon, undoing the neat bindings that were sealing the lid of the box.

With eager filled hands, I lifted the top off and peaked inside.

It was folded evenly, so I couldn't quite tell what it was, but I could see that it was black and white.

Grabbing a hold of it, I could feel how luxuriously silky it felt. It was cool to the touch as well.

I excitedly lifted it up, holding it out in front of me and...

I realized it was a dress.

I just kept staring at it. It felt nice to the touch, and it looked really pretty. Actually, it kind of looked similar to the dress Magnolia had on, just a bit smaller to fit me. It seemed a bit frillier too?

But... I thought she made it very clear I was to be treated as the new son of the household. I mean, I get that this definitely seems like it would fit my body, probably really perfectly, but I expected something a bit more neutral, at the least.

The note said to enjoy it, but can I even enjoy something like this?

I gave it a good look and tried to memorize its appearance. It was sleeveless unlike Magnolia's long sleeved dress, and the lightly frilled skirt seemed around knee-length. It was primarily black with white as a secondary color. It also had a cute bow just below the neckline, another difference to Magnolia's dress. It seemed less like Magnolia's the more I looked at it, actually, but still vaguely familiar.

I held it against me and tried to imagine what it would feel like if I put it on...

The way it would compliment my long, silver hair, the way I'd play with the bow, the way the silky fabric would feel against my soft skin, the way the skirt would flutter as the flower did in my dream...

I felt my heart beat a bit faster. W-were clothes supposed to have this magical power to them?

With an uncertain grin on my face and the dress still held against the front of me, I went towards the mirror to see how it would look for real, without having to put it on yet, of course.

But the moment I stood in front of the mirror, any excitement or hope I had within me was extinguished within an instant.

I saw him.

Holding the same dress as me, he stood there, staring with that all too familiar lifeless expression.

He had black and unkempt hair. His eyes were hollow and a dark brown. He had stubble that had yet to grow into a beard.

But his face... his face was all too similar to my father. To the person that was supposed to care for me and protect me. To the person that has never spoken a word to me in spite of me clearly being his own blood. The person that never looked me in the eyes.

But I've looked him in the eyes. I know his face. And it feels as if I'm staring at it this very moment...

At some point, I had let go of the dress, as it now lie on the carpet. I felt my hands curl into fists and my breathing speed up.

I hated him.

I felt a wildfire ignite in my stomach, boiling my blood as it pumped through my arms and legs.

I hated him.

I raised my fist, clenched tight enough to draw my own blood.

I hated him.

Then, he shattered.

"I hate you," I whispered to nothing. My face drained of anger as a melancholic frown took form.

I looked down at the fragments of the mirror. They were pitch black and none of them reflected any light. I guess it doesn't reflect anything at all when it's not whole.

I knelt down to pick the dress back up, realizing my hand was still balled into a fist. Some of the glass had cut me, and it was bleeding slightly. It was shaking too.

I didn't feel any pain, though, so I just picked it up with the other hand and threw the dress back in its box. I don't know what made me think it would ever look good on me, let alone enjoy it.

I didn't want to think about it ever again, so I put the top back on and kicked it under the bed, never to be seen again.

I looked back over at the ruins of the mirror for a moment before laying back in my bed.

I curled into a ball under the covers and hugged my pillow as tears started to form in my eyes.

Guilt started to wrack my heart as I realized I wasted a gift and destroyed the mirror...

My hand was starting to hurt now, too. I couldn't help but begin to sob and whimper as the pillow became wet.

I hated me.

Crying for who knows how long, I eventually stopped.

And eventually, I heard a sound.

Ker-chunk

"Good morning Lil' O'Sang," I heard Millie and Amber say in unison. "We brought you breakfa-" 

They rushed over to my bedside, each of them having something different to say.

"What's wrong, Lil?!" Millie said.

"What happened? Are you ok?!" Amber said.

"I'm sorry..." I muttered, showing them my tear stained face.

 

 

Hiya! Sorry for the chapter delay, I took a few extra days as I was adjusting to my college classes and some other healthy schedule changes. That aside, this chapter was indeed rather bleak for Lil' O'Sang, but fret not! What goes down must come up!


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