Treemen and zombies and werewolves, oh my! These things may sound like fiction, but they are very real to those affected by certain rare diseases. Here are 10 of the most bizarre medical conditions out there:
there was a guy looking at the records we were selling at work today and he was wearing a total mall-goth outfit, chipped black nailpolish, tripp pants, long black hair, heavy dark eye makeup, etc
i greet him and chat w/ him like any other customer
and it turns out his favorite style of music is polka.
The first and only time I have ever done smut was the first full day of role-playing Owen. I was so kdfjxbgdjbgxdjg that I had my best friend write everything for me. I copied everything down into the thread like
As she looked up at the ceiling, she remembered her mother's warning.
Stay away from her.
It had been so clear, lacking any sort of pretense or hidden meaning. It was as much as warning as it was a command, and if her mother was serious enough about something to issue a command...
Her mother never gave commands. In fact, they were forbidden around the castle, and anyone caught tossing them about was sternly reprimanded. Considering the stories that often circulated around the castle about her mother's past, Princess Ellie couldn't blame her. But nevertheless, there was an indignant part of her that insisted that she was sixteen, and therefore able to do whatever she pleased. After all, in a year she would be of age to be offered to suitors--repugnant young men who would dote upon her and insist upon catering to her every whim--so why shouldn't she enjoy the easy rebellion she craved
Addictions were oh-so fascinating.
Princess Ellie turned her head to glance out the open window--the silent invitation for the devil to enter--and sighed. She wanted to get up and close it, ignore the parchment that felt like a ten-ton weight beneath her pillow, and go to sleep like a good girl. She almost wished for the days of innocence just as much as she wished for the sting of rebellion. She wondered briefly why her mother was so focused on her staying away from her. As much as she loved her mother, she often wondered what stories were true, and what stories were merely products of childhood rivalry. Whenever her mother spoke of her ill-fated stepsister, her face flushed with anger, and she went off on tangents that greatly betrayed her usual demeanor.
These moments greatly frightened the princess, but that wasn't enough to deter her from shaking hands with the devil.
She glanced at the window again, reading the words of the letter over and over in her head. It had seemed like a harmless invitation, and really she had gotten much stranger. Various Dukes and Knights had fervently requested the presence of the Princess, but she didn't take them. But this was different right? This was, as strange and silly as it sounded, her step-aunt, wanting to see her again after only briefly glancing her as a young child when her parents presented her to the world. There couldn't possibly be any harm in the visit, even if her mother would have forbid it.
Princess Ellie stood up, and walked over to the window, closing it tight.
Chapter 1
Ellie awoke to the chirping sounds of birds and the annoying sound of woodpeckers at her window. She rolled over, indignantly pulling her pillow over her head. Early mornings were the bane of her existence, as they would be spent listening to her governess drone on for hours on end about political history and mathematics and the proper use of syntax. It was grating, and she hated it. If she had things her way, she would have been at the manor.
"Bet it's better there," she mumbled, throwing her pillow across the room in a childish display of displeasure. She sat up, kicking the blankets off her and pulling her knees up to her chest, glancing over at the closed window and wishing she could jump from it and run to someplace else. There were times where she felt much too good for the castle, for royalty. As if there was something possessing more grandeur out there. She remembered fondly her favorite picture; her governess owned it, and it was almost like a chart. A chart showing the many steps of titles. The bottom, all the way up to the top. The very top was held by the Emperor and an Empress.
It was then that she knew that there was more to the world than just accepting the title of queen. That there was power out there greater than that of her parents. It was an intoxicating revelation, and ever since then her disdain for the lowly magnificence or the castle had disgusted her.
She craved more.
With a scoff, Ellie slid out of bed, sighing and running her fingers through her hair. Everyone who saw her said she looked nothing like either of her parents. She did, however possess small likenesses, but she was her own person in every other way. This delighted her, smugness overtaking her emotions as her fingers continued to run through her auburn locks. She would have wanted to die if she had been anything like her parents. Soft, always obsessed with the right thing and nurturing Kyrria. Ellie had never cared much for their brand of right&wrong. She preferred doing things her way, favoring a selfish kind of independence that made the King and Queen shudder.
Their eldest daughter was the very anti-thesis of what they had hoped for. She wasn’t the good little princess they could groom into the Queen with the Heart of Gold. It was a crushing disappointment.
Ellie knew they thought of her in such a way. It was always written all over their faces, manifesting itself in grimaces and sighs, hushed chatter in their bedroom at night when they thought she was asleep.
“She’s like her! Just like her, Char. Don’t you see it?”
“Ella, love please don’t jump to such harsh judgments…”
Her.
Ellie knew who they meant. It was useless for them to cover it up.
Hattie.
Ellie rolled the name over her tongue, twisting it over the t’s and huffing out h more than necessary. It sounded interesting. She had never said it aloud before, choosing to avoid it for fear that her mother would have a fit over it. She had assumed, due to the gossip that circulated the castle corridors relentlessly, that her mother and Hattie had reached a sort of reconciliation. But according to talkative knights and kitchen staff, it seems that had fallen through rather quickly.
Ellie couldn’t say she was surprised.
The princess walked over to her vanity mirror, priding herself on her reflection. She was so pale, and was reminded of this fact by her mother and handmaidens on several occasions.
“You need to get more sun.”
Ellie didn’t enjoy sitting out in the sun for the purpose if brightening her skin tone.
Sighing smugly to herself, Ellie ran a brush through her hair, pleased at how easily it curled and how smooth it was as it ran through the bristles. She wanted to spend all day here, basking in her beauty and shameless vanity…
…but breakfast was calling.
The bell was shrill and made her head hurt. Ellie turned on her heel, annoyed once again, and began the long trek down the stairs. The palace was home to a fine staircase, and Ellie was encouraged time and time again by her mother to have a bit of fun and slide down the banister.
“Like I used to do with my mother!”
She would say, grinning enthusiastically and lovingly touching her daughter’s shoulder. Ellie had wrinkled her nose up in disgust every time, and said “no, thank you mother.” Ellie’s grip on the banister tightened as she descended it; the memory of her mother’s face contorted with disappointment and hurt made her want to scream. Queen Ella had no right to be disappointed in her. Ellie was perfect…and if anything, she was far too good to be her mother’s daughter.
Ellie arrived in the castle’s dining room, catching the eye of her mother and father. Her father cleared his throat, looking down at his plate of food, poking at his eggs with his fork almost nervously.
“Good morning, Ellie.” He smiled, and Ellie smirked in response, taking her seat at the table. She looked at her father, who was still looking nervous, taking small bites of his egg and glancing at his wife every few seconds.
“Why do you look nervous, father?” Ellie asked, picking up her fork and puncturing her egg, grimacing when the yolk ran out in a disgusting fashion.
“Oh, well, dear…” King Charmont trailed off, stuffing his face full of food and then quickly cleaning his mouth with a napkin.
The Queen sighed, “Your governess. She’s quit. Apparently, she has business in Ayorthia, and she doesn’t know how long she’ll be gone.”
Ellie’s mood perked up at this. She’d never cared for her governess: she was a hateful old woman, always smacking Ellie’s hands with her ruler if ever she did wrong. It was irritating and disrespectful, and frankly, Ellie was glad to see her go.
“That still doesn’t explain your nervousness, father.” Ellie pressed, licking a drop of yolk off her fork.
The Queen took over again, “Kyrria isn’t on friendly terms with Ayorthia. Your governess knows much about us from her stay here. He’s concerned she might gossip. The elderly make your father paranoid.”
Ellie stifled a laugh. Truly, her father was weak, and her mother’s obvious irritation delighted her.
“So, no lessons today?” She already knew the answer, but hearing it, rather than just assuming it, would be so much more satisfying.
I wanna die but I'm too shocked because this is like the first thing you've ever seen on my blog and I think you have a radar built into yourself to know whenever I'm traumatized
