` dolls, e&a
` ravelsa
Jaded by the eeriness of the dark, the night prolonged, as if not wanting to end. It crept with vigilance, slowly its fingertips would lace around her as each breath arduously left her gaped lips. Palms become sweaty, tossed under the blankets as her grasp tightens – clenched. Almost numb, senseless she becomes and she is impervious to the pain, the throbbing pain that tousled her heart in its ribcage. A second breath draws in and this time, she is lucky as panicked orbs open and instinctively gripping onto her heart from the outside and she breathes, irregularly but she breathes. Immediately, as dilated pupils shoot for the box that sat by the corner of her bed. She had been neglectful to open it, a part of her was afraid but she did not know why, the other was merely a burning hatred that ignited inside of her. Part of her loathed her biological mother and perhaps the feelings were mutual. But then again, some sort of magnetism pulled her towards it, curiosity killed the cat, and now, it’s about to do the same thing to her.
Trembling fingers caress the edges of the box, hesitant in her actions she retrieves them only to find them hovering over the lid again and again. She swallows, and this time she is certain, that she will open it. Mustering the courage she whips the lid off and before she could react, she scrambles back into the closures of her blanket, gasping for precious air.
The very first rays of dawn sporadically pierce through the timidly dark room. The box had remained opened, untouched and unwanted. However, majority of her was riveting with interest and curiosity but repelled were the emotions of fear. She does little to make contact with it, rushing off to get ready before darting for the door. Stumbling more than usual over her own feet, as she crashed into the Ravenclaw; drained orbs dart back and forth before easing a crooked smile onto her lips.
“Oh, Elsa...”
Cold fingers elevate to rest on her nape as she sighs, sight dropping to the floor. Somewhat relieved, that the doll wouldn’t be running after her. Precisely, she was afraid of a porcelain doll. Its features were dramatically familiar, but she was all too afraid to get a close look.
“I-I’m going to go now.”