𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐚¹- hp.

𝐱𝐯𝐢𝐢. the troubled girl cannot fool god.

꧁—— ❦ ——꧂

                             Golden hazy gust dawned resplendent September, withering leaves slowly swirled in the finality of their lives, the weather grew colder, damp and crisp in fragrance.

A deluge of rain overcast the horizon, falling as if the heavens above were pouring bucket after bucket of melancholic wisdom to those below them. A heavy mist fogged her window when she attempted to peer outside, rain echoing off the rooftop.

"Do you have everything?" Alida called from down the hallway, "I refuse to send anything that you've forgotten, I've already gone out of my way for you."

Lavinia rolled her eyes, slamming her trunk closed to further annoy her mother, "Don't worry, I triple-checked so I can avoid hearing from you."

She tuned out her mothers shouts, slipping on her raincoat and smoothing down flyaway strands of hair one last time. With a satisfied hum, she grabbed her trunk and took one last look around her room for any flaws, stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind her.

Alida appeared in the hallway in a matter of seconds, flattening the edges of her crumpled sleeves, "Come along, I don't have all day." She scowled, "So help me God, if we're late Lavinia."

"Oh, relax, would you?" Lavinia snarked, rolling the trunk behind her. "Frowning will only create more wrinkles on your face then you can afford. Botox isn't cheap, you know."

"You're an ungrateful brat." Alida spat with narrowed eyes, angrily walking down the stairs.

Lavinia lifted her trunk, leaning her weight against the banister for balance, following behind her mother. "I'm well aware."

Her mother scoffed, not saying another word as she slipped on her shoes. Lavinia put on her black boots, kicking her foot up against the wall to tie them much to her mothers annoyance, fighting a grimace where the evidence of Alida's handprint was burned into her shoulder, still healing.

Shoes tied and trunk in hand, she flipped her hood up and pushed past her mother, repeatedly pulling on the handle of the passenger door until Alida finally unlocked it, slamming the door shut as she got in. Alida sharply criticized her about broken hinges and car doors as she started the car, Lavinia responding in uninterested nods, mumbling a chorus of 'uh-huh' and 'I won't do it again' even though they both knew she was lying, pulling Romeo and Juliet out from the inside pocket of her coat.

The ride to London seemed to drag on, a confining silence that bloomed with every breath, irritation pulsating along her fingertips each time her mother opened her mouth. It was pointless, really. At ten she'd taught herself how to push her mothers voice into the background, nothing more than a distant echo while maintaining an attentive look on her face; she'd stare at her mother until she blurred into a colourful figure, humming a response or nodding in tune to the shadow of a moving hand, occasionally blinking as she floated faraway in her mind. Her mother was a fool, and she knew no better.