THE MOON WILL SING. ⸺ ❝ Sing for the damage that we've done, and for the worse things that we'll do. ❞
IN WHICH Cecile Drewitt has always been a spectator of her own life, but now it's her turn to go on stage and play the part.
OR
IN WHICH she i...
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Your WORST SIN is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing. Isn't that fearful? Isn't it fearful that you are living in this filth which you loathe so, and at the same time you know yourself (you've only to open your eyes) that you are not helping any one by it, not saving any one from anything! Tell me, how this shame and degradation can exist in you side by side with other, opposite, HOLY FEELINGS ?
-Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Crime and punishment, 1866.
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THE MOON WILL SING !
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❝ Sing for the damage that we've done, and for the worse things that we'll do!❞
CECILE DREWITT knew how to dream within reach.
She had never desired greatness, nor has she ever dreamt it─ forwhen you are the second born daughter of a pure blood family, you knew not to hope for your existence to be anything beyond meek and bleak.
Cecile Drewitt knew the rules of the game more than anyone else- she knew that she was not to disobey nor to disagree. She knew that reputation was everything, that she must be perfect at all times; that she was nothing if not a pawn.
To be truthful, Cecile liked being a pawn. It saved much unnecessary headaches.
Her life was planned ahead, everything fleshed out perfectly even before she had been born─ an infallible plan that left no room for fantasizing. Sometimes, as she laid it all came to her in vivid flashes; a wife to a rich husband, keeping their image perfect and pristine, until they took all that was left in her, until there was nothing, nothing, nothing left. And then she would wither, like a flower that was not watered, and no one would care, because nobody would see ; the garden was always glimmering, with or without her, full of other roses.
