The Never-Ending Notebook: Book of Books

Spoken In Silence: Porcelain Parties

A/N: It's me, again. This book is meant to be a short and sweet story so, each chapter is smaller than my average chapters. It is about two people with physical disabilities that don't stop them from expressing themselves. There is no need for disabilities or anything to stop you. These two lovers prove that anyone can accomplish anything by trying and speaking up. I hope everyone who reads it enjoys this small start of it. I will post another one of my chapters, by random, soon.

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Chapter 1: Porcelain Parties

The cluttering sound of hushing footsteps and clanging plates vibrate from the nearby floors. The squeaking of the old waxed floorboards outside of the door. The shushing of Macy's feet as they scrape across the floor while combing and adjusting the sitting girl's long hair. The feeling of the silky hair being brushed by the comb long forgotten. Macy hums a tune, a childhood folk song they used to sing.

The girl sits in the chair, rooted to the spot. Her smooth lavender mermaid-cut dress billowed out when the silky fabric hit the floor. The dress is paired with creme stockings and a pair of Cinderella shoes.

They're two identical girls across from each other. They both have porcelain skin and slightly, yet, artificially, applied blush on their cheekbones; a living doll, a beautiful flower showcased for all to see. A beautiful trophy.

One girl was no longer the girl that ran wild and free. The other, well, it was carefully hidden under the sea-green mist of her eyes. Looking into those eyes, one could feel the wind dance in her hair and playing cards with the leaves. One could feel the large smile that would open without a care and giggled like a fairy from the folktales that Macy, the maid, would hum.

Both girls turn their gazes downwards towards the wheelchair. The black, clunky, chaining wheelchair. Now, after the accident, the girls were shattered. The eyes faded. The mirror only being a deeper shell; a puppet. Alive, but not enough to truly be considered living.

A tool for her Uncle and Aunt to use during dinners like tonight. Stilted dinners that she couldn't refuse but sit like a china doll on a shelf. A china doll that sits in a dusting box to make sure it never is broken.

Like that doll, the girl with long black hair was preened as a peacock. Except, that girl would never strut like one but sit with her legs dangling. That girl dressed formally like if she was to be laid in a casket. Ironically, the girl felt she was already dead.

The zombie girl could hear the lively music three floors below. Chopin and Tchaikovsky twirling in the gilded hall below. Her Aunt skittering across the floor making minute adjustments to the circled dishes and squared napkins on the rectangle dress tables. Her Uncle in the lounge preparing a smoke while looking out the window. A supposedly silent action done with the noise of an elephant running from encapture. And of course, never to be forgotten, although they almost always are, the silent army of maids, butlers, coachmen, serving men, chefs and valets, footmen and many more of the unnamed, bustling along following orders from the head housekeeper.

A soft tap sounded from the door. Macy paused the combining of the porcelain girl's silky ends and delicately stepped towards the door to the left. With careful dexterity, she masterfully opened the door without a protest from the door. Soft mumbles about dinner were given before the door closed with a soft click once more.

Macy walked back to the girl who had not moved since the maid left. Macy adjusted the girl's ebony hair by placing a traditional ornate golden and purple flower crown on her head. With one last look across at the girl, the girl in the mirror, the living doll is escorted out of her room and enters the social imprisonment of the soiree downstairs.

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The ebony-haired girl with the ornate crown is carried down the grand double arched stairs with the grace of a white crane. Shuffling from the maids, shifting from the aunt, smoking from the uncle, shushing by the butlers and shy giggles of the few early guest all halted once the doll reached the midway platform of the staircase. The girl was enchanting and was a magnet for all eyes to simply look. The girl had an air that willed people to look. Either if it was her beauty or grace, people gazed upon her form.

The aforementioned graceful goddess in wisteria was placed in a cushioned chaise lounge on the first level of the traditional mansion. The room alone had seven glittering chandeliers that chimed when the wind would stream from the skylights and panoramic windows to join the classical ballroom dances. The large palace doors that were situated directly in front of the elegant stairs was left open for the guests to trickle in with their parties.

The silent girl gazes with her dark eyes ahead with an empty look examining the families walking in. The families currently entering the affluently famous Lang house doors is Zang, Hastings, Fujioka, Santiago, Matthew-Laurent, Kaiser, Tashinaga, and Ulakey. Each affluent family showcasing their riches through expensive exotic dresses matching their ethnicities or the newest fur coats and cigars. However, the current hosting family, the Lang family, was by far the most affluent and showcasing their most precious riches, their 'daughter.'

Their 'daughter' came to be a part of the Lang family in a horrific accident when the Huang family was flying to the Maldives. The Huang family was the richest of the nation and mysteriously all died in a plane malfunction, except one- the goddess of wisteria, the china doll, their new 'daughter'.

"Mei! Darling!" The sound of hurried footsteps and swishing of silkworm-spun silk paired with the smell of orchid flowers approached Mei. Awakening from her doll-like state due to the stimulus, Mei expectantly looked up at her Aunt Bai. Behind Aunt Bai is a tall Japanese man in his elder years dressed in a grey yukata with a tea green sash. A woman around the same age dresses similarly.

Aunt Bai never got used to the soul-reaching eyes of Mei, her 'daughter,' and her encapsulating beauty always caught her off guard even after seven years after the accident of her sister's death. Aunt Bai and Uncle Jian is Mei's closest family. Since then, the ebony-haired darling was a showpiece for Aunt Bai and Uncle Jiang's treasury.

"Mei, I would like you to meet the Tashinaga Family. They live near their Seiren Gardens and are the owners and executives of Seiren Tech Company." Mei nodded and smiled a gracefully delicate smile holding a winsome aura around her. The room paused and smiled when she gave her small smile. Her Aunt Bai conversed with Mr. Tashinaga, Mrs. Tashinaga, Miss Kiana, the eldest sister, and finally, the youngest sister, Miss Ayumi. They palaver about sons, business, designs, schooling and the current Living Weekly Newspaper.

Mei watches the families filter through saying their greetings and light conversations. The delicate girl in crocus vernus cheongsam offered no opinions but gave smiles like water to fresh grass. The conversations soon became scant when the sky became the color of a spilled syrah wine on a blank tablecloth. Mei's dark eyes focused on the clock on the far east wall, glittering when she found what she was looking for: blinking black numbers, twenty-two and twenty-nine.

Almost time. Almost till the mask is removed by midnight.

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