struck by thunder, caught the lightning

lightning

She was a ghost in her own mind.

Wisps of silver curled across her forearms, whispering painful nothings in her ears, like a centipede with needles for legs the chills crept across her skin...

She couldn't do it.

Perhaps they were right. 

Lilly gasped awake, sweat already soaking the thin cloth of her undergarments. The room felt uncomfortably suffocating, all of a sudden— her skin flushed under the pale moonlight that seeped from the edge of the windowsill, and her legs were caught into an entanglement of blanket-and-pillow. 

Perhaps they were right. 

Recalling her dream, Lilly's brows furrowed. She threw off her blankets with a heave, reached for an object at the foot of her bed. 

It was a volume worn by time, the pages frayed with use and clearly loved. It was one of Lilly's most sacred treasures, the one that sent chills down her spine just to trace the engraved letters on its cover. 

It was one of the few books she owned written by a woman. And though it was nothing special—simply a fantasy-turned-adventure novel written somewhat well— Lilly held on it like it was a lifeline. 

Because it was proof. 

—

At the age of fifteen Lillian Linton was really nothing special. Her aunt stuffed her in dresses too tight for her liking; her elder sisters yearned for a bust that they thought would be flattering; her younger sister was too innocent to understand their yapping. 

She excelled in her studies, though she was privately tutored by a strict woman with greying hairs and little good to say about impertinent, ill-mannered young girls.  That doesn't matter, though, Lilly used to think to herself— all that matters is that soon I can escape this place. 

She'd read about it in books— the curious phenomena that if you pursued an education, you could bring honor to your family without living with your family. You could contribute to the "Greater Good" of society and make a name for yourself.

It was a win-win in Lilly's book. And she was sure that soon, once she'd proven herself an excellent study, her aunt would finally see and acknowledge Lilly's self-worth. And Lilly could finally leave this damn place, leave the world of crowing sisters and hate and resentment. 

She dedicated her time to the work, and her younger sister Ella, absolutely moved by this show of determination and willpower, gathered the courage to approach Lilly and ask why do you do it? Why do you work so hard, even when Aunt doesn't notice?

Lilly would smile at her sister with all the sureness in the world, and would tell her that she was doing it all for the family, so one day I can provide for you, so you don't have to be married off to some loser. 

Ella would cock her head to the side, bird-like, and contemplate this answer. 

Every time she'd approach Lilly, Lilly would offer the same response. 

And Ella would absorb the words like they were an ancient poem, written in words that were hard to understand, the meaning lost to time. 

So convinced of her future was Lilly that she couldn't detect the anger flowing out of her aunt when she'd approached Lilly, saying your sister was mumbling some nonsense, would you care to you explain why?

Maybe Ella was a little confused. Lilly should have been clearer, she supposed; her aunt was going to catch wind of her plans eventually. 

Yes, I can, actually. 

Lilly launched into her plan with fervor, words falling off her tongue like honey off honeycomb— light and airy and sweet, yet dripping with something gilded, a rich density that left a strange aftertaste in your mouth.

So she didn't expect the outstretched palm, the stinging in her cheek, the sudden tears that sprung to her eyes in an unforeseen pain.

Lilly never truly knew betrayal, or hatred, until that moment. 

The emotion that drowned out her aunt's disgusted words, the loathe in her beady eyes...

Lilly will never forgive her aunt for slapping her that day. And for destroying what was left of Lilly's already fickle tolerance.

—

Lilly whispered the words to herself like it was second nature.

There once was a girl who was afraid of nothing and everything at once. She was sure she knew everything, but the thought was foolish the moment it entered her head. 

She was scared. 

She flipped the page.

—

Can you believe that Storm of Bells ended? After following Lilly's journey all these years, she marries and that's it. 

Well, I'm hoping for some spin-off. I'm personally not a fan of Amy, though, so reading that doesn't quite appeal to me. I guess I'll read a few chapters anyway for old times' sake. 

I like Lilly. Like, really like her. But I wish there was more depth to her, and while I'm certainly not opposed to the author's choices regarding her character, I just... I just wish she showed more of her ugly side. Because I believe that a person's strength to some degree is rooted in their flaws and their ability to navigate them, to improve. Thus, if we want Lilly to be our Strong Female Role Model, we need to get deep and personal. 

And ugly.  'Cause the truth isn't pretty.

(which I am here for mwehehe)