Land of Wolves

LOW.2

serendipity

Amoret was patient, almost too patient.

The fear of being caught and punished for sneaking around, for she was already way too close to the stairs and closer than she had ever been before in her adult years to the front door, had been long imprinted into her brain. She had created an extensive mental map years ago, one that marked off the areas she wasn't allowed to go near. And, the risk of breaking her mama's trust again was far too high. Yet, as she stepped towards the stairs, her mind had started to declutter as the fresh air from the main floor of the house was rapidly travelling towards her, wrapping around her undiscovered form until her room felt as though it had its very own window.

Privately, and for the first time ever, she felt as though she was completely free.

Pleasantly surprised, she spent the rest of the day sitting and watching the entrance to her bedroom, thinking that this was a long-awaited present from her mama, or maybe even her papa. She cherished each breath that she took in of the crisp, new scent, and even started a habit of unconsciously wiggling her fingers to feel the course of air fly smoothly between them. She envisioned the gust as a hug from her mother, one that she so longed for, yet barely received as her mother would always complain that the act rustled up the fronts of her dresses. Only if her mother was in her nightgown would she be able to embrace her. If she was lucky, she would get one at least four times a week. And, her father? Not anymore.

Although Amoret was relatively enjoying her time, basking in the sudden open concept design, she had begun to feel rather bewildered.

"Mama?" She finally called out once she grew tired of all the waiting, confusion coating her words as she didn't quite understand what was behind her nearly brand new view. Now, the toes of her feet were merely a handful of inches away from the steps as she lightly touched the indented wood with her hand, the marks were ones her mother spent the last twenty-two years forming. Her voice was as inquisitive as ever. "I've had my nightgown on all day. I didn't know if you were waiting to pick something out for me?"

To test her theory, she shuffled over to her large closet where she swung open the doors with much enthusiasm, yet appeared to struggle and push with all her might, a task that many would easily excel in without producing a single thought. Her hand ran along expensive fabrics, handsewn hems and pompous designs. "Maybe this-" Amoret pulled out a purple gown that crushed her ribs and puffed out at her hips, fashioning her to appear to be the shape of a pear. She looked up expectantly, "-Maybe not."

"Or-" she shoved her first choice back in and plucked another from her collection, this time a contrasting shade. Yellow; dull in the darkness of the room. The top was cut into slightly curved triangles which fit flat against her chest, and the bottom fell straight down with a unique slit that revealed her glass-like leg if she chose to poke it out. Again, she looked towards the stairs with hope evident in her eyes, "-Or, not."

"Oh, how about the newest one! What do you think of this one, Mama?" Amoret asked, remembering it with a delighted gasp. Realistically speaking, she was communicating with no one, but she drew yet another choice anyway, which was a pastel pink dress. At that time, the only other instance of her wearing that particular dress was when it was first tried on to get her measurements done by her mother, to see what was needed for that specific attire, to figure out what she wanted to be loosened and what she wanted to be tightened. Unfortunately, Amoret's opinion did not matter, and her mother was the one to decide what needed to be tweaked.