Celeste threw things around her room angrily, her items bouncing off the cave walls as she chucked them with all of her might. She yelled and screamed in aggravation, a few delicate and glass items shattering and slicing up her bare feet as she ran around the room, destroying it. She smashed her mirror, a beautiful ice mirror with one of the many smaller celestialites she kept in her room and gasped as she looked in it, stumbling back, her eyes going wide as she saw... Lotus? No. No, that was her. What had she become? She shakily moved from off her butt to on her hands and knees and moved closer to the mirror, putting a bloody hand on her face as she looked at herself.
How... how had this happened? What drove her to become this, when did it all go downhill? A few tears streamed down her terrified face as she stared at the face that had become unrecognizable. She squeezed her eyes shut and looked away. God, what would Steele think of her? He'd be terrified, she'd never be able to face him. She'd become so crude, unforgiving, horrible. She'd become his mother.
She thought back to attacking Stephan just a few hours ago, killing her sister, plotting to kill her own damn family who she used to love with all of her heart. She was no better than Lotus now, just a bored, unsympathetic bitch who tried to kill her children, her family.
She wiped her tears and pushed herself to her feet, her expression angry and sad, though not for the same reasons as before. She looked towards her door, shaking as she saw the cave walls surrounding her. Did she even actually love Lotus and Bruce? Did they just end up seducing her? No, she couldn't blame them for her downfalls, it wasn't their faults she was weak. It always comes back to her being weak. Her expression hardened as she though this, picking up her swords unceremoniously thrown to the center of the room and putting them on. And she left the room, the cuts and bruises from the carnage of her room still on her.
About the Creator
Irene Hartley
You're walking through the woods. You come across a cottage, quaint, yellow, and shaped like a mushroom. Someone walks out of the cottage. It's me, with messy, unbrushed hair and big baggy clothes. I have come out of hiding.
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