Alive, Memories, Stars, Mail, Pain, Fear
I finally finished some! Nothing special, but I'm pretty happy with most of them. Mail is kinda... I dunno. I don't really like it very much, but I'm glad I can finally cross that theme off my list. Anyway, enjoy. I'm off to spend the rest of the day studying. *rolls eyes* Wish me luck!
Claim: Anya
Themes: Alive, Memories, Stars, Mail, Pain, Fear
Completed: 12/30
Alive
Anya was sixteen when the ridiculous, impossible, magnificent idea quietly begun to form in her mind.
She was going to run away.
Her remaining rationality was desperately trying to convince her adventurous stread to settle back down into the dark little corner of her mind in which it had resided for the last eight years, but had little success. In two years, she'd be free of the orphanage and the tall metal fence surrounding it. A refreshingly cool night breeze wafter through the window, and, with the fire of determination ablaze inside of her, she had never felt more alive.
Memories
She danced with her father, just as she had when she was a little girl. The melody filled her mind. Everything was as it had been.
“Hey!” A male voice echoed around the draughty hall.
The golden fantasy vanished. The melody flitted around her mind playfully, like it knew something she did not. As her dazed mind tried to order itself, she could feel the memories slipping away. She tried to recall the golden images - the extravagant party, the ladies’ beautiful dresses, her father’s face - but they were slowly blinking out of existence, like the embers of a dying fire.
Stars
An old lady Anya had met in the village once had told her that you can tell if a person in love by looking into their eyes. “It’s like they have stars behind their eyes,” she had said. At the time, little Anya had just nodded, a little scared of the strange old woman.
Now, staring at the night sky from the boat’s deck, Anya wondered where that old lady was. I’ll go find her when we get to St. Petersburg, Anya decided, and I’ll ask her: I’ll say, “I’m in love: can you see the stars behind my eyes?”
Mail
“Mail for you,” Anya told her husband, tossing the letter across the table. Dimitri ripped open the envelope and smoothed out what appeared to be an invitation. His eyes skimmed the page and he started to laugh softly.
“What is it?” Anya asked, skirting around the table and leaning over him to read the letter.
“Vlad has finally proposed to Sophie. Wedding’s in three weeks.”
Anya laughed. “It’s about time those two got married.”
“Your Grandmother’s invited us to stay with her the week of the wedding.”
“Great. It’ll be good to see her again.”
Dimitri smiled. “Yes it will.”
Pain
It was hard to think of Dimitri off spending his reward money. It had started off, on the night of the opera, as a sharp, stabbing pain. Now, it had settled into her heart as a dull, constant ache. She tried to convince herself that she would never see him again, so she could get on with her life. It would be so much easier that way. So she told herself again and again he was never coming back. And yet here she was, staring out at the crowded ballroom, willing his face to appear among the throng of people.
Fear
Anastasia - sweet, naive, pampered Princess Anastasia - had never felt true fear until that night. She watched as the madman towered over her father, vowing revenge. She felt her grandmother’s hand on her shoulder, warm and familiar, but she could see in the Grand Duchess’ face that she was as frightened as her granddaughter. It was the panic in her strong, stable grandmother’s face that truly terrified Anastasia. Fear alone had paralysed her, but it was that total, overwhelming terror that gave her the energy to run. She was too petrified to thank the nameless kitchen boy for saving her life.
Soph
xxx
Claim: Anya
Themes: Alive, Memories, Stars, Mail, Pain, Fear
Completed: 12/30
Alive
Anya was sixteen when the ridiculous, impossible, magnificent idea quietly begun to form in her mind.
She was going to run away.
Her remaining rationality was desperately trying to convince her adventurous stread to settle back down into the dark little corner of her mind in which it had resided for the last eight years, but had little success. In two years, she'd be free of the orphanage and the tall metal fence surrounding it. A refreshingly cool night breeze wafter through the window, and, with the fire of determination ablaze inside of her, she had never felt more alive.
Memories
She danced with her father, just as she had when she was a little girl. The melody filled her mind. Everything was as it had been.
“Hey!” A male voice echoed around the draughty hall.
The golden fantasy vanished. The melody flitted around her mind playfully, like it knew something she did not. As her dazed mind tried to order itself, she could feel the memories slipping away. She tried to recall the golden images - the extravagant party, the ladies’ beautiful dresses, her father’s face - but they were slowly blinking out of existence, like the embers of a dying fire.
Stars
An old lady Anya had met in the village once had told her that you can tell if a person in love by looking into their eyes. “It’s like they have stars behind their eyes,” she had said. At the time, little Anya had just nodded, a little scared of the strange old woman.
Now, staring at the night sky from the boat’s deck, Anya wondered where that old lady was. I’ll go find her when we get to St. Petersburg, Anya decided, and I’ll ask her: I’ll say, “I’m in love: can you see the stars behind my eyes?”
“Mail for you,” Anya told her husband, tossing the letter across the table. Dimitri ripped open the envelope and smoothed out what appeared to be an invitation. His eyes skimmed the page and he started to laugh softly.
“What is it?” Anya asked, skirting around the table and leaning over him to read the letter.
“Vlad has finally proposed to Sophie. Wedding’s in three weeks.”
Anya laughed. “It’s about time those two got married.”
“Your Grandmother’s invited us to stay with her the week of the wedding.”
“Great. It’ll be good to see her again.”
Dimitri smiled. “Yes it will.”
Pain
It was hard to think of Dimitri off spending his reward money. It had started off, on the night of the opera, as a sharp, stabbing pain. Now, it had settled into her heart as a dull, constant ache. She tried to convince herself that she would never see him again, so she could get on with her life. It would be so much easier that way. So she told herself again and again he was never coming back. And yet here she was, staring out at the crowded ballroom, willing his face to appear among the throng of people.
Fear
Anastasia - sweet, naive, pampered Princess Anastasia - had never felt true fear until that night. She watched as the madman towered over her father, vowing revenge. She felt her grandmother’s hand on her shoulder, warm and familiar, but she could see in the Grand Duchess’ face that she was as frightened as her granddaughter. It was the panic in her strong, stable grandmother’s face that truly terrified Anastasia. Fear alone had paralysed her, but it was that total, overwhelming terror that gave her the energy to run. She was too petrified to thank the nameless kitchen boy for saving her life.
Soph
xxx