College Vamp

Unraveling (Part 1) (EDITED)

Malia stood solemnly in a corridor at the southern end of the castle's keep. She faced the wall - a long rug beneath her feet. The sleeves of her dress draped over her clasped hands. Two royal guards stood nearby, giving her room to be alone with her thoughts.

She stared at the large portrait on the wall before her. It had a brass frame with a pair of purple banners hanging on each side. The painting inside displayed a large group of people in front of a gray cloth. Each dressed head to toe in century-old regalia, facing the painter hired for the job.

The focal center was a man and a woman - the oldest of the crowd. The others in the portrait were all women. They were evenly distributed around the couple, giving them an equitable presence. For most, their regalia was the only defining feature, ignoring the holes in the canvas where their faces should've been. Some were torn out. Some were burnt out. Almost every face was removed, revealing the hardwood underneath the canvas. All except three.

Malia gazed at the painted eyes of herself, observing the clothing and appearance she hadn't donned in years. Her hair a far cry from the braided do she now sported. The warm, nostalgic feeling that emitted was one she couldn't help but welcome, recalling mostly pleasant memories. That feeling extended up to her stepmother and father. However, as her eyes drifted to the two other faces still on there. The feeling faded.

She stared blankly at her sisters. Eleanor, the tallest, stood next to their father. Malia had been positioned in front of their stepmother, just off to her right. Isabella, the shortest, was placed in front adjacent to their father. Malia took in their stoic expressions from that day, though Isabella's had been seemingly forced. The longer she stared, the more her mouth dipped. Her eyes darted over and was greeted with her other faceless sisters.

With a quiet sigh, she turned away, quietly walking down the corridor. As the guards fell in behind her, she passed decorated walls and banners. The closed windows blocked out the morning light. She walked in silence to the entrance hall, passing the occasional servant on the way. She descended the grand staircase and strolled to the large dining room doors to her left.

She slipped inside, carefully closing the door behind her while the guards took up the post. The dining hall was empty. The long table had a fresh cloth draped over it. She glanced at the end opposite her, eyeing her seat and the two next to it.

She walked over, pulled out her chair. As she sat down, she looked at the chair on her right. Utter silence hovered over the hall. That earlier feeling was back, creeping in with smaller doses.

Malia placed a gentle hand on the armrest, feeling the fabric beneath her fingers. Her mind tumbled down the stretches of memory lane, sighing as she found a phantom of comfort. However, she couldn't deny another lane began to pester her for attention. Her brow furrowed. Her fists clenched as she slowly shifted her attention to the left chair. Her longing eyes had morphed into a troubled glare.

The more she stared, the more the trip down memory lane infuriated her. Her fingernails dug into her palms. She shot up from her chair, shoving it away

"Rrrrrrah!"

She lashed out at her sister's chair, violently tossing it over. It crashed against the ground with a loud thud that echoed through the massive room. She stood over the fallen chair, beyond livid. Her fists clenched to the point of drawing blood from her palms if she could. Clouds of anger smother her thinking in a field of irritation. But, as quickly as it had come, it subsided, leaving her empty inside. An emotional void filled with forlorn. A feeling that underlined every memory she passed on that lane.

Her fists uncurled with a somber sigh. She sulked over and crouched down, wedging her hands under the chair. She lifted it back up with ease and gently pushed it back against the table. She wiped her hands over the headrest and armrests, dusting dirt off and smoothing out the creases. Stepping back, she brought her hands together, trying to muster up her public appearance. Though, she couldn't help but frown at the two chairs.