The Roof
Oct 14, 2008 9:15:34 GMT -5
Post by Rebecca on Oct 14, 2008 9:15:34 GMT -5
*Wrapped in a shawl to ward off the autumnal chill in the air ((I'm making it autumn/winter in all my character's lives right now because it is just so much more fun and I like the fashions,)) Becca had finally made it to the roof for a breath of fresh air, her steps staggering and slow due to the ponderous nature of her figure.
Her family filled her days and kept her occupied, but the night brought uncertain terrors. The house was large--even she could not fully remember how many rooms there were--and the vast, echoing space felt more threatening than any prison cell ever could. The darkness hid corners, doors, walls and limits from her sight, and it made her uneasy.
Nightmares would come, and no matter how tightly Rudolf held her, waking would bring with it a creeping terror of being watched which frightened her more than any memories her tortured mind replayed in her dreaming hours.
The day was cool, and iron-coloured clouds were racing across the sky, now, heavy with rain, and she knew she would soon have to go back in. Scatterings of bright red leaves danced in the wind, tripping and flying along the paths and lawns far below.
Rebecca turned back to the door, only to feel something catch at her skirt and give it a savage wrench, pulling her heavily from her feet, her fragile sense of balance no match for the sickening spin the sky took as she fell towards the edge of the roof with a scream. She reached out--a stone gargoyle of some sort set upon the edge impeded her blind plummet to the ground below, and the force of her fall instead sent it crashing down, shattering upon the cobbled stones.
She clung to the solidity of the roof with a desperate sob, her arms and head half-hanging over the edge of the roof. A gardener had come running at the commotion of noise, and was now shouting for other servants, and pointing. An accident--surely she had caught her skirt on something... Rebecca heard footsteps pounding upon the staircase which led to the roof and tried to stop her trembling.
But she had heard something else.
Though she had seen no-one as she fell--she had heard a rasp of breath not her own.*
Her family filled her days and kept her occupied, but the night brought uncertain terrors. The house was large--even she could not fully remember how many rooms there were--and the vast, echoing space felt more threatening than any prison cell ever could. The darkness hid corners, doors, walls and limits from her sight, and it made her uneasy.
Nightmares would come, and no matter how tightly Rudolf held her, waking would bring with it a creeping terror of being watched which frightened her more than any memories her tortured mind replayed in her dreaming hours.
The day was cool, and iron-coloured clouds were racing across the sky, now, heavy with rain, and she knew she would soon have to go back in. Scatterings of bright red leaves danced in the wind, tripping and flying along the paths and lawns far below.
Rebecca turned back to the door, only to feel something catch at her skirt and give it a savage wrench, pulling her heavily from her feet, her fragile sense of balance no match for the sickening spin the sky took as she fell towards the edge of the roof with a scream. She reached out--a stone gargoyle of some sort set upon the edge impeded her blind plummet to the ground below, and the force of her fall instead sent it crashing down, shattering upon the cobbled stones.
She clung to the solidity of the roof with a desperate sob, her arms and head half-hanging over the edge of the roof. A gardener had come running at the commotion of noise, and was now shouting for other servants, and pointing. An accident--surely she had caught her skirt on something... Rebecca heard footsteps pounding upon the staircase which led to the roof and tried to stop her trembling.
But she had heard something else.
Though she had seen no-one as she fell--she had heard a rasp of breath not her own.*