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She slowly moved out of bed, careful not to disturb the old man who was still snoring atop it.

She took one last look at the sleeping figure, and her young, delicate features were suddenly painted with the most ferocious tinge of hate. She spat on the ground, and quietly tiptoed out of the room.

Carefully, she crept towards the kitchen, hoping that the maids were all in their beds, as they usually were at that time of night. Hardly daring to breathe, she placed her ear against the door and listened. The usual clang of pots and pans was absent, as was the loud chatter of the cooks. She opened the door, and flinched as it creaked. But it was the only sound that echoed in the dark room, apart from the quickened beating of her heart.

She hurriedly stepped across the floor and opened the door to the yard. A cold wind brushed against her face, and she shivered. She then looked up to the sky, where hundreds of little lights twinkled, as if in joy. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. A solitary tear fell down her cheek as she smiled for the first time in a long, long while.

Hearing a movement in the bushes, she froze. Her head spun with the sudden thought of going back to her master’s bedside, her torture chamber, when her brother slowly came into view.

He smiled as she ran to him, tears streaming down her face. He gently pat her head and held her hand. Together, they hastened away into the dark.

–
Image source: reddit.com/r/Art/comments/7n8w34/free_watercolor_8x11/
First written January 1, 2018.
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