𝘁𝘄: 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗱𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗚𝗼𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝗼 𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗼𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆, 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗺𝗼𝗸𝗲, 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗮𝗯𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗹

smoke. smoke-filled her lungs. it was mixed with the sickly saccharine scent of perfume. she felt like she was choking on it. and maybe she was. maybe she would have died. she imagined her funeral. they would place white lilies on her coffin. white lilies meant dead and pure. that's what she would be. her golden hair would frame her face like a crown and she would lay there in lace, white dress, like a wedding dress. she would never have her wedding day. a golden cross would hang round her neck, as if she believed in God anymore. but then again if there was a God above he would let her die here. he'd let the smoke rot her clean

at the funeral they would play old songs which she had hated in life and people whom she had never even met would turn to each other and say "do you remember that girl she was truly beautiful" or "she was only 16 how simply tragic" and as they lowered her casket her mother would wipe tears that fell with a silk handkerchief. at least she would die young and beautiful, really that's all that mattered after all... 

that is if her mother hadn't spoken. "honey do you want one?" she was, of course, gesturing to the cigarettes. they lay on the table like some sort of offering to a forgotten god. a love letter to aphrodite.

"no thank you, mama," she said quietly. desperately trying to regain her confidence. it didn't work. neither did her denial of the cigarettes. she avoided eye contact and focused on her salad. she had asked her mother if she could start making food without meat. technically this did have no meat however it wasn't exactly what she meant.

no one wants their mother's response to be when you ask a question involving food to be "I was just thinking you could do with losing some weight." she looked at herself. she wasn't fat, was she? fortunately, she was broken out of the steady stream of self-doubt by her mother talking again. unfortunately, it wasn't something Angelica particularly wanted to hear.

"come on darling. what are you going to do at school when they offer you one? you don't want to be the goody-two-shoes do you?" Angelica glanced around the room desperate for someone's help. first, she looked at her stepfather, but he was hungrily staring at her mother's cleavage which the low cut of the dress revealed. then her grandmother but her eyes were silently pleading with Angie just to agree. finally, she spared a glance at her grandfather. she instantly regretted that. his eyes were glazed over, and he was drunkenly clutching the tablecloth. it reminded her of the way her mother often looked. well, one thing's for sure the apple didn't fall far from the tree.

guess she was just going to have to accept one. "no, I don't want to be that girl mama. I'll take one." her mother smiled venomously and handed one to angelica. she then lit for her. "fine" thought angelica "if she wants me to feel humiliated by coughing and spluttering, I'll do the opposite." she adjusted the way she was holding to the way she'd seen the pretty girls do in old movies. between two fingers and then she took a puff of it. she ignored the way it felt like poison was seeping down her throat and instead simply smiled. "thank you mama that was lovely, but I don't fancy another one." she paused and took a breath. "I do have something to tell you all, however."

she looked around: her stepfather was now looking at her expectantly, her grandmother was blinking at her owlishly and even her grandfather had looked up from the tablecloth though he was still clutching it. "I've been offered a place at a school. the school's name is a riverside boarding school, and I am going to attend."

she watched their reactions. her grandmother gasped and the back of her hand covered her mouth. her stepfather's eyes had returned to her mother. her grandfather had gone back to playing with the tablecloth and muttering to himself. the only person who remained in eye contact with her was her mother. a questioning, mocking sort of eye contact that made her feel small. but she held it, raising her chin not letting it get to her. a silent debate went on through their eyes. and for what felt like the first time in her life, Angelica seemed to have won this one.

"well, I have a few requests," said her mother with another cold smile. it reminded Angie of a doll she'd had as a small child. the doll always looked as if she was looking but not truly seeing. That was how her mother looked at Angie, for as long as she could remember that was the way her mother looked at Angie. "sure mama, what are they?" she said adding her own sickly-sweet smile just for good measure.

"I want you home every holiday; I want you to write whenever you can, I'll get you a response pager." her face turned bored once more. "not well done or congrats on being accepted" Angelica mused bitterly. as a young girl, Angie had always thought that if her mother wanted to see her it meant she cared. now she knew better, her mother was simply so bored with her own life that she did everything she could to control Angie's life. as if Angie was her puppet that she could do what she liked with. she was simply a pawn in her mother's over-complicated game of chess. she toyed with her curls wondering if she could claim to feel ill and leave the dinner table.

surprisingly her mother turned to face her again "oh and Angelica dear, don't do anything I wouldn't do" she then stood up and left the table leaving everyone to follow her. as if her mother was a queen. she might as well have been. she was as cold as a queen, as cruel as a queen and as beautiful as a queen. did that make Angie snow-white? was she too destined to always put others first, to sleep through her story till a rich boy came to save her and lock her into a bigger dollhouse? if it got her out of here, she'd probably do it. however, in this story she'd rescue herself from the ivory tower. "that school is my ticket out of here" she reminded herself. soon she'd be able to leave the porcelain princess' life behind. she couldn't wait.  

𝗵𝗶𝗵𝗶 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗺𝗲 𝗳𝗹𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗜 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗘𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮'𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗚𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝗘𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗿 𝗗𝗮𝗶𝘀𝘆'𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗚𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝗚𝗮𝘁𝘀𝗯𝘆 𝘀𝗼 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵. 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻'𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲. 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘆 𝘀𝗮𝗳𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 <33333