Princess Susanna Narrative

Tizio brought Painted Girl home after a long day of work. There was an odd car in the driveway. Painted Girl got out of Tizio’s truck and waved goodbye to him. She made her way up the walkway, pausing to look at the plain stoop. Beige siding, railing and door, the only color change was from the off-white concrete. She made mental plans for the entrance but wondered about the spiffy new Land Rover in the drive. She sighed. She hoped that Sarah had followed the plans for the house. It was written down in clear English, all she had to do was follow directions. She continued to hesitate worried that the house would be chaotic. She wanted to be home for Christmas. She reached for the door handle but it was jerked out of her hands and she

Although being of royal descent, Princess Elizabeth led one of the most despondent lives in the kingdom. At the young age of five, she witnessed the assassination of her father through the cracks of the closet, where she hid. Her mother, who hid with her desperately covered the mouth of young Elizabeth, for fear that she would scream. Elizabeth however, did not scream. She was at such a loss for words and emotions that she did not know how to react. It was from this day that she realized the cold, brutal harshness of the world, and promised herself that she would always stand up for her subjects to life’s evils. It was in fact

“And then,” LeRoy recited, listening to Rachel’s crayon scratch along a piece of notepaper, “the beautiful princess broke free from the castle’s highest tower. The straw broke her fall, cushioning her from the cold ground, and she laughed as she realized how thoroughly her stepmother had underestimated her talent. She freed her steed from his moldy paddock and road as far away from the prison of her old home as she could. There was a prince for her to rescue and a whole world to see, and no matter where she ended up, she vowed to herself that she’d live to become happily ever after.”

It all seemed like a blur the process of booking in, having her body and belongings searched, to putting her things in a locker. It felt like it did not happen, and as soon as she grasped a sense of reality, she found herself stood in the visitor's room, surrounded by criminals and their loving family visitors. Even though she had not seen him for forty years, she could pick out her father like a shot. She knew

Jennifer popped her head out of the ladies room, looked left and then right, saw the coast clear and made a beeline for the garage mall exit to where she parked her car. Clutching her purse close to her bosom, walking swiftly, the look of guilt affected her posture and gait, as well as her face. In front of her, the parking garage entrance in sight and escape within her grasp, she leaned her weight into the heavy glass door to open it by the polished brass push-plate that somehow tripped an internal switch that blended guilt with fear. Ronnie watched her closer than she realized because he stood outside the door in the garage like a loyal dog waiting for its master. She was muzzled to supply any explanation because she did try leaving without

“Who could that possibly be? No one cares to ever visit me,” Edward thought as he jumped up from his chair in which he was just previously reading a magazine. He smiled at the idea of having company for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He straightened up and shouted, “Just a minute!” over his shoulder towards the front door. He ran over to his mirror, fixed his hair, and buttoned his collar before heading towards the door. He arrived at the door and peered through the peephole at a nice-looking lady standing on his front porch. She wore a lovely lavender pantsuit with a matching hat, pearl earrings, and glasses that nearly took up her entire face. Edward trusted her already. So he unlatched the seventeen locks on the inside of the door and opened the door wide as he put on a welcoming smile. “May I help you?” Edward asked while still holding that award-winning

“I won’t be getting out Racine,” he cried, as a soft tear rolled down his right cheek. Sitting up again on brand new white Giza sateen soft and silky sheets, Racine, was resting beautifully on the silk sheet’s percale’s softness and airy design. Dressed in a yellow silk designer smoking Jacket-Robert opened the nightstand drawer again. This time he examined those papers one last time. Later, he shoved his paperwork back into the drawer - not wanting to think about going to prison anymore because it made him nervous. Turning around to meet Racine’s daring dark green eyes, he

It was the next morning after Phillip Higginbotham had gone to the Rabinowitz’s house for dinner, and he had realized something! He realized that he showed up to the dinner invite wearing a dress coat, but forgot to take it from the coat rack on his way out. He knew it was a gamble, but he decided to drive over to the Rabinowitz home this sunny, humid, morning to retrieve the coat. As he pulled up to the Rabinowitz home, Susannah could see that it was him through the living room window. Still flustered from their moments in the kitchen the night before, she made sure her hair was somewhat decent in the mirror on the wall, and then wrapped a light shawl around her shoulders. She then headed for the front door in anticipation for him to ring

As she was brought to the hood of an old car, she spied the tools that would be employed on her, and sneered. She also managed to spy the cameras that were trained on her, capturing every moment of her fall from grace. Soon, her arms were pinned against the hood, and despite her furious writhing, they were bound opposite each other. With a defiant glare at no one in particular and a burst of desperate of adrenaline, she screamed out “Fuck you, you’ll fucking pay!” and began to kick and writhe against her bonds with a fury, threatening to break free of the rather amateur

While she spoke she turned a silver bracelet round and round her wrist. She could not go, she said, because there would be a retreat that week in her convent. Her brother and two other boys were fighting for their caps and I was alone at the railings. She held one

It had not seemed this bright since he first laid eyes on Anna’s mother twenty years ago. He loved her the moment he laid eyes on her. She, unfortunately, loved John. If things had only been different, but they weren’t. Stephen continued drinking the scotch as he reminisced about Emily Wellington, the love of his life, although so unrequited. He thought of her long flowing blonde hair and her innocent blue eyes. Why hadn’t she been wearing her seat belt the day of the accident? Emily always wore a seat belt. A tear began to stream down Stephen’s cheek as the thought of the possibilities that would never be, not now. Anna crossed his mind for a moment. Since she looked just like her father, Stephen’s thoughts quickly returned to Emily. As the bottle of scotch neared the bottom, Stephen’s guilt of Emily’s death urged him to apologize to her. He took some stationary from the old oak wood desk’s top drawer and began to pen a letter to Emily. He explained all the details of his horrific plan in detail, the payoff, the cut brake lines, his hope of her surviving the crash and eventually marrying

Adeline had been sentenced to silence in a small, gloomy room for most of her stay in Hell. Her chamber contained a bed for sleeping and a dresser to hold her personal items (of which she had none). Together the bed and dresser composed the entirety of her new home: a damp, cold bedroom that was far from anywhere she would have liked to be. On occasion she was allowed to parade herself through the court, flouncing in the overly garish garb that Dura demandingly declared she would be wearing. Then she would fulfill her oath, coercing the most prominent members to reveal to her what they held most dear. And by the time she was done Adeline had broken loyalties and truces that demeaned Dura’s reign. But now it seemed he required something more from her, a request that would take her out from the sanctity and protection of his power. It was not in the deal she had made, and Adeline had protested bitterly before accepting that she had truly sold her soul to a monster.

She is facing the worst kind of anticipation. Hoping to never hear the police sirens resonate within her ears. Desperately attempting to shake the images of too much blood on the roof. The smell of metal is so strong that it still haunts her, making her dry heave at the worst moments. She lives her life sitting next to a murderer, and waiting as time slowly passes by them, as they wait for their inevitable end.

He cared about what she thought, so when she dared him, he and I both knew he was in trouble. He tried to find his own way out, but then he stood and thought about it. He scratched his arm, reaching out slowly. His pale hand reached for the shining bronze door handle, slightly jiggling it, only to feel a cold breeze thrill up his spine as he did. Looking down at the floor, glass shards appearing almost out of nowhere by his side. The pieces were double sided; one stained a pale-peach color, the other pure white. His heart was racing faster- thumping in his ears; it was like a metronome stuck on the pace of three hundred. He felt the side of his face, grazing his cheek. It was gone; an empty void in his face. It was cracking like porcelain. “There’s nothing more tempting than a locked door, and you should know, Lincoln Thorndale.”

Sitting in the stained backseat of a worn-out taxicab, Pearl adjusted her black satin gloves trying to remove the sullen feeling that still lingered on her from the living room she left moments ago. As she opened her compacted mirror, to re-powder her face her eyes differed to the shrinking image of the house she got acquaintance with over the last couple of months. She couldn’t help but play the time she spent at Olive’s over in her mind.