|Skeren Dreamera (skeren) wrote,|
@ 2006-05-15 03:39:00
|Entry tags:||original, undo|
Original Fiction- Undo
Note: This is a story I have the full outline for in my head, so here's hoping that it actually stays within the confines of that and doesn't grow out of control. Wish me luck.
She wasn’t fooling anyone. Sighing quietly, she chafed her arms, wishing she’d brought a sweater to this stupid reunion party. Sure, she hadn’t expected to stay long, but there was no helping the fact that her brother was the life of the show, the grand debutante. He was the star attraction and the pride of the family.
He was also the most evil bastard she’d ever met, and he’d destroyed countless lives of small business owners to build his empire. She knew -knew- that he was the cause of a great deal of the homeless on the streets. She wasn’t willfully blind like most of her relatives, and she knew and recognized many of the faces that came to apply for jobs under the Jali Empirical as those that had been proud, happy people who hadn’t wanted to give up their livelihood. She often watched through her office window as they were turned away without talking to anyone but a secretary.
The world was falling apart around their ears because her brother was a power hungry sadist that only cared about making a buck, and she was just the silent mouse in the corner that was the most acceptable companion to go to public events with. After all, if he was escorting his sister, he didn’t very well have to deal with politicians trying to get the man to escort someone else. It was hell on her private life and more or less meant that she didn’t have one, because it wouldn’t be productive.
She didn’t hate her brother though. He was a happy, sweet, beautiful person when he wasn’t in the public eye. He knew how to be kind. He just never treated anyone but her that way, not after their father died when she was seventeen. Their mother had almost seemed to expect it, and that was the thing she understood the least out of everything. She never understood why their mother had been happy their father had died. She knew that he’d loved him, she even mourned him, but there was a content air around her too.
Just remembering those years sent shivers up her spine, and she was already cold enough from standing out on the balcony like this. It was a cold night, and she knew her brother wouldn’t be happy if he realized she went and made herself sick. She needed to find a better hiding place anyway if she was going to think, and it wasn’t like there weren’t plenty of places to explore.
The reunion party was an exaggerated reading of her mother’s will, held on an estate that no one had heard of, but had apparently been her father’s. Slipping around the edges of the crowd, she barely avoided looking into any of the mirrors that artistically decorated the side of the room she needed to pass to get to the hall. She wasn’t in the mood to see her reflection. Not that she was ugly, but she looked too much like her brother, black hair and almost golden brown eyes were apparently the legacy that their father had to pass along to them.
She made sure that outside their coloring they looked nothing alike, her hair cropped short to ensure it. It wasn’t anything that couldn’t be counted as stylish, of course, her brother wouldn’t have been happy if it had been, but it was nothing like the mid length ponytail he wore, and that was enough for her. She was the conservative, he was the flamboyant, and that was why he was down there regaling their relatives with tales of corporate espionage while she escaped to a quiet corner.
Or at least tried to. She didn’t know everyone in the building, but there were so many… political allies, friends, family, enemies, everyone that had known her mother had apparently arrived, and it left her going up, and up as she tried to find an empty room to hole up in. It was only a two-story building though, and she quickly ran out of places to look. That just left the attic, and she debated which would be better, dust, which was almost a surety if she was going to head into a cramped area, or cold, which meant that she’d get grouched at for not taking care of herself if anyone found her.
She had enough of being fussed over from the almost constantly underfoot servants. She went with the attic, searching and finding the trap door on a stretch of currently empty hallway. Pulling it down, she was surprised at the fact that it didn’t squeak, didn’t take more than a careful pull, and she outright stared when she reached the top to find it almost dust free, the things stored in carefully labeled boxes and trunks.
Quickly realizing that she didn’t want anyone else invading this temporary sanctuary, she pulled up the stairs and engaged the latch.
Opening the first box, labeled ‘Firebug’ she could only stare. Sifting through the documents inside only made her eyes grow wider, and she quickly moved from the first to the next. Then the next, and the next after that. She’d been up there for hours by the time she was done, and it was almost a certainty that everyone else was in bed or gone by now, whereas it had been morning when she’d fled up here. That hardly mattered in the face of the revelations those old papers files had revealed though.
“Daddy, what did you -do-?” There was no answer to her stunned whisper, but she would have been more astounded if there had been.