titian (titian) wrote in pastarillius, @ 2008-05-27 16:33:00 |
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It hurt to breath. It hurt to be alive. Liza couldn't exactly comprehend what was happening, but she knew somewhere in the back of her mind that she didn't want to know. She just allowed herself to focus on the brush laying in front of her, the one she had been ordered to return to it's place. If it hurt this much while she lay as still as possible, then how much would it hurt for her to move? She didn't want to think about that right now. Maybe she should just concentrate on how much more it would hurt if she didn't do as she was told. The small, usually polite and kind mistress had displayed not only a shocking amount of cruelty, but also strength. This job had most likely been the biggest mistake of her life. She was never going to see her family again, was she? Was this some sort of game these people tended to play? Did they torment their servants for fun? She wondered what she had done to merit her being here and laying on the cold unforgiving floor. Closing her eyes, tears burned as they escaped past the pale red lashes. They closed as she tried twill the cold to number her in vain. There was no escaping the pain. There was no escaping the room. There was no escaping the house or this country. She was far from home with no friends or contacts. She had been quiet and kept to herself. This was the end. The impossible task lay but a few inches before her, mocking her last moments. The brush sat there before her face, it's image blurred by her tears. She wasn't going to be able to do as Mistress Christine had asked, and she was going to be killed if she was lucky. She wondered if she'd make her beg for her death first. It was a cruel thought, but Liza knew, even in her ignorance, that there were things considered far worse than death. Maybe she could just die right here and now. If only she could be so lucky. |