I feel my other self trying to get out during dinner. I suppress her barely. Until dessert. Then she is victorious for a few seconds. Long enough for her to sprinkle my stepmother's dish with fleanna, a plant whose leaves induce a rash when ingested. I gaped at it in horror. It's too late to get rid of it. So I take it out and pray she doesn't realize what I have done.
I lock myself in my room that night for fear of what else I may do. I finger my invitation and remember the prince's words. I'm in love with him. I know it as surely as I know I'm unique just like mother. Just before I nod off, I see his eyes looking at me softly.
The next morning, my stepmother is unable to rise due to her swollen limbs and itching. I am given several more chores for my misconduct but I feel a strange sense of satisfaction with my other side. Despite her tendency to get me in trouble, she does what I am too afraid to do usually: fight back. Take back control of my life. Stand up to my stepmother. And for that, I admire her and even envy her. I wish I had that courage more often.
My days are uneventful. No more outbursts from my other self come and the time till the balls flees.
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Ringo-Ichigo's random stories
I'll just be writing short stories up here about whatever I feel like. They could be fanfiction, mysteries, ghost stories, dreams, or anything. Think of this as a little smidgen of what goes on in my head.
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