It began with a word.
Week Name/Date/Time: 'Trick or Treat' / Wed, Nov 2 / 2:37 pm
Location: Front steps to the castle
Open to: Anyone
Currently involving: Adelaide
It began with a word.
Murder.
This word lay in bold, black ink in the center of a page in a weathered old notebook, whose cover had once been a vibrant blue, but had since faded to something of a grayish, twilight tinge. Many other words adorned the crisp, golden parchment pages of this notebook, words written in by hand - sometimes scrupulous, sometimes cursory. But each word was important, for strung together they all painted a magnificent picture far grander than the scene that lay outside the pages of the notebook. One might imagine it would be difficult to make a world of magic seem greater than it already was by sheer use of language; but Adelaide Adams discovered such a thing was possible and devoted herself to it. She was far better at sitting still and occupying a small bit of space while focusing on fantastic things within her mind’s eye than facing such creations in the physical world, since even her own shoelaces proved formidable foes in everyday life. The written word was, therefore, her very best friend, for she could control it; she could manipulate it and twist it to form beautiful and sometimes terrible designs, and never speak too soon, or too much.
But today’s word put her at a loss. Adelaide felt she didn’t know how to elaborate. It was gruesome, a noun and a verb and a nightmare all put together. And it had happened under their very noses. It was not a machination of her own imagination to be put in one of her adventure stories this time. No, this time it was real. There could be no erasing, no going back. Two people she knew were dead. Killed in an act of violence that was rumoured to be by someone else living in this castle.
Murder.
Addy stared down at the black, vile word. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, or perhaps her eyes were going out of focus… but it seemed to writhe before her on the page, like a serpent taunting her. She shouldn’t have written it at all. It was a terrible word. It held power, more than most words. And as much as she wanted to slam her notebook shut upon it, she couldn’t. Adelaide simply continued to sit on the ledge of the steps leading into the castle, legs dangling down and wrapped in her school robe to guard against the November chill, reading the word over and over again.
Location: Front steps to the castle
Open to: Anyone
Currently involving: Adelaide
It began with a word.
Murder.
This word lay in bold, black ink in the center of a page in a weathered old notebook, whose cover had once been a vibrant blue, but had since faded to something of a grayish, twilight tinge. Many other words adorned the crisp, golden parchment pages of this notebook, words written in by hand - sometimes scrupulous, sometimes cursory. But each word was important, for strung together they all painted a magnificent picture far grander than the scene that lay outside the pages of the notebook. One might imagine it would be difficult to make a world of magic seem greater than it already was by sheer use of language; but Adelaide Adams discovered such a thing was possible and devoted herself to it. She was far better at sitting still and occupying a small bit of space while focusing on fantastic things within her mind’s eye than facing such creations in the physical world, since even her own shoelaces proved formidable foes in everyday life. The written word was, therefore, her very best friend, for she could control it; she could manipulate it and twist it to form beautiful and sometimes terrible designs, and never speak too soon, or too much.
But today’s word put her at a loss. Adelaide felt she didn’t know how to elaborate. It was gruesome, a noun and a verb and a nightmare all put together. And it had happened under their very noses. It was not a machination of her own imagination to be put in one of her adventure stories this time. No, this time it was real. There could be no erasing, no going back. Two people she knew were dead. Killed in an act of violence that was rumoured to be by someone else living in this castle.
Murder.
Addy stared down at the black, vile word. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, or perhaps her eyes were going out of focus… but it seemed to writhe before her on the page, like a serpent taunting her. She shouldn’t have written it at all. It was a terrible word. It held power, more than most words. And as much as she wanted to slam her notebook shut upon it, she couldn’t. Adelaide simply continued to sit on the ledge of the steps leading into the castle, legs dangling down and wrapped in her school robe to guard against the November chill, reading the word over and over again.