// filler: charming, a short story ————♡———— ✎ a little about me ~ (in case you're new!) . hello everyone! my name is lilly, and i'm a writer, poet, horrifying artist and creator! i originally joined scratch about 5-7 years ago (original date is unknown) and my first ever account was @super_kiwibird. @miidniqht is my aesthetic acc, go check that out :0 :D okay without farther ado, here you go! ————♡———— ✎ about this project . this is a short filler story for anyone who is wondering. it's to subsitute until my final/big project is completed. :D dw, it's coming (quickly if I don't procrastinate) ————♡———— ✎ things to keep in mind (that are completely irrelevant) . no, i do not use pixlr.e. i've had tons of questions about that. no, i use canva.com. canva is a perfectly fine + easy to use website that doesn't give anxiety like pixlr.e. i love it, so you should try it out :D highly reccomended. ————♡———— ✎ story (the part you've all been waiting for) . without farther ado, i present you: charming, a short story! ______ ______ ______ Through the window, Anne could see that it was a marvelous day outside. It was quiet, except for the constant chirping of birds and the every so often hum from a light breeze of wind. It was very steep and a long way to the ground, no doubt, but the young girl did not care. She sat on the window sill, towards the open window without any hesitation or any fear that she would fall to the ground. “What are you doing?” Her stepfather shrieked angrily, grabbing her arm. “You’ll fall off and then there will be nobody to make me look good. Come on, go practice your violin, the recital is in days.” “Don’t be so harsh on her,” replied her mother, “oh look Anne, you’ve got your dress all wrinkled and dusty.” Her mother bent down and started patting her dress down but her step father grabbed her mother by the arm and pulled her upwards. “Let her do it herself, you’re not a maid,” her stepfather grimaced. “No, I’m her mother,” scowled Anne’s mother. “It’s my responsibility, and quite frankly, if you don’t respect that, then leave.” Through the layers of evil and detest and hate, there was a soft look in Anne’s stepfather’s eyes. His shoulder slumped just barely by a centimeter, and he scowled. Though he was a selfish monster, there was no doubt; there was the tiniest bit of love for the last thing he could call family. Anne’s stepfather left the room and then both of the women slumped to the floor. “I wish you didn’t marry him,” admitted the young girl. “Love blinds you,” said her mother. “At the time, I thought he was the most charming gentleman I had ever met.” “More charming that my dad?” Anne’s mother laughed. “There’s nobody more charming than your dad, of course, but I hardly remember what he even looks like now!” Anne’s mother forced a small laugh. “I do,” Anne confessed, and then sighed. She pulled out a small photograph from her pocket and handed it to her mother. Seeing it brought Anne’s mother to tears, and she could not let it go. Engraved on the photo were the words: May 21, 2012: Anne, Jane and Ben, playing in the wind. Then Anne’s mother, Jane, looked up and saw her late husband, her young daughter and herself. They were happy. Excited. Laughing. Smiling. Satisfied. Everything Jane would never, ever feel again. ————♡———— ✎ anyways, that's it for today. leave questions + comments below. please keep in mind not to steal my thumbnails, story, ideas, or anything else without asking. even if you give credit, asking is still the best way to go. thank you! :D . see you next time! ————♡———— ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ✩ ⋆｡˚ ┊ ┊ ┊ ✫♡ ┊ ┊ ✩⋆｡˚ ┊ ⊹ ✯⋆｡ ✯⋆ ⋆
