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The Eclectic Pen - AnnaLeigh Marks....Queen?

By: Makaila Rae (bibliophile-rae)  
Date Submitted: 9/2/2012
Genre: Teen & Young Adult » Science Fiction & Fantasy
Words: 775

  AnnaLeigh Marks was a name people, in the sleepy town of Shadow Hill, tried to keep out of their mouths. The name would most certainly be followed by pity,("Poor dear, how could her Father leave her as such. A child to fend for herself.") disgust, ("That AnnaLeigh looks wretched. I caught her pawing through the Black's trash. Had half a mind to throw her scraps like a dog.") and disdain (which only constituted of a distasteful grimace). AnnaLeigh was an orphan, her mother had passed shortly after giving birth to Anna and her father left around her 13th birthday, when it hurt to look at her because she looked so much like his late wife.
Anna had grown accustomed to being alone, hated even. Growing up, her father never paid much attention and when he did, it was to strike her. Anna assumed it was because, if she was bruised and bloodied, the resemblance was hidden. She also knew she deserved it. She had killed her mother, taken her fathers love away. She could tell the man was broken, and had no will for anything anymore. He had taken to drinking while Anna was still toddling and being doted on by the other mothers. That all changed when he left. After that, she was nothing more than trash. To the town, she was like the cockroach under the fridge that just wouldn't die and instead, occasionally came out and flaunted its existence.
Currently, AnnaLeigh resided in a tight, dank alley on the outskirts of town. She was sandwiched between a bakery and a printing office. Every Tuesday, like clockwork, the bakery staff would throw out their stale bread, cupcakes and muffins and that would supply most of her food for the next week. She sometimes had to steal veggies from local merchants, and acquired her meat from traps she had set in the forest near by. The printing office was constantly throwing out newspapers and that stood in as bedding. This was a good spot, not only because of the food and paper, but because the roofs of the two buildings matched up perfectly so she was sheltered from the brunt of the rain that was common here. There was a large grate at the end of the alley that blew out hot steam, that was her place to cook food, and how she kept warm.
Anna tried to stay out of the townspeople's sight, she couldn't stand the looks she often got from them and was sad that she had come accustomed to hiding from her own town, friends from what seemed like a lifetime ago. One evening, ducking out of sight from a passing family Anna looked to the dark sky and saw bursts of flames arching above her. They sometimes collided and produced a loud 'BANG'. That no one started, or took any notice, let her know that only she could see them. She could tell they were coming from one spot, like a plethora of roman candles being shot off one after another, in a continuous firework. After a moment in awe, she methodically began moving toward what she thought was the source of the distraction. Her legs taking her while her brain made no notice. Her eyes stayed transfixed on her private show in the sky, her thoughts suddenly mute.


"She's lovely, under all that dirt." A cruel looking man spoke with an aged tongue. He stared at nothing, his arms angled at his side, palms out to channel all the energy he could. His eyes were glassed over and completely white. He was frightening to say the least. "She should make a fine Queen." the same man said. For the first time since they had begun their current journey to find a Queen, his son spoke "I hope she will. No more need perish because of this foolishness." The boy said with conviction in his voice. The boy was attractive with a full head of sandy blonde hair (a stark contrast to his fathers thinning salt&pepper mop), deep brown eyes that had once been soft but had been turned hard cruelly, and full plump lips the color of freshly bloomed roses.
Though he disagreed with most his father said, he couldn't argue, She was lovely. She had straight purple black hair that grew down to her full hips. Her eyes, he could see her in his mind, were a startling pale blue. Her skin fair and smooth, looked like dusty porcelain. She carried herself proudly, even under the siren spell that led her to them. No, he couldn't disagree, she was stunning.

The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by Makaila Rae (bibliophile-rae)

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Makaila Rae (bibliophile-rae) - 9/2/2012 9:41 PM ET
Please let me know what you think, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated :) I plan to write more once it comes to me, but right now it's still a work in progress. And always, thanks for reading :)
Karen (kalisa) - , - 9/22/2012 1:24 PM ET
Nice! Looking forward to more! I like the timeless feel of it (i.e. no specific technology). A couple of things though: It needs a line space between paragraphs (makes it easier to read); "blonde" should be blond (blonde is the feminine form).
Comments 1 to 2 of 2