The sound of retching came from within one of the many rooms in the Witch's large home, harmonizing with the sound of various curses from a southern drawl. Evangeline grasped the edges of the toilet, her late night snack and various alcoholic mixtures dripping from her mouth as she panted to catch her breath. She wasn't suffering from alcohol; She was suffering from her curse. Or at least one of them. She was pretty sure that if the manor held a vote on who was the biggest, most spoiled, most heartless bitch in the house, she would win hands down in an unanimous vote. She pulled back her hair some more, spitting the remaining chunks of food into the toilet. She groaned as she struggled to stand, looking at her tired and wretched appearance. Her crimson curls were lifeless and limp around her waist and her face was a sickly pale, dark bags under her eyes. Her lips were dry and cracked due to the lack of care given to them for the past few days. It didn't really help that she had been doing everything her curses bade her not to.
She took about half an hour crying in the shower as she bathed, her once flawless porcelain flesh now riddled with red, puckering wounds. Her body ached all over and her head screamed for an aspirin overdose as she applied makeup after her shower, having spent over two thousand dollars on literally twenty pounds of makeup just to cover her scars. The fashion heiress opted for a soft green tank top plain in appearance and a black cardigan accompanied by black dress pants and black stilettos. Just because she was locked away from the rest of the world didn't mean she had to dress like it. Huffing, she blew a ruby kiss to the mirror before leaving for the kitchen. To fix her breakfast? Of course not; To be served breakfast. She expected her adopted brother to be up soon to serve her meal. While she couldn't touch him anymore, she would still step all over him as she had been for all of her life. What? There was nothing wrong with it; He was related to her or anything. And he was lucky that she was so kind to him. And that she saved him from those various horrible cunts; She was a goddess compared to them. And most others.
Her head was held high as she did enter the kitchen, hardly regarding the others within the room as she moved towards the oak wood table, dusting off the seat before sliding into it. She pulled out her phone from her pocket to check on her parents' fashion line, hoping that the dress she sent them last week was doing well. Of course it was; She designed it. A smirk curved her lips as she gave a soft "hmpf" of approval and began flipping through photos of male models.
She took about half an hour crying in the shower as she bathed, her once flawless porcelain flesh now riddled with red, puckering wounds. Her body ached all over and her head screamed for an aspirin overdose as she applied makeup after her shower, having spent over two thousand dollars on literally twenty pounds of makeup just to cover her scars. The fashion heiress opted for a soft green tank top plain in appearance and a black cardigan accompanied by black dress pants and black stilettos. Just because she was locked away from the rest of the world didn't mean she had to dress like it. Huffing, she blew a ruby kiss to the mirror before leaving for the kitchen. To fix her breakfast? Of course not; To be served breakfast. She expected her adopted brother to be up soon to serve her meal. While she couldn't touch him anymore, she would still step all over him as she had been for all of her life. What? There was nothing wrong with it; He was related to her or anything. And he was lucky that she was so kind to him. And that she saved him from those various horrible cunts; She was a goddess compared to them. And most others.
Her head was held high as she did enter the kitchen, hardly regarding the others within the room as she moved towards the oak wood table, dusting off the seat before sliding into it. She pulled out her phone from her pocket to check on her parents' fashion line, hoping that the dress she sent them last week was doing well. Of course it was; She designed it. A smirk curved her lips as she gave a soft "hmpf" of approval and began flipping through photos of male models.