Dark and cold. Hollow and empty. Silent.

Blossom remained tucked against a corner. She had no idea where she was anymore, despite having not left the personal library; a shell within this chamber of shelves.

Cold… She felt so cold; her skin shivered as her breaths trembled in kind. It was hard to tell if such was due to the actual cold of this darkening colorless world, or due to the traumatic fear…of what had transpired.

Exposed… She felt so exposed and vulnerable.

Indeed, scattered about were her cloths… She had been stripped naked so that at least her Berrybottom-endowed attire would be spared. Though, to forcefully strip a lady in these lands was its own act of humiliation.

Pain… She was in quite the stinging pain, even worse than that from earlier. Her cheeks, her face, her limbs, her stomach, everything…felt battered and bruised.

They had held her down, her mouth smudged to be muffled… She had been punched, kicked, spat on, strangled even… And the physical violence itself had only been matched in vitriolic viciousness by the words so hurled throughout. The things they called her; the things they compared her to… Such words had certainly stung as much as the beatings themselves.

Suffice it to say, vindictive ladies certainly knew how to inflict torment and humiliation upon another lady.

And such had only seemed to intensify and worsen as it all dragged on; as if their longly suppressed hatred of her was allowed to burst freely from the kettle at once, burning her with its boiling seethe, Burgundy being the most excessive of the bunch.

That strange…yellowish outline she had noticed around their irises…had only seemed to grow in kind, as if paired to the strength of their out-bleeding spite. Though, she did not know if that strange glow was even real, for reality felt so loose and non-existent; she was convinced it was her falling mind casting illusions.

All she knew was that they hated her, as she always knew; yet…she truly did not know…they hated her that much. Indeed, it was as if they had become lost in their hatred; as if they themselves were as lost in the moment as she herself.

Though, demonstrating such spite was not even…the worst of this happening. For indeed, Moon—the likely orchestrator of all of this—had been more of a passive interrogator than a bully. Having seemingly eavesdropped on Blossom’s…private conversation, Moon was with…rather the emergent curiosity—a dirt collector wanting dirt.

And…

Well, what was Blossom supposed to do? She wanted it to stop, she really did…

But it did not stop, even after she began to spill… as if they somehow knew her preconditioned answers…bended the truth.

And when it all finally concluded, Moon had so thoroughly warned her to never…ever speak of this to anyone, lest these certain newfound details found themselves spilling into more and more ears… Never mind, they would need to teach yet another…more potent…lesson.

In the end… she was a bastard, unwanted from birth; forever an insect to be stepped on… She felt pathetic… To have been broken so easily… She was pathetic… She wanted to be as isolated and alone as possible; she did not want to be seen by anyone…

Thus, there she remained…in her broken, almost fetal, ball…

What did she even do…to deserve any of this? She pondered and pondered…

Why was she even born…to begin with? She pondered and pondered… “I never asked to…be…born…” such words escaped her breaths…

She sniffled… Her aching cheeks began to sting and sting as drips began to drop, over and over, her jaws quivering as her eyes burned… She could no longer contain it anymore. Her heart popped as tears flowed down as if a stream; even though she was by no means sobbing, she was certainly weeping.

Her eyes retreated into her own tuckered self, her arms clenching her legs together… Despite wanting isolation, despite seeking isolation, indeed… “I don’t…want to be alone… I am so…tired of being…alone…” more words escaped her falling mind…

Yet, as if Fortune had heard and decided to scheme, Blossom suddenly began to notice in the background of her own lachrymose breaths…those sounds of footsteps, echoing from beyond that closed double door… Footsteps which were only becoming more apparent; footsteps which so clearly belonged to the same heels worn by maids like her…

Blossom’s whimpering ball of protection…tensed instantly…as she glanced her eyes; her first presumption was that they were returning for more.

Her soul escaped her being as one of the two handles began to flick and move… Dread and panic; fear and terror; all such feelings pierced into her heart, which burned more and more with every passing beat, racing along with her succumbing breaths.

The double door finally creaked open; Blossom immediately yelped in an almost panicking wheeze…

Yet all she could see…was a wispy phantasm of a butterfly…guiding way, before her consciousness faded…blackening away.

-||-

Blossom softly groaned as her consciousness slowly but surely…made its return. Hers eyes stumbled open, or rather…her vision was no longer so blurry and non-existent. The sounds around were no longer as muffled and muted either… It was as if all of her senses had been…abruptly terminated yet were now returning.

Her skin…tingled from the sensations, no longer aching as much as before… Indeed, in so many weird ways she felt so…docile and sedated, even if not necessarily so. Relaxed and calm, yet not by her own will…

She was still tucked where she was before, but now she was…

Warm…

She felt warmer than usual… Something was covering her figure, something soft…a sheet or towel or…something…

Her mind felt clumsy and dazed… It was hard to move; she just felt so…comfy.

Though, her neck…she noticed…felt exceedingly itchy and irritated, as if bugs had bitten through it. And such was not to even begin to mention the sheer and utter mindache she was experiencing, as if something had forced itself into her own head and soul.

Her eyes slothfully peered around, her visual processing…slow. It took her longer than normal to comprehend her surroundings…

But it was now evidently darker, clearly deeper in night… Though, she noticed a halo of light emanating from behind a few rows of bookshelves near… Humming, she could hear such delicate humming… A mellow voice encharming and familiar…

She noticed too, her stripped attire had been collected, folded, and neatly organized near her, shoes too…

Someone else was in this library with her; someone who had…found her and…helped her…

Blossom still could not move, her muscles being far too… She did not even know how to describe this feeling, but they were being stubborn and unresponsive.

Nevertheless, she was returning; these effects waned. She was able to straighten her posture and articulate her voice. “…hello? Who is…there?” Blossom softly exhaled, attempting to hail… “Hello? Anyone…?” she repeated, this time…louder.

Abruptly: “Huh?” echoed out from that source of bookshelf-obscured light. “Oh!” The sound of a book closing and being placed back bounced about… That halo of light began to move to the sound of walking heels, a figure quickly emerging into her sight…approaching her earnestly, holding a gentle lamp in hand…

Blossom stared; her eyes, realizing, widened…as if all that lethargic sedation had so swiftly fled her being. She had not any the words to possibly describe the sheer feeling she was experiencing; this sense of such utter relief and…rejoice…

The figure halted before her, such familiar…nightly eyes…staring down…

“M… M… Miranda??” Blossom cried, stinging tears once again flowing out from her battered eyes. She immediately lunged forth for a warm…weeping embrace, squeezing the half-elf quite tightly.

“Heya Pinky…” Miranda, breaths being squeezed, greeted… “There there…” she caressed Blossom’s head, feeling the warm tears…being absorbed by her attire… Eck… “Squeezing me…too tightly now… I’ve gotta…respirate too…”

However, Blossom only continued to cry as her weeping…turned to genuine sobs; anger, sorrow, relief, she was experiencing many things at once, her voice…incoherent and incomprehensible.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

-|-

Relative quiet… Blossom was now calmer. Sniffling, her eyes remained evasively downfaced… Embarrassed, extensively, yet…also broken and indifferent and…simply numb.

Miranda, no longer holding that now dimmed lamp, wiped at her…tear-ridden attire… “This is gonna need a washing… Yep…” she remarked, her voice cheery and positive…

Blossom…finally peeked at Miranda a little… She could see in this darkness, more clearly than before, that outline surrounding Miranda’s irises which gave her eyes that gentle nightly shine… So similar, indeed, to that which she had seen in those four, but purplish instead of…that weird yellow… And unlike those four, Miranda’s…felt real and…metaphorically magical… So mellow and soft too; they put her to ease.

“…sorry…” Blossom finally spoke, apologizing…

Miranda peered… “You know, Pink, people like it better when you thank them for…listening and tolerating, as opposed to being told that you are sorry” she remarked friendlily; “Especially when…you have no reason to apologize for anything…” she…more lowly added…

“…oh…” Blossom just…replied, her eyes falling down as if dead…

Miranda…sighed; “I leave you alone for a few days and this happens…” she exhaled aloud.

Blossom gazed her eyes again, dead eyes that were no longer…rejoiceful; “…where…even were you?” she so bluntly, yet lowly, asked; “I was alone… I thought…we were friends… Yet you…left me alone…”

Miranda’s eyes…averted away somewhat… “Well… I have just been…very busy… I like working the nights, and there are hardly any maids who actually…do those hours, and you’d be surprised how convenient a night-maid is for those sirs and ma’ams” she replied, keeping her voice…positive.

“…sure, but what about supper or…morning or…any other time or…” Blossom stumbled in voice… “Just be honest… You were avoiding me, weren’t you? You haven’t spoken to me or seen me…” her voice…so lowly said… “But you’ve been…making friends with…basically everyone else… I am a stain on that… A liability…”

“Pink… No, no… I wasn’t…avoiding…you… And yes, we… we are friends…” Miranda’s voice seemed…oddly awkward.

“…why…did you say that…so weirdly?” Blossom…hollowly…asked.

Miranda sighed; “Alrightly, fine… I admit, I wanted… I needed some me time, you know? I have things I like doing…alone, if that makes sense—and no, not just dirty things, to clarify…” thus she…admitted.

“…” Blossom stared… “…that implies that…you are…doing dirty things…when you are…alone…”

Miranda…averted away again; “Even despite having been bullied cruelly, you remain aloofly perceptive…” she remarked, before returning her eyes to Blossom; “No, but, perhaps unlike you… I like socializing and…meeting new people, and sometimes I wish to…do so alone… It does not mean I don’t like you… Friends do not need to be stitched to each other always…”

“…I suppose that’s true…” Blossom acknowledged, voice rather mellowly low…

Though, Miranda’s eyes abruptly peered deeper; “Though, to clarify… You were only bullied, rightly? Cornered and beaten up… Nothing…more, rightly?” she…more seriously asked.

“I guess…so…” Blossom so replied…

“Because…when I…found you here, I was… My first thought was…”—she paused, eyes averting—“it honestly looked as though you…were…raped or violated or…something, I am…not going to lie…” Miranda remarked; there was…actual…worry in her voice…

“I wasn’t…” Blossom replied…

Miranda sighed, eyes returning; “Goodly heard… Goodly heard…”

Blossom, relaxing, looked up again… “…what are you…even…doing here… How did you…” she was trying to ask but could not articulate.

“Well…” Miranda’s eyes once again withdrew, her mind…thinking; “It is night, and so…night duties… And…well, when I do not have anything to do, I like to come here and…read—I like reading; it is how I…discovered so much of this world we all call home… And I like to relish in the night…” she replied, her voice…sincere.

“…oh…” Blossom so lowly replied… “…I understand…” Her eyes fell down and away once again… For whatever reason, she felt…a little betrayed, as if Miranda had picked books and the night over her actual friend…

Though, Miranda had many friends by now… She got along finely with everyone, including those four perpetrators. Blossom was merely one among many, indeed… And it was so easy to be lost and undervalued, drowned out by the abundancy of others—most of whom hated her.

Thus, such was the direction her astray thoughts were finding themselves falling…

Miranda looked and…remained silent for a moment, things happening within… “Hey…” she finally began to speak, leaning herself down and closer… “Pink… Alrightly, hear me… I am… I am sorry; I am really sorry…” thus such words began to flow… “I…made a mistake… You’re right, I left you alone and…did not speak to you at all…and did not make to time to see you… That was obviously…very mean…”—she paused, hesitating—“I won’t do it again, I promise… I won’t do it again…”

Blossom’s eyes gazed up… “…you won’t?”

“Nope! I will not, I promise.” Miranda declared; “it was…honestly very stupid to think… I could just withdraw and…everything would be fine… Obviously, Fortune’s debts enjoy stalking you…” Her voice was solemn…in a way unlike any before. “Though…” she continued on, “that said, Pink, I am a…person too; I cannot always be around you… Sometimes I want to mingle with others or…really just be alone, but I won’t—excuse my tongue—fuck off like I had done, at least not without saying hellos…”

“…cool; that’s…fine…” Blossom simply replied, though there was a tiny smile on her face…

“Remember, we are…friends—no, bestfriends… And nothing will change that, understand?” Miranda finished.

Blossom nodded, that tiny smile…growing. Even though it was hard to feel happy in this moment, she was…admittedly…happy.

“Now then…” Miranda suddenly leaned in so very close, her eyes peering so…differently…into Blossom than before, that glowing outline becoming more…potent.

Blossom tensed, her own eyes locking into Miranda’s nightly own… For whatever reason, something inside could not help but feel…terrified by this emerging presence.

“So, bestie. Who did this?” Thus, with such a voice, Miranda finally asked.

Blossom nearly froze, thawed only by Miranda’s own burning breaths… She had never seen Miranda angry before, and she was not sure if…Miranda even was angry… Nevertheless, it was evident that Miranda was by no means…happy.

Yet Blossom…looked away, her voice unable to utter a single word. Indeed, those threats of the…consequences of speaking remained freshy carved into her mind… So strongly, indeed, Blossom could not even tell…Miranda. It was better, she thought, if she just…pretended nothing ever happened…

“I’m sorry…” Blossom began to reply, “I-I… I can’t tell… Not even you; I can’t tell you…” Such a strong fear had captured both her heart and mind, keeping her stuttering voice…silent.

Yet Miranda’s menacing eyes remained constant; “Why?” she merely asked.

“…” Blossom’s silence remained in kind.

“Hm. Do you know the person or…people who did this, at least?” Miranda asked.

Blossom…hesitantly nodded…yes.

“And I have it, then, that they have…some dirt they are dangling over your mouth?” Miranda asked.

“…” Blossom could not reply. Though, clenching her breaths, she finally…opened her mouth; “I… They… I was… They…asked me…things, and…I told them…things… Things about me…I don’t want…anyone to know…”

Hearing this, Miranda’s focus abruptly sharpened. “You were questioned?”

“…kind of… It was very…weird…” Blossom mumbled in reply, though paused… “Sorry, I don’t…want to talk about it…”

Miranda’s eyes remained focused and rather…spooky. “It is fine. You are fine. But just tell me: who did this to you?” she asked again, her voice as cold as her glimmering eyes; “Telling me will not cause gossips to immediately spread, Pink… They won’t know, so just tell me; I have to know…”

Blossom’s eyes averted down, her breathing tensing up… She was anxious, nervous, and…evidently terrified. She wanted to say, yet so much was working within her to keep her silence…

“I don’t know…two of their names…” she finally…kind of answered…

“So, you imply you know…some of their names? How many were there?” Miranda asked.

“Four…” Blossom admitted…

“And so… the other two?” Miranda inquired, her eyes glaring as if they were even more potent than before.

Blossom hesitated greatly, breaths jittering… Yet…with one…deep…breath, her trembling mouth opened, as she overcame the fear… “M…Moon… Moon and Burgundy…” thus, she finally told.

“…” Miranda stared, before her eyes…withdrew away, brightening irises…dimming; “Moon…and Burgundy?” her voice seemed…somewhat confused. “Burgundy, I can see her being a spiteful skank, but…Moon? I have chatted with her a lot, being a fellow night bird… She is a lot hornier than the rest, but otherwise…normal and smart even…”

“Nobody is what they appear as… Everyone has rot inside…” Blossom remarked…lowly. “Moon was the one who…asked me to follow her here, and she enlisted the other three… She also eavesdropped on a…talk…I was having with the head maid—I got in…trouble, ahem—But she…asked me questions about what she heard, and…I… I…answered…” she specified…lowly; “She’s obviously a dirt-collecting bitch; she practically interrogated me…”

“Being a dirt-collecting bitch is not necessarily the same as…well…doing this… And I never imagined her doing this…” Miranda remarked… “Practically interrogated, huh? Hm…” Things were clearly occurring within her mind, yet much remained shrouded and unreadable. She sighed; “Well… Thanks for telling me; I know it must’ve been really toilsome…” she smiled, extending her hand; “Now come on, let’s get you all…sanitized and cleansed”.

Blossom…timidly accepted Miranda’s hand and was helped back up onto her feet… She was able to stand at last; though, it was not necessarily easy.

“…what am I supposed to do?” Blossom asked… Now that she had told Miranda who the culprits were, she did not know…what was to come next… “Do we tell…the lead or…others or…” she was trying to ask…

“All you have to worry about, Pink, is…getting yourself cleaned up” Miranda replied; “I will…handle matters…and do the speaking… What can I say, my charm’s rubbed off onto everyone” thus she said with a charm, yet…her voice…seemed…

Different, in a way.

Yet Blossom smiled rather the little smile; “Thank you…for being my friend…” she more…blurted than stated, sniffling.

Miranda smiled in kind; “Yeah, always… I am your friend…and you are… You are my…friend—bestfriend, and I… I value you…”

“You really do talk weirdly sometimes…” Blossom remarked, teasingly.

“That’s because I am weird… Very weird, even—I mean, the ears kinda give it away, but somehow nobody ever quite seems to realize what I am” Miranda replied in rather the humored affect, before looking…Blossom in the eyes; “And believe me, Pink, you won’t have to worry at all… I’ll have a sweet girly chat with them and take care of everything, alrightly?” Despite such being…not necessarily what Blossom would want, Miranda’s voice…truly eased her…in a way hard to describe…

“Alrightly” Blossom smiled; “Now… I feel like utter road-stomped excrement, so…about that ‘sanitizing’…”

Miranda giggled; “That’s the Pink I know… Yep, yep what you absolutely need now is a pleasant visit to the bathhouse—and you are absolutely not wearing your attire until that is done” she stated.

“…you are going to escort me, rightly?” Blossom asked.

“No, I am going to leave a naked bullied girl to find the estate’s bathhouse on her own…” Miranda sarcastically replied; “Of course, I’ll take you… Just keep yourself wrapped and covered… I’ll hold your clothing and shoes” she smiled.

“Nicely heard…” Blossom smiled in kind.

“Come, come now; follow mine voice… And be careful, it might’ve not… Just walk cautiously” thus Miranda instructed and began to walk; “And please, do tell me what you did this time to cause this…”

“Oh, you know… My mouth…ran ahead, made a lot of…people…angry; it was the usual…” thus Blossom casually chatted, following along.

Truly, Miranda’s presence was one that made her feel so safe and…eased.

Ah…

So remarkably simple it is…

To break someone down into being so isolated and vulnerable…

That they so latch onto another…

Reinforcing their attachment

Not to mention making the other realize

The futility of withdrawal, even if denial persists…

Though, now I wonder, indeed…

What is to be done

About this little newfound…

Liability