Olivia Silvett, a sweet girl in the morning but a cold, sarcastic and cunning at night. Like any other teenager, her highschool life is filled with friends drama, lover drama and exams but will this year be the same? or will secrets be revealed? 
Trouble is going to come the the quaint town if Endercity, America. will her human life be normal? or will it change? 

Oops did I say human life? dang it!

early notice : The city of Ender does not exist, it's my creation and so is my characters.

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This is my nth writing i have? i don't care, i just want to write

And i have say in advance, this thing of mine is suck and really bad and you can chew with gritted your teeth and know this I is very bad with english grammar so rack your brains for just to read this

AND i think you should drop this novels? or ramble? who cares

This thing is tell how man advance in his life with some big miracle and few absurd things who i say is very cannot happen in real life

Enjoys
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As we see from the title, the snake and the mirror are the two most important things in the story. This homeopathic doctor encountered a snake, the snake fell on the doctor. When the snake saw its reflection in the mirror, it was more interesting in that and the doctor’s life was saved.

"Shish kebabs! Are they Zombies?"
"No Idiot."
"But they are moving."
"They are not dead."
"Oh god what do we do now?"
Augustus was thinking fast. They were at the centre of the corridor, the entrance that they had come into the keep was too far, and on either side of the corridors were three chambers and a staircase.
The staircase was the closest. But something was not right. It seemed too easy. It was as if this was the only path the kids were giving them.  
"Ethan."
"What's up?"
"I need you to make a path. The aim is to go for the room in the middle on the left-hand side."
Ethan acted quickly. Lunging forward, he stabbed the tip of his lance, through the chest of the closest boy blocking the path, and crushed him against the wall.
Dead.
Augustus made the run for it, just as a boy came springing a giant sword towards him! Dropping to his knees, he rolled and the boy rushed by.
Augustus was on his back, with his hands up, and legs up. Ethan and Evan grabbed him and jumped into the chamber and closed the door. Evan locked it and even pulled a giant cupboard to block the door.
"Where do we go now??"
"We are trapped."
"Block it with more furniture." 
Augustus was back on his feet. Ethan and Evan were covering the door with tables, chairs, and even a giant clock.
The room that they had entered was different. At the centre of the room was a bed with gold and red curtains, a chandelier dangled in front, and the floor had a carpet. The room smelt like flowers. It must have been a lady's room.
There was even a window that looked out to the front of the keep and a giant mirror.
"If I am not mistaken. This room should be owned by the mistress. Or it was a room where the king had setup so he could have some fun."
"Kid, your only seven. How do you know this stuff?"
"They have it at all castles. And if it is true, there should be a secret passage to get here."
"A secret passage! Where?"
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Swords and axes ripped through the wooden door.
"I hope you're right." 
"Wherever this secret passage is, we better find it soon."
Boom! Boom! Boom!
"The door is going to hold much longer."
Part of the door ripped out, and a chunk of the wood dropped down leaving a hole in the door.
Today was not Augustus's day, but he didn't have time to dwell on it too long. The kids outside were coming with full force, hammering their weapons against the door, ripping out chunks of wood, with each stab more and more pieces dropped and the only got bigger.
"Ethan, pull out the bed sheets, the blanket, and the curtains and tie them together as best as you can."
"Evan, pull the mirror out. If nothing push the closets, and see if the floor has a trapdoor."
Augustus had looked around the room, there were only a few things that could possibly hold a secret passageway, behind the mirror, the two closets, and the fireplace. There was no way that the king would climb the windows.
Evan moved towards the mirror, he placed his fingers behind the mirror and pulled but it was firm and it didn't budge. 
Boom!
Augustus raced around the walls, pushing against it, no secret passage.
Boom! Boom!
Evan had pushed over the two closets and they were now on the floor.
Nothing.
Boom!
A hole in the door broke open, so big, a boy's head could come out.
"We are running out of time."
"Remove the bedside table. The lamp, the vanity."
Nothing.
"Open all the wardrobes."
Nothing.
"Ethan, your blanket should be long enough now. Tie one end against the tall boy, and throw it out the window. Make sure it is long enough that it hits the floor."
"Got it, I feel like I am a runaway princess. Are we going to climb down?"
"No."
Augustus dropped to his knees, and raced under the bed, something in his mind was telling him that this would be the perfect place to install the passageway.
The carpet did not cover the entire floor, rubbing his hand against the floor, he found timber and a latch. 
"Evan, Ethan, Come!"
Augustus went first, followed by Evan, and Ethan closed the door. He had just managed to tie the blanket against the tall boy, when he dived under the bed. Just as the door broke through, and the boys and girls from outside came charging in.
"They climbed out of the window."
"Those sneaky kids."
"Go after them!"

My name is Evelyn Lisa Giovanni.

It has been a whole a week since I left the Orphanage.

A lot has changed. 

I have been stuck here for four days. 
My food has run out, my last droplet of water has gone. 

My friends have betrayed me and left me all alone to defend for myself.

I am writing this as I am not sure if I will make it out alive. My adoptive parents dropped me at the academy believing I would make it out.

But I do not feel the same way.

The headmaster has given us an utmost important task.

To locate 10 items that have been scattered across the forest.

There are 100 candidates competing with me and knowing the academy. Only the best survive.

And to make the situation worse.

One golden bell has been found and there are only 15 remaining.

I don’t know if I have what it takes to find all these items.

I am tired. I am scared. I am cold. And I am hungry.

[If you would like to support me please purchase the full book from: 

Kindle AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B09CVYP92Q

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Kindle UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09CVYP92Q]

I always thought my old home was large, but I guess I was wrong.

This house is huge!

It has a warm, classy feeling that screams, "I'm made of money!" It's surrounded by a thick foliage of trees. I didn't even realize I was walking until I got to a large garage where some cars are already parked in designated stalls with their maintenance tools. The door is open and some guys are beside some of the cars in work overalls that are covered in grease. My guess is that they're taking some maintenance tests, making sure the cars are fine after being shipped.

The house is white with black accents. There are wall length  windows in places, that I guess are major parts of the house. The lights inside are on, so it looks like the helpers arrived already. There are balconies in some places which are definitely rooms. There are thick lawns with the sprinklers on and some flowers leading up to the huge stone steps.

"Do you need some help Miss Haden?" The chauffeur asked opening my door.

It took a while for it to register that I was being spoken to. After what seemed like ages (although it was like three minutes), I broke my staring contest with the house and took his hand which held a small map.

"Thanks, but Reyna would do", I said with a small smile.

I picked up my backpack and ran up the steps that led into the mansion, passing my parents on the way. As usual, they were busy with their assistants, on phone calls and yelling. The house was larger on the inside with warm lights gracing the walls and glistening against the floor.

Moving past them, I used the map to locate my room. It still smells musky, like it hadn't been inhabited for a long time. I could tell the walls had been repainted, seeing as they looked new. Maids in uniform, were still bustling about, carrying boxes and cleaning equipment with them.

As usual, the living room was extravagant. It housed a dazzling chandelier that was still being polished, Victorian style tea tables and floor length windows. There was a fireplace that was being scrubbed and grated. Overhead hung a family portrait we had taken in December.

It was a family tradition that every year we take a family picture. The one that was hanging currently was from last year. I'm sure the rest were hung in some hallways alongside some of the  family's elders' portraits like my grandmother and her brothers.

As I walked through the grand interior, I was greeted by some of the helpers. I passed more cardboard boxes, before finally locating the grand spiral staircase.There were more maids scrubbing, polishing and waxing. Some were even on their knees! I gave them all a warm smile before getting to the first floor as they greeted me.

With the plan I had been giving, I was able to locate my new room. The hallways upstairs had even more maids. They were a lot busier than the ones downstairs since they were caring for the rooms.
The halls had been divided into two: the east wing and the west wing. My room was in the east. I noticed all the doors were open, so were the windows so I guessed they were being aired. They were also filled with more boxes and furnishings. Grand polished wooden desks and chairs. Even the beds had a timeless design!My room was the last one so I had enough space. 

As I stood in the doorway, I took in the room. It wasn't large , but it was big enough for me. My boxes that were labeled were untouched, just as I had asked. But everything else was in place.The floors were made of fine wood. Some maids were still at work, dusting and wiping down the surfaces. They saw me standing and bowed their heads as they left.

I had a desk that was made of fine oak, engraved with a weird design that was probably fashionable in its time. Beside it to the left was a book case made of the same material with the same design pattern. It had lots of shelves and the design patterns were the same.The bed was large as well, probably enough for seven large men lying side by side. It was elevated so you had to climb three steps to get to it. It was already laid with grey covers, blankets and pillows. Even my teddy bear, sniffles ,who one of my cousins won for me when I was five was there, seated happily in the middle. At the time, he was almost double my size. There were bedside tables on each side, and they held a lamp each. Both tables were of the same design of the same design as the table. The lampshades were grey to match the rooms theme.I decided to check out my closet, but I was met with a wonderful surprise.

It was a walk-in with Japanese slide doors in front. All the furnishings were white. My clothes were already hung and everything else was where it was meant to be, including my jewelry. The closet held a dressing table and two mirrors: one full length wall and one over the table. My shoes were in their boxes on the racks and there was an ottoman in the middle of the closet. There where yellow fairy lights that illuminated the closet with a gold hue and it looked so dazzling against the polished surfaces.

I unconsciously walked over to the wall mirror and stared in shock at my reflection. I looked horrible. My braids were fuzzy and I had bags under my eyes. I looked so tired. Even my eyes seemed dull. Those eyes. I decided to take a warm bath before doing more exploration, which led me to the bathroom.

The bathroom was filled with marble. Everything was spotless and clean. The sink had a mirror over it and left of it was the bathtub and window. A full section of the bathroom was closed of containing my new rain shower. Even the curtains were white. The shower was enclosed within a glass door on the right. So was the toilet. The sink seemed to be on a table and underneath there was a cabinet with the same wood design. Behind me, there were wooden shelves and towel racks. On the back of the door there was a robe hanger. It all looked nice. I sighed as I undressed and tossed my clothes into the basket. I'm loving this place. It seemed to me like I had just found my new home. I wrapped my braids into a high bun and walked into the shower.

Too bad I would have to ruin it.

As Reyna tries to run from her haunting past,she moves to a new state with her parents, believing it was for her good, but what other secrets are her parents moving for? As one truth conceals another lie, will her parents let the truth stay hidden, or will Reyna accept it and move on? Book one in The Wolves of Valor and Might series.

She awoke in a dark room, not knowing where she was, or how she got there. She vaguely remembers a dark figure towering over her but she doesn't know why.


 What happened  she thinks to herself. Where am I?


She sits up and notices that she is on a soft bed. She stretches out her hand and feels the fabric, it's very smooth to the touch, almost silk like. She squints to look around but can't make anything out. She slowly moves to the edge of the bed and puts one bare foot on the floor. It is very cold. She can't help herself but to shiver and raise her foot again stowing it in the warmth under the thick duvet that was once covering her upper half. 


A sound comes from the dark, like someone was knocking on the door.


"Yes?" She squeaks hoping that she hasn't gone insane. 


"Have you awaken Miss? I've got some food for you. Masters orders madam" says the mysterious voice "May I come in please?"


 Reassured she clears her throat "Please do come in" 


A door creaks open, lighting up the darkened room, revealing a silhouette of a short plump lady. Her features not yet detailed as she walks closer. 


"Would you like the light on Miss? Or would you rather the curtains drawn?" The lady says with a soft voice


Still confused as to why she is here she replies in a delicate whisper  "do you mind opening the curtains please?" 


The lady gives a small chuckle "not at all Miss and please, do call me Veronica." 


"Thank you Veronica, my name is Demi, please to meet you, but might I ask why I am here?" She squints as Veronica draws the curtains  revealing a very bright and sunny day. 


"Ah, I can not answer why you are here due to not knowing myself, all I know is that the master brought you in late last night. He said to bring you breakfast when you awoke and to make sure you are comfortable until he returns." Veronica informs as she walks over to hand me a tray that has a plate of steamy eggs and smoked crispy bacon with a glass of orange juice on the side. "If you wish for anything else, do let me know and I shall fetch it for you" 


Looking around the room now that it has brightened up she sees that she is on an elegant 4 post bed. It has pure white lace curtains tied to each post, and dark brown almost black wooden frames. The bedside table matches the wood of the bed with a pure white lace tablecloth and a beautiful red and black lamp in the center. 


As she is looking around Veronica clears her throat and bows low in respect before speaking "if there isn't anything else I can do for you I shall leave you so that you can take you time to get dressed" 


"Thank you so very much Veronica" 

Getting a closer look at Veronica, she is a very beautiful lady. She has a petite nose, full plump lips and very round hazel eyes. Her hair is up in a tight bun with bangs that fall just above her eyes. Her face is thin and long with high cheekbones. She is short statured but with a nice plump hourglass figure. 


As Veronica walks away her shoes make light tapping noises on the floor until she walks out of the room closing the door after her. 


Looking around the room again there are cloths laying over the back of a velvety red chair close to the bed. Demi finishes her breakfast and lays it on the bedside table and begins to shuffle to the end of the bed throwing her feet over the edge onto the cold wooden floor. She shivers again and her hair stands on end as the cold seeps into her feet and washes over her body. 


Damn that is freezing she thinks as she walks over to the chair and grabs the clothes laid there for her and takes a look at them. The set consists of a floor length green dress with shiny feathers hanging off of the hem and long lace cuffs that are hip length, a pair of black stockings and some very lovely black two inch heels with small bows on the side.


She then proceeds to look for the bathroom. There are two other doors in the room other than the door that Veronica came through.


One of these has to be the bathroom she convinces herself as she strolls to one of the doors and twists the handle. Through the door she finds a huge walk-in closet filled with suits and dress shoes for a male. It then hit her, she had just slept in some other guys bed! She can feel her face starting to heat up as she closes the closet and heads to the other door opening it to reveal a glorious bathroom. It was a beautiful sight with granite floors and countertops. There was a big silver tub and a large walk in shower not too far from it. There were flowers on the walls. Roses, lilies and tulips lined the ceiling. The walls were a creamy brown with specks of brown all over them. There was one mirror in the bathroom but it was huge, the mirror covered one whole wall. She stared at herself and couldn't believe what she was looking at.


She looked horrible, one of her cheeks were bruised as if someone had punched her in the face and her eyes had grey circles under them. She was wearing a plain blue sleeping gown with some panties underneath.  


After a few minutes she starts to dress herself in the clothes that were laid out for her. After she was fully dressed she looked at herself again in the mirror, it didn't make her look any more pleasing. She takes one last glance and leaves the bathroom.


Once  back in the bathroom she walks back to the bed and takes a seat.  What do i do now?  She ponders where do I go?  As if on cue Veronica knocks on the door again 


"Miss, are you done getting dressed? Are you done eating as well?"


Demi chuckled a little at the timing and answered her in a cheerful tone "Yes i am finished! Please come in"


As she inters i see her face light up " you look beautiful miss!! I'm so happy you put the clothes that I chose for you on!"


"Why wouldn't I put them on? They are amazing and very comfortable!" Demi exclames and smiles 


Veronica claps her hands and then in a serious tone she informs "now miss we will need to go downstairs and greet  the master so if you are ready let us head down and wait for him to walk through the doors. And please do be polite, I know you have been to me, however the master can be dense in the girl department so do give him time." 


And with that she motions for me to follow her as she leaves out of the room, I take one last peek at the room before shutting the door behind me and following her down the hall.

When you fall asleep and have a nightmare of drowning and feeling your soul getting sucked out, then waking up to a totally different room, a normal person would feel many things. And Nam Mirae is a typical normal person, who had just woken up from a nightmare, look even more confused as she looked around the room.
The bed itself was quite comfortable, but after this safe haven, Nam Mirae was sleeping in a strange and unfamiliar environment. There was a bedside table with a candle holder of five resting on top and an open book near it. A few steps away there were comfortable-looking couches and armchairs over a bluish-grey fur carpet slightly tilted towards the fireplace that had been extinguished too recently. Opposite the bed was a moderate kitchen and behind that was a wooden door.
"Who even uses candle holders nowadays? It does very look pretty though... The design is.. different."
Nam Mirae got out of the bed and looked down and looked back up with wide eyes. Her hands then wandered around her chest as she muttered, "I lost some weight over here, no wonder it feels so light", Nam Mirae's eyes wandered down from her body and up to the new room, she knew the moment she saw her hands that this wasn't her.
'Even so, why did my skin have to be so dark. It's unfair how a person can have such pale hands resembling a ghost but still look so good.' Mirae grumbled in her heart as she looked back down at her pale and beautiful hands and small feet.
She looked around and slowly walked towards the kitchen, rummaging through drawers she came across along the way. One closet caught Nam Mirae's attention as it was very small in size and in the farthest corner and locked with a small padlock the size of a baby's fist. Nam Mirae walked towards it and examined the lock. It had no keyhole. The lock itself looked a century old and the wood of the small closet was run down but strong enough to stay put.
.       .      .
Nam Mirae's POV
The lock was rough, covered in rust it looked easy to break. The box-like closet could fit in my arms so I picked it up, brought it to the bed, and set the small box on the white sheets. 
'I can't open the closet now and I have no idea where I am. The drawers are all empty too except for some papers and thin books squeezed in some.', My eyes wandered to the back door in the kitchen.
I moved my feet and made my way to the back of the house(?) as I came close to the door, the color was a shade darker than the rest of the doors in the house. Wait. Who even used old wooden doors nowadays, where am I really? 
Anybody could tell that this door was in good condition just like this house but everything was so old and broken that it was a miracle how this house was still intact. I turned the doorknob and pushed, the door opened with a loud creak, and dust scattered everywhere around me. 
Oh god, where did all this dust come from. A big mouthful of it went into my mouth, nose and my eyes teared up. I looked to my left and saw a mirror covered with a white sheet, and obviously, I removed the sheet. It was a mirror.
She looked like her. Like that witch who killed me thousands of times in my dreams and nightmares. It was quite funny how the pale skin that I had just found pretty moments ago spreads disgust over me now. The beautiful and evil witch who tormented and was tormented. Born blind in one eye, the other was a hypnotizing red. It was her. I took her eye, and she was looking right back at me in the mirror with the silky black hair of hers, it was her. I was her and she was me. She was me and I was her.
Where am I?
What is this place?
Who...  am I?



It’s 8.45pm. 

Today’s Thursday, which is always a busy night at Biblio. So the earliest I should expect my parents back is 11pm. That gives me plenty of time. 

Walking quietly up the stairs so that my friends in the living room don’t realize where I’m going, I try to picture the last time I rummaged through mom’s jewelry box. I would have been a kid back then, maybe five or six years old. 

I clearly remember one sunny afternoon in Fall, left at home with gran while mom and dad were at the restaurant. While gran was in the kitchen making our lunch, I crept upstairs to my parent’s bedroom. I went for mom’s makeup drawer first, smearing first my lips, then my eyelids, with her pale silver eye shadow. Then I took the talcum powder from her dresser and sprinkled it all over my head, watching the snowy clouds of talc floating behind me in the mirror. I think I was trying to turn my hair whiter, which was pretty ridiculous, because it was already a very pale blonde. The finishing touch was a pearl necklace from my mom’s jewelry box, which I wrapped around my head like a diadem. 

Pleased with my work, I ran downstairs to show gran. 

I’ll never forget the look on her face as I stepped into the kitchen. 

She immediately dropped the plate she’d been holding, her lip quivering as the porcelain shattered into a thousand pieces. 

Her face turned pale as death. 

She looked like she’s seen a ghost. 

I began to cry, and she smiled then, weakly and distantly, wiping away my tears. She told me to go wash my face, and that lunch was ready. 

But I knew I’d done something terribly wrong, and I’ve never looked inside mom’s jewelry box ever again. 

Until now. 

Closing the bedroom door quietly behind me, I walk over to the vanity. I sit down on the plush velvet stool, running my hands over the lid of the jewelry box perched in front of the mirror. My fingers explore the grooves in the rippling apple wood, carved by my gran as a wedding gift to my mom. I never noticed before, but the carvings are different to her usual subjects. Most of gran’s work has a woodland or a floral theme – oak leaves, acorns, irises and wild hares peeping out from dense foliage. Her art is inspired by the forest, the land. But these carvings are an ode to the sea, an oceanic love song wrought in wood and careful hours. 

Just above the latch, a cluster of delicately carved seashells encircles two fish, swimming together to form a circle. The top strip is a riot of tiny sea snails, sea anemones, crabs and corals. 

Taking a deep breath, I click open the latch on the box. 

Inside, fine gold necklaces spill out of their trays, tangled up with diamond earrings, an emerald bracelet, and the pearl necklace I wrapped around my head as a child. 

I lift the tray out of the box, and find more gold necklaces, a mother-of-pearl brooch, more pairs of earrings. 

No silver rings shaped like sea snakes biting their own tails. 

Damn. 

I take every piece of jewelry out of the box, untangling the whole mess in case the ring is hidden in a clump of necklaces and earrings. 

But a few minutes later, I’ve picked through the entire collection and I’m still no closer to finding the ring. 

Fine. On to Plan B. 

I swing open my mom’s wardrobe doors, standing on my tiptoes to reach the hatboxes she keeps at the top of the cupboard. 

I open each of them up one by one, searching through old family cutlery, wristwatches, an azure blue silk scarf folded neatly around a large pocket watch on a chain. 

But no ring. 

I turn my mom’s entire wardrobe inside out, placing everything back perfectly in place afterwards. 

Normally, I’d feel bad about scratching around in her stuff like this. But I’m still reeling from the discovery that she threw away all of gran’s things without telling me. My anger dampens my guilt, and I work quickly, searching her bedside table, the pockets of her spare handbags and purses, even the bathroom cabinet in my parents’ ensuite bathroom. 

The ring is nowhere to be found. 

I give up. Maybe she sold it or donated it to charity like the rest of gran’s things. 

I sit down at the vanity, picking up mom’s empty jewelry box. I’m about to start returning its treasures, placing it back down on the vanity, when I notice a slight clinking. 

Faint, muted. The sound of metal hitting against wood. 

I look again inside the box, removing the light wooden tray. 

Empty. 

I turn the box over, shake it gently. 

Clink. Clink. Clink. 

Delicately, feeling like Alice peering down into the deep, dark rabbit hole, I feel around the box’s interior. There’s a momentary shiver against my fingertips. I sweep them over the same spot, and they brush against a filmy, feather-fine filament. It’s just long enough to pinch. I take a deep breath, and pull on it. 

The wooden panel lifts up, revealing a secret compartment at the bottom of the box. 

And there, lying bare against the rosy wood, is the silver ring. 

My hands are shaking as I lift it up out of the box. 

The metal is cold, as if it were made of snow rather than metal. 

Holding the ring between my thumb and forefinger, I hold it up to the light. The sinewy serpent seems to twist, radiant silvery scales shifting and slithering, flashing between light and shadow as I turn the ring round and round. 

I’m tempted to try the ring on. I want to wear it. 

But an image flashes through my mind. The girl from gran’s story, turning into a sea snake as the sea witch placed a silver ring upon her finger. 

This isn’t the same ring – it can’t be, I saw photographs of my gran and my own mother wearing it, human as can be, no scales in sight – but still. 

Some dread boils up in my stomach at the thought of putting it on, even though I feel like it’s meant for me, has always been meant for me. 

This ring was made for me. 

I look at my reflection in the vanity mirror, as I hold the ring in the palm of my hand. I have this sudden, intense urge to hold the ring up to my eye and look at myself – at my reflection specifically – through it. I have no clue where the bizarre idea came from, but it tugs at the corners of my mind. Some memory, perhaps. 

I raise the ring, and – 

CRASH. 

The sound rips through the house. 

It came from downstairs. 

I drop the ring, springing to my feet in an instant. 

I’m down the stairs and through the living room door in just a few seconds, my hands pulled into fists, ready to go all Karate Kid on whatever it is I find. 

What I find, however, is Jamie kneeling over the glass coffee table, which has finally shattered as my mom long ago predicted it would. 

Jamie’s clutching my dad’s bottle of fifty-year-old Isle of Sky Whiskey, cradling it like a baby. 

Almost half of it is gone. 

Zee’s on the sofa, her hand over her mouth as she fights back giggles, while Grace sits stony-faced next to her. 

“Ashling, oooh my god Aaaashling, babe,” Jamie says, reaching out to me. “S-sorry. I think I might have… might have… broken your table.” He giggles then, snorting with laughter. 

“Why is Jade so lame?” She says, more to herself than anyone else. “Why does he look at every other goddam girl except meeee?” 

“Jamie, put down the bottle,” Grace says. “You’ve had too-” 

“Grace, Grace,” Jamie gasps, interrupting her. “You know… you know how much I fucking love you, babe. Seriously. But you’ve got to.. hic… you’ve gotta let go. Relax. Your mama’s not here now. You don’t need to be a good little… little… hic… church mouse for her all the time. I know how much you struggle, to be her perrrrfect little angel every… single… day. I love you.. so… sooo much and it hurts me to see… see you hold back so much. Don’t keep it… hic… bottled… Let it go. Let it go, can’t.. hold it back anymore…” 

And with that she launches into a slurring rendition of Let it Go, until Zee starts laughing and clapping so loud that Jamie bows dramatically, falling over in the process. 

“See, Zee understands. Right Zee? Yooou get it.” 

Jamie pulls herself up, sloshing whiskey across the carpet as she swings the bottle in Zee’s direction. Zee responds by screaming with laughter behind her hands, her eyes watering with mirth, as Grace’s frown grows deeper, her posture stiffer. 

“I’ve been gone five minutes and you’re already wasted?” I say, grabbing the bottle from out of Jamie’s hand. “What the hell Jamie?” 

“F-fffive minutes?” Jamie slurs. “Try fifty. You were gone aaaages.” 

“I’m sorry Ashling, we didn’t know what she was doing in the kitchen,” Grace says. She rises from the couch, pulling Jamie to her feet, which is quite a feat considering how tiny Grace is compared to Jamie’s leggy, statuesque height. 

“We’re in the spare room, right?” Grace says. 

“Yeah,” I say. “Zee, you’re with me.” 

“I’ll come back and clean up the mess after I get her into bed,” Grace says, leading Jamie to the door. 

“No need,” I say. “Just make her drink water. A whole lot. And make sure she goes to sleep without breaking anything else.” 

“I’m rreally sorry Ashling, I really am,” Jamie says. “My mom will pay for it. One thing she’s good for. I wish she could b-buy me love. Then I could have him.” 

Tears well up in her eyes, and Grace quietly says goodnight, gently leading Jamie upstairs to the guest bedroom. 

“Let’s do this tomorrow,” I say, stopping Zee as she bends down to pick up a shard of glass from the coffee table. “I’ll send a text to my parents so they know what happened. I’m too exhausted to think about any of this right now.” 

Zee nods in agreement, yawning loudly as she drags herself upstairs. 

I follow behind her, knowing I should be worried about the parental wrath that’s sure to ensue in the morning, but too tired to care right now. 

Before I crawl into my bed next to Zee, I go back into my parents’ room, and place the silver ring back in its secret chamber, just like I found it. 

Later, I toss beneath my sheets, drowning beneath the waves of sleep. 

A dark ocean of slumber. 

A troubled, stormy sea of interwoven, bewildering dreams, haunted by a solitary figure. 

Him.

Sixteen-year-old Ashling Shields has had her whole life turned upside down for the second time in two years. As a freshman she was the sole survivor of a harrowing disaster. Now, in the summer before junior year, her life is once again spiralling out of control. 

The deadly force hunting her draws closer every day, and being entangled in the affairs of a world famous rock band doesn’t make life any easier - especially when there’s good reason to believe the band members are literally angels and demons. 

She’ll have to take control of her own destiny - before her destiny takes control of her.

The words don't come. I'm in a bit of a drastic situation here.

Closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose, a notification pops up.

I groan, seeing as it's my editor demanding to see a draft by tomorrow. I am so dead.

Ever since my novel titled The Red Rose came out two years ago, I've been working on multiple projects. The problem is, I've hit a wall and my mind is not working. 

I sigh and slump against my chair. Turning my head to the left, I see the poster for my first book. I was not expecting it to blow up.

I adored every character and gave them a happy ending. well, except one. The Villainess.

I was quite unfair in writing her personality, giving her this one-dimensional trait of being cold and snubby. Her backstory was not fleshed out and gave her an ending that did not justify her actions.

That may be the only thing I regret writing. I wonder how she would have been if I gave her an appropriate- ack!

My head began to throb and my heart started to palpitate faster than it ever was. An agonizing pain seered through my head while I shouted for help. 

The last thing I remember was the question "Why?"
----------

As I feel my consciousness drift away, a sharp intake of breath is what followed. I steady my breathing and massage the temples of my head. What happened?

I focus my line of sight in hopes of disintegrating the fuzzy headache that is now slowly going away.

I got out of the warm sheets and luxurious linen. Wait? Luxurious?

I face the bed and take a step back, allowing my senses to adjust to the surroundings. High walls littered with bright earth tones like burnt sienna and mustard yellow. The overall design of the interior is mostly elaborate wood or metal trim, scalloped shingles and patterned masonry.

This feels like I'm inside of a castle or a Victorian Era mansion. What am I even doing here?

I turn around and spot a vanity mirror just beside the bedside table.

Now, I think I'm dreaming. Who is this person staring at me through the mirror? I'm pretty sure that's not my reflection.... right?

Panic rises up and is starting to build. How vivid is this dream for me to feel the nightgown that I'm currently wearing, to smell the sweet scent of citrus and... no! What am I thinking? I'm just overworked, that's all.

My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a loud knock. "M'lady, the Duke has requested your presence. You are expected to be in the private atrium in two hours."

As the voice halts, emerging footsteps followed and opened the door. Three women enter, their heads facing the ground and bowing towards your direction. "We are here to assist the lady."

I stare at them and I could feel the pressure, the awkward tension and it's as if they were waiting for some kind of response. "S-sure" I muster, rubbing my palms together and let out a toothy not-so genuine smile and I could see a faint shock in their faces.

The man just behind the three women raised a brow. "Are you feeling ill, M'lady?"

"No!" I yelp and let out a high pitch noise. Why am I nervous in my own dream?

"If that is what you say, now I shall leave you to your preparations."

The women rush inside the room and began working. One of them trudging towards a mahogany wardrobe, one preparing jewelries and make-up and one was instructing me to follow her. She brought me to a room which seems like the bathroom or washroom.

An hour passes by and I'm wearing a dress that is so fancy I could never wish to wear in any normal circumstance. The dress is a combination of light blue and purple. My neck is adorned by a necklace with a small protruding amethyst as the pendant, my earrings with the same gem.

Now that I look closely in the mirror, my dream depicted myself as someone with ebony hair that would glimmer like the night sky, my skin color is rose-tinted and my eyes are the color of the gems that adorn me.

Damn, I could never be this beautiful in real life. This face reminds me of something familiar. Someone I know?

The poster in my room flashes in my mind. I look like the Villainess!

Another hour passes and I was escorted outside of the room and towards a large double door, not far away from the room I came from.

I wonder how this plays out. Why is this dream so long? When is this going to end.

"M'lady Elysia Cortiana de Sylvion greets the Duke." Announces the butler who is one step ahead of me.

.....wait.

What? Elysia as in the Elysia in my story?? Elysia the Villainess? 

The author of the hit story "The Red Rose" is hit by a creative plateau. As her imagination drifts, she thought of what could have happened if the villainess in her story was just misunderstood, neglected because she always had this look of ruthlesness and an aura of coldness around her. 

But what comes next was truly out of her control. 

The author awakes as the villainess in her own story.

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