Post by Pandora Irwin on Aug 9, 2007 14:10:16 GMT -5
Pandora sat in her hose perplexed that her family wanted to do this. To have a family reunion… It was rather shocking. Now it was a matter of going or not. Now it was finally the day to decide. She thought about it for another moment or two and her answer was yes. So she got up, and went to her room. She had to find a robe, maybe an emerald green for her family. Or purple, the color of royalty. Purple it was.
After a few minuets, she was dressed in a dark purple robe. Her hair nicely straightened and on the side of her head perfectly. A small amount of makeup was in her face so she didn’t have to look so pale. She stepped outside her house, a wizarding neighborhood and apperated to her old house. Victorian styled and the middle of nowhere. There it was. The house where her and Panthea grew up. Running around, bothering each other sitting alone. As she grew older, first year, second and so on. The memories of sitting outside the house, staring at the pond not to far away. Her first bloody kiss in the porch. Her only kiss to be exact. How sad it was to grow up in this house. Depressing. Her mother’s pet peeves were laughter and kindness, so her and her sister stood no chance of becoming friends. Now the b*tch was on her death bed.
As she walked toward the front porch she noticed a person with blood hair enter. Could it be? No it couldn’t. Panthea wouldn’t dare show her face in this house! Not now, not ever. She couldn’t. The family didn’t even like her. She had no relatives from far away places that didn’t like her. What if she was here to spy for her lord? Maybe this would ne a good time to take her out. Pandora put her hand in her robes pocket and held it as she opened the door with the other hand. Examining the room. No blonde hair. Her parents’ hair was already silver, and everyone else had dark hair.
Taking a seat in the corner, watching others mingle. It was good Panthea wasn’t here... She could let her guard down here; no one would try to find out about the dark lord. No one, except a sorry death eater that didn’t have a dark mark… Death eater, no follower. She was a true death eater, and no one really couldn’t take that away from her. She was one that the dark lords could trust more then anyone. She knew the dark lord before she had straight hair. When she was a young girl with perfect curls that would surround her face and bright eyes that looked innocent. That’s when she found out what true power was, and not a single soul could take that away from her.
After a few minuets, she was dressed in a dark purple robe. Her hair nicely straightened and on the side of her head perfectly. A small amount of makeup was in her face so she didn’t have to look so pale. She stepped outside her house, a wizarding neighborhood and apperated to her old house. Victorian styled and the middle of nowhere. There it was. The house where her and Panthea grew up. Running around, bothering each other sitting alone. As she grew older, first year, second and so on. The memories of sitting outside the house, staring at the pond not to far away. Her first bloody kiss in the porch. Her only kiss to be exact. How sad it was to grow up in this house. Depressing. Her mother’s pet peeves were laughter and kindness, so her and her sister stood no chance of becoming friends. Now the b*tch was on her death bed.
As she walked toward the front porch she noticed a person with blood hair enter. Could it be? No it couldn’t. Panthea wouldn’t dare show her face in this house! Not now, not ever. She couldn’t. The family didn’t even like her. She had no relatives from far away places that didn’t like her. What if she was here to spy for her lord? Maybe this would ne a good time to take her out. Pandora put her hand in her robes pocket and held it as she opened the door with the other hand. Examining the room. No blonde hair. Her parents’ hair was already silver, and everyone else had dark hair.
Taking a seat in the corner, watching others mingle. It was good Panthea wasn’t here... She could let her guard down here; no one would try to find out about the dark lord. No one, except a sorry death eater that didn’t have a dark mark… Death eater, no follower. She was a true death eater, and no one really couldn’t take that away from her. She was one that the dark lords could trust more then anyone. She knew the dark lord before she had straight hair. When she was a young girl with perfect curls that would surround her face and bright eyes that looked innocent. That’s when she found out what true power was, and not a single soul could take that away from her.
