Misty Eyes: Chapter Two

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Mist walked with as much grace as she could muster down the red-carpet aisle. Her long veil was hiding her emotions, but she smiled at everyone anyway, just in case they could see her tear-streaked face. She had promised Derek she wouldn’t tell anyone about his affair until after the wedding reception. That was if she didn’t get drunk and accidentally blurt it out. Mist smirked at the thought and considered pretending to be drunk just so she could tell everyone.
He stood at the altar with his back stiff, bearing a painted-on smile. Mist was glad that Derek was at least pretending to be happy.
She arrived at the altar and handed her flowers to Gertrude. The priest began his usual boring speech with the all-too-known “we are gathered here today,” and Mist looked at Derek without an expression. He swallowed. He knew he was doomed as soon as he was married.
“Do you, Immisteria Franzie, take Derek End to be your lawful wedded husband?”
“I do.” She said it with little truth.
“And do you, Derek End, take Immisteria Franzie to be your lawful wedded wife?” Derek hesitated, his palms getting sweaty. Mist raised her eyebrows at him expectantly. There was a moment’s pause before he replied.
“No,” Derek said bluntly. Mist gave him a ‘what are you doing?’ look. He smirked at her, as if she was a drowning fish.
The guests gasped, like they do in movies when someone is publicly rejected.
“Pardon?” said the priest, abashed.
“I said no. I don’t love her,” he said. “I love Emaline,” He looked towards the crowd and spotted Emaline. He grinned and winked at her. She smiled back nervously.
Mist clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug in to her palms. Without any rational thought to hold her back, she swung her clenched fist and punched him square in the face. Blood gushed out of his nose uncontrollably in his cupped hands as he tried to stop the heavy flow.
Mist shook her hand in disbelief, for she did not know, until now, her own strength. She yanked her veil from her head, allowing her long, ginger ringlets to fall out of the bun. She hitched her dress up, kicked her shoes off and stormed back down the aisle. When she got to the end she turned around and yelled, “You’re nothing but a useless bastard and you deserve nothing!”
With renewed tears, Mist slammed the double doors shut and ran.

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“How do you think she’ll react, Darri?” Chris asked her husband, as she ascended the grand oak stairs.
“I told you already Sychristis, dear, she’s sick of all of these false alarms. She wasn’t made to be married,” he replied.
Chris stuck out her chin. She lost focus for a second and almost tripped on the next stair. With the help of Darri, she quickly regained her posture.
The couple arrived at the door of their daughter’s bedroom. She had several rooms to herself, but she didn’t often use this one.
Darri knocked on the door.
“Immisteria, dear, it’s us, your parents. Open up.”
“Humph,” was the reply, but nevertheless, the door swung free. Darrientus and Sychristis entered the small, pastel green room cautiously.
Mist was lying on her stomach on her bed, the only piece of furniture in the room. Her vibrant ginger hair was tangled like a spider’s web and her wings were fanned out. She had stripped back down to her corset and pantyhose so her hourglass figure was clearly visible.
“Immisteria? Darling, I know this is hard for you,” Chris said, gently sitting on the bed. Her daughter slowly turned her head to show her beautiful face stained with red blotches. “But we must keep going on,” her mother continued, “there’s no point crying over it…” she trailed off and put her hand on Mist’s shoulder.
Darri walked over to the window and pulled open the curtains, bringing some light into the room.
“You have no idea how hard it is!” Mist sobbed, shrugging her mothers hand off as she sat up. “I really thought he was the one. But you know what? I’m done! I’ve been cheated on, lied to, run away from, and rejected! I’m through with all this marriage stuff-”
“Sweetie, we understand if you want to stop looking, but you see, it’s your responsibility,” Chris said soothingly, “and besides, you shouldn’t give up. Your father and I had heaps of arranged engagements before we met each other. Come to think of it, I was actually engaged when we eloped…”
“Whatever!” Mist yelled in denial, “You found each other when you were sixteen! I’m eighteen and this wedding dress,” she held up the forgotten dress, “has been worn over seven times! No one wants to marry me!”
As beautiful as she was, it was true. Mist was a pixie duchess. And that means she was cursed, just like all pixies in power. A curse plagued through the family, making it difficult to find love, ruining the royal family’s reputation.
True, Mist’s parents appeared to have been married with ease, but nevertheless, they had struggled to find each other.
Mist looked down at her wedding dress. It hung limply in her arms.
“Immisteria, it isn’t all about you!” Chris said this higher than normal, “Don’t give up yet! We’ve found someone for you. Remember Stanley Emerson the eighth? He’s interested in you!” Towards the end of the sentence, Chris had forgotten about being angry and became excited. Mist curled her lip in disgust.
“That’s disgusting, he’s my cousin!” she groaned. “I’d be married by now if there wasn’t that stupid curse. Ancestors ruin everything!”
“Oh sweetie, do you still believe in that story?” Darri asked.
“Well, I didn’t until my second failure. But it doesn’t matter anyway…” Mist hesitated. She didn’t want to tell her parents her secret, but she knew she had too. Besides, since she told Gertrude at the wedding about the oath, it wouldn’t be long before her parents found out. As good of a friend as she was, Gertrude was not the most trustworthy of people, and Mist hated to admit it.
“…I’m joining the PMA,” she said confidently. Chris gasped in horror.
“Oh no you’re not! Who knows what trouble lies in the Free World? Humans and pixies don’t mix.”
“That’s too bad, because I made an oath! And there’s nothing you can do about it!” Mist said triumphantly. Chris’s eyes widened and her lips became pursed in horror.
"Well there must be something we can do to change it! We are royalty, so we must have some power!"
"No, mum, I'm joining PMA! I couldn't possibly stand having another failed marriage. You don't know how hard it is for me!"
"And you don't know how dangerous it is down there! Please, sweetheart, for your mother. I've been nothing but supportive of you through this whole situation. Surely I deserve..."
"You don't deserve anything! You haven't supported me, you've laughed at me. I'd rather face what's down there than face the Underworld. Please mum, you must understand." By this stage Mist had softened her voice and tears had formed in the corners of her eyes. Her mother rose from the bed and brushed the creases out of her pink skirt.
“Very well. That’s your decision, and I hope you do well in the PMA,” Chris said with a change of tone, taking Mist by surprise. Darri congratulated his daughter before leaving with Chris.
Mist smiled and wiped tears from her eyes. She was finally going to live a life without her parents trying to direct her. There was just one more stop before she could start living it.
Last edited by smashles on Fri Jul 23, 2010 10:12 am, edited 1 time in total.
We all have moments of desperation, but if we face them head on, that's when we find out just how strong we really are. - Mary-Alice Young, Desperate Housewives




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Great job, Ash. I love your style of writing. It's quirky, and reads well. I feel like I want to write the next installment, just so the story keeps going. :) Please finish this, it's really, really good. :)

From your bestest, bestest pal,
-Maddy.
-If at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you!
-"Careful with that light at the end of the tunnel, it might be another train coming."

This awesome post bought to you by me. :)




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sooo boring haha just kidding i didn't even read it

love you :)
If I die young
bury me in satin
lay me down on a bed of roses
sink me in the river, at dawn
send me away with the words of a love song
<3




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Okay, this is written pretty well, I suppose... But I have to be honest, Mist is kind of coming across as a bully to me.
I mean, sure, Derek's a lying scumbag who cheated on her. But if he's confessing that he LOVES someone else, and isn't just after some... erm... Booty... She punches him for following his heart? If this story was being told from Emaline's point of view, what he did might actually be a GOOD thing that makes us go 'Awwww, how sweet!'. *shrug* I'm just getting the vibe that she's a stubborn person, who always needs her way, and won't listen to anybody...
But then again, maybe that's her character, and it will change throughout the story? :3 (<- hopes for that)

Another thing: She seems very disrespectful and, um, bratty(?) to her parents. And they - like Gertrude - seem to resign themselves to the fact that she's joining the PMA very quickly and graciously. There's no pleading, no "We'll find a loophole! We'll find some way to make your oath unbinding..." They just kind of give up and wish her luck. That seems a bit odd to me...

Again, some of the character reactions felt a little off, and right now your main character is annoying me a bit, which is never a good thing. Give me some reasons to like her. Or at least sympathize with her. Knowing that she's had so many failed relationships in the past is a good start, but... I don't know. I'm just having trouble connecting with the character. *shrugs*

Keep working at it though, and again PM me when there's more. I'm excited to see how this goes. ^^
"Pay Attention. Pay Close Attention to everything, everything you see. Notice what no one else notices, and you'll know what no one else knows. What you get is what you get. What you do with what you get is more the point. -- Loris Harrow, City of Ember (Movie)



It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill —The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it—and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another.
— JRR Tolkien