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Young Writers Society



Lips Red as Blood

by RenGrey


Eirwen - a sixteen year old girl who goes to the forest to escape the orphanage where she lives. She befriends a mysterious young man around her age out exploring one day.
Ms. Elizabeth - the cruel head of the orphanage who especially has a seething hatred for Eirwen. She does not seem concerned by the disappearances of children in her care.
Elvyn - The advisor and assistant of Ms. Elizabeth who speaks nothing but two words to the children and a glimpse of his is a rarity. His voice though is recognizable anywhere, deep and dignified.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
White, so bright and clean it is nearly blinding. Fresh snow, falling downward blankets the ground engulfing the a humanoid shape. Fanned out behind her head, cascading around her shoulders are locks of hair the color of ebony. The girls skin was nearly as pale as the virgin snow - scarcely discernible in pallor. Her eyes opened slowly and unwillingly surprisingly mundane in comparison to the rest of her facial features: a muddy brown. A scream cuts through the tranquil silence like a knife through parchment, reaching her ears radiating and echoing within the confines of her skull.
Ms. Elizabeth: Where is she?! The voice screamed angrily.
Even though Eirwen wasn't there, she was sure that if looks could kill, the one Ms. Elizabeth would have on her face at this moment would have her six feet under - or something far worse knowing her compassion, or lack thereof. That was only reserved for a compassion for holding a seething hatred for her.
Elvyn: Shouldn't be you somewhere? Another voice called smooth as silk.
Ominous, emotionless and clear as day was the voice of Elvyn - assistant of Ms. Elizabeth. He was hardly a visible presence, no one knew what he really looked up, nor could they guess his age. Only traces of silver hair and amber eyes can be used to identify him. She could have sworn that behind his hood and unmoving stone face she saw a trace of an eyebrow raising slowly, and quickly making a descent back to its place.
Eirwen: I felt like I needed some air, it got rather stuffy inside
Eirwen glanced down at her shoes being shrouded, the crimson sneakers still visible in the sea of fallen snow. Wordlessly Elvyn began walking back towards the mansion his hands deep in the pockets of his coat - the black similar to the raven color of Eirwens hair was a stark contrast to the winter wonderland in which the strode.
Opening a window might suffice. Elvyn said almost as if sighing.
Eirwen glanced back wistfully at her footfalls then towards where she was headed. She could already see her mistress standing in the doorway an expression halfway between a sneer and look pure hatred played on her lips and flashed in her eyes. Eirwen tugged at the scarf around her neck glancing up to find Elvyn already slipping into the doorway, obviously taking the saying -out of sight, out of mind- to heart. Ms. Elizabeth was the only woman she knew that could dwarf her. Eirwen an enviable five foot seven inches looked small compared the curiously tall Ms. Elizabeth who stood at a solid five foot eleven - towering over all of the young adults and children in her "care". Along with her authoritative stride and devil may care attitude she was known for her raging tempers and ruthful punishments if her rules were not complied. With a look she demanded respect which she earned, along with fear. Her eyes the color of ravenous storm clouds saw everything - through everything probing like an x-ray. She was inhumanly beautiful, with not even a spot of makeup, golden blonde tresses that seemed to catch the sunlight or moonlight at any angle. Whenever Eirwen saw her, she was reminded of her likeness to the elves of Tolkiens Lord of The Rings.
Ms. Elizabeth: You think you are so clever don't you my dear? Ms. Elizabeth lets out a nearly animalistic hiss.
She places a not so light hand on Eirwens shoulder. Eirwens first response is to shrug out of her grip.
Eirwen: Not clever, just needing some fresh air. She slipped past her into the door.
Her house mistress closed the door after them - obviously louder than necessary and strode towards Eirwen as the girl made her way up the elaborate hand carved stairwell.
Eirwen: But I will take a compliment when I get one.
Eirwen could feel the eyes of the mistress glaring at her,boring into her and burrowing into her flesh. She shook off a shudder that had trailed it was up and down her spine.
Ms. Elizabeth: Whatever gets you to sleep at night my dear, just know you never know when you won't wake up from your slumber...
Without even turning her head Eirwen knew a smile was hanging from the lips of Ms. Elizabeth. She was the only person in the world she knew that could make a threat sound....innocent as a greeting.
Ms. Elizabeth: Have a good evening - diner should be in your room by now.
Eirwen: Thank you.
Eirwen nearly cringed and chocked on her own words hating that she had to give the woman an inkling of respect. Unlike most of her peers here, she did not completely fear the woman, only was wary and and cautious for her mental state seemed to have varied somewhere between psychopathic and unstable.
Ms. Elizabeth: By the way...dear please send down Isabella for me, I would very much like to speak to her - in private.
Eirwen: Yes, it would be my honor. Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
A fist clenching her heart in an inescapable grip freezing it and waiting for it to shatter. Isabella, the girl who had been bunked with her for two years now. Intelligent and naive she was was the poster child for ignorance being bliss. Oblivious to the malevolent place in which they lived the twelve year old existed in her own realm. Ms. Elizabeth had a history of children disappearing after....private chats, if she didn't know any better Eirwen would have said she killed them in cold blood.
Ms: Elizabeth: Good girl. Eirwen could feel her patting her on her head as she made her way up the stairs.
Eirwen went down long corridors kicking her door causing every door in the hallway to clatter. She opened the door briskly throwing herself on the bed pressing her face into her pillow. She looked up to see Isabella staring down at her curiously.
Isabella: Are you okay Eriwen? her head tilted to the side.
Eirwen: I'm alright, just....tired - um Isabella... her head throbbed. Her mind whirled deciding whether to tell Isabelle of the message to be passed along to her.
Isabella: What is it?"
Eirwen: Ms. Elizabeth wanted to see you in her office as soon as possible.
Isabella: Okay! she beamed and walk-skipped her way out of the door. See you later! she calls on her way out of the door.
Eirwen: I hope so. She says instantly regretting her words as soon as they left her mouth. She pressed her face into her pillow unknowingly drifting off to sleep.
Fade Out
A note, yellowed and the writing scrawled as if in a hurry and childlike but somehow elegant. The edges were burned and blackened as if the note had been damaged in a fruitless attempt. Eirwen could almost smell the sweet aroma of burning paper and feel the curling smoke tickle her nose. It read "Eirwen I am okay - my family has found me, it was lovely knowing you - love Isabella" the image faltered as if a video camcorder was being held by a shaky hand. Then the parchment was tossed into a blazing inferno. Then everything went black.
Fade Out
Eirwen slams her fists down on the desk while a smile spreads across Ms. Elizabeth face as she glances at the young woman before her.
Ms: Elizabeth: Anger is not a good look for you. she coos moving from behind the table.
Eirwen: Where is she?! I know she is not with her family. Ms. Elizabeth's eyes seems to moisten and calm.
Ms. Elizabeth: She send her regards, jealousy is never a good look either - you know dear you can tell me if you are upset for you have not been claimed by your family yet? - I know you and Isabelle were close.
Eirwen: Shut up I will call the authorities on you, you're insane! Her hands knitted themselves into her own hair .
Ms. Elizabeth: And what is to have you be sure that they are not in my pocket? Who would they believe more? An imaginative child, or a credible woman who runs an orphanage for children such as yourself? Hm we wouldn't want anything to happen to you? Something dark flashes in her eyes.
Eirwen: Was that a threat? Her nostrils flare as Ms. Elizabeth appears right in front of her her hand at her throat her head tilted a maniacal smile on her face.
Ms. Elizabeth: Lips red as blood, hair black as night...hm you know - that was more of a promise than a threat. And soon enough I will be able to fulfill that promise. She whispers her breath colder than death, Eirwen could feel the hairs on the back of her neck freezing into place. For once she feared the woman, something had changed within her. She had nothing holding her back it seemed. Searing hot pain filled Eirwens skull as she struggled to keep from losing consciousness. Her efforts though we're in vain though as she succumbed to the darkness.
Ms: Elizabeth: You're mortality will be mine - and I shall live forever. That was the last thing Eirwen heard before everything else fell on deaf ears and her heart flooded with something dark and thick and constricted her airways solidifying but something else shifted within and she the darkness relent as if something had taken a crack at it and she heard a male voice, foreign but comforting.
To Be Continued...(and revised)


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27 Reviews


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Sun Feb 24, 2013 6:47 am
brittbritt12347 wrote a review...



Brittany here to review. :)
Like barefootrunner said, it just isn't in script format at all.
I read it but then had to stop because it was so confusing without the right script format.
I think you should edit it into the correct format and then post it on here so people could actually understand it, well people who look at it the same way I do. Anyways, have a good night.

Happy writing!




RenGrey says...


Thank you. I certainly will, I was already apprehensive posting this o here as scripts are not my medium and the format it from my my typical skillet. Then I realized that I would have people such as yourself and barefoot runner to guide me and correct and errors I might have.

Once again it is greatly appreciated.

:) RenGrey



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Mon Aug 13, 2012 3:58 pm
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barefootrunner wrote a review...



Hi there RenGrey! Here to review your piece!

Okay, firstly, this is not strictly correct script style. You should have something like this:

[Green lighting]
Ms. Elizabeth: [angrily] Where is she?!
Elvyn: [walking onto the stage] Shouldn't be you somewhere?
Eirwen: [sighing] I felt like I needed some air, it got rather stuffy inside.

No "she thought"s or "he said"s. Also, the descriptions should not be there at all, and if you do have notes on actions, mannerisms or stage, they should be in present tense, in italics or in square brackets to separate them from the rest of the text. A script is a text for a film or play, so you have to envision what it will look like and give the directions for the actors and producers so that they know what to do.

There are really many spelling and grammar errors, so I'm just going to give you a few samples here:

Shouldn't be you somewhere?


Shouldn't you be somewhere?

Have a good evening - diner should be in your room by now.


Dinner.

Mostly they are just typos, so run it over again and check them out.

Otherwise, nice action, though it is a touch melodramatic.

Well written!

barefootrunner




RenGrey says...


Thank you very much for your constructive criticism. As playwriting and script are not my strong points. Melodrama was intentional but thank you




You walk into this room at your own risk, because it leads to the future, not a future that will be but one that might be. This is not a new world, it is simply an extension of what began in the old one. It has patterned itself after every dictator who has ever planted the ripping imprint of a boot on the pages of history since the beginning of time. It has refinements, technological advances, and a more sophisticated approach to the destruction of human freedom. But like every one of the super states that preceded it, it has one iron rule: logic is an enemy and truth is a menace.
— Rod Serling