Priscilla


She vanished just as the new year started, Priscilla realized.


She could hear the party continuing downstairs, the hundreds of people in the ballroom unbeknownst to recent events. In fact, Priscilla was pretty sure only herself, her great grandmother, and obviously Penolope knew about great grandmother's patience finally wearing thin, and Penolope becoming permanently estranged from the family.


She had thought that was what she wanted. All of her life, for sixteen straight years she had worked tirelessly to prove to her great grandmother that she was the only good choice to be her heiress, and take control of the family, the fortune, and the estate. She had done everything thing she asked, and earned quite the reputation at the private school she attended. She radiated power, and she knew it. Her twin sister couldn't be more different than her.


Penolope had never once tried to impress great grandma bev, and only cared about her art. She had a reputation at the private school as well. Penolope Dutch was known as the surprisingly disappointing Dutch. Priscilla knew that Penolope had never understood any of the families lucrative businesses, or even their powerful connections. She had always been weak. Weak willed, weak intelligence, and weak compared to her sister who was a tyrant since the nursery. Priscilla had always known it would come to this. Weakness wasn't allowed in the Dutch family, especially Weaknesses such as penolopes, Weaknesses that would irreversibly ruin the familys reputation and wealth.


She had known penolope getting kicked out of the family was unavoidable, but she had still tried to help her for a long time. Recently, she had to give up or she might have to face her great grandmother's wrath as well. She had known it was coming, and she never loved, or even particularly liked her sister, so why was this so hard?


Priscilla lifted her head tolook at her own reflection in the bathroom mirror. She met her own dark brown eyes and looked deep inside them. When she found the hardened expression she had crafted perfectly after years of practice, she stopped leaning on the large obsidian bathroom sink and stood up straight to let herself examine the rest of herself. She was wearing a long tight black dress with a sparkling bodice, which was appropriate for new years, and perfectly fit her fashion of dangerously beautiful. Her hair was in an updo so tight it would give any other person a painful headache. She didn't care. She looked good. More importantly, she looked powerful and in control. From her tight updo to her six inch black stilletoes, she was not a women to be messed with. She kept those thoughts at the front of her mind as she left the bathroom.


She had ment to go back down to the party, but halfway down the stairs she saw the painting of the only time penolope had allowed Priscilla tto be dressed identical to her. They were about four, and Priscilla was beaming, while Penolope looked like she was about to ball. It was signed at the bottom. Penny and Ella, March 18th.


Priscilla felt her hardened expression break as tears started to well in her eyes. She turned as fast as possible and nearly broke her ankles as she ran up the grand stairway in her stilettos. There was only one place in the huge estate she could go to be truely alone.


When she reached her room, she slammed the door shut and slid to the floor. Once the tears started flowing, she couldn't stop them.


When she had been braking down on her floor for So long her eyes were dry and puffy, her head hurt, and her nose was dripping on her dress she worked to slow the flow of her tears. She noticed how disgusting her dress had become, she slowly got up and went to change into a new dress. She through open her walk in closets doors only to be on the ground crying again, remembering why she had been avoiding her closet lately. The blood splattered white dress was still strewn on the floor. Priscilla's stomach churned at the sight of it. She had been involved in the deaths of people before, but last week in that white dress had been the first time she had ever taken a life herself. Watching the life fade from someone's eyes, especially his eyes, was not something she would forget anytime soon.


She had just begun hyperventilating on the floor when she heard a door creak behind her. She whipped her head around, her fear heightened by her unruly emotional state. She held her breath as her great grandmother emerged from her attached bathroom. She was on her feet in an instant.


" grandmother", she addressed her, not sure how she should go about explaining her emotional outburst.


Her great grandmother moved towards her until they stood eye to eye. Priscilla was much taller than her great grandmother, but that did nothing to disperse the understanding that she was much less dangerous and intimidating than her grandmother. Swollen eyes peered into old ones as they stood there. Her grandmother's expression stayed neutral as she brought her hand up to slap the side of Priscilla's face. It hurt like hell, but priscella knew she had already shown far to much weakness today. She barley flinched at the hard strike.


Her grandmother's voice dripped anger and disappointment when she spoke. " unbelievable," she spat. " how are you supposed to be my heir if you have brake downs like this. Whether you're blubbering over your sister being gone for for good, or your recent extermination of that troublesome boy, I don't care. If you can't handle things like this, you will never be able to handle day to day life as the leader of this family. I expect better, especially from you." She finished speaking and walked away without missing a beat. She turned right as she reached the door.


" you have one night. Cry and feel sorry for yourself tonight, while the party covers the noise of your breakdown. After tonight, if I even see one tear, I'll take it as a sign that you will never be ready for the burdens that come with being my heir, in fact, any sign of weakness from you and you might find yourself out of this family like your useless twin." With that, she turned and walked briskly away, closing the door behind her.


She didn't need her grandmother's generous gift of one night to process her emotions. The tears wouldn't come. She felt a cold resolve. She would be the heir of the Dutch family, and then she would finally be the puppeteer instead of the puppet. She just needed to last a few more years. With a newfound confidence, she put on a fresh black dress and re-entered the party, prepared to let go of the past.