Flashback

Rose Emily sat at the little vanity table in the corner of her bedroom next to a window that faced the beach.  She ran her perfectly manicured nails across the smooth ivory-white surface of the counter. She sat up straight in the matching ivory chair with plush plum velvet and leaned toward the mirror. Expensive, fashionable bottles of cosmetics lined the edges of her desk, all placed neatly in order. Narrowing her eyes, she scrutinized every centimeter of her skin, every pore, every potential blemish, every possible freckle. Heaving a sigh, she pulled the little extendible magnifying mirror close to her face, and began the ritual of poking and prodding at herself until there wasn’t a single hair out of place.

She delicately pulled out a pair of shiny silver tweezers with rose embellishment carved into the grips from the wooden drawer. Her hands curved around the ice-cold iron-wrought handle, and felt the freezing sensation creep into her body. She noticed a rather thick black hair around her eyelid, and fastened the metal instrument on them. After a fierce tug, the ugly blemish came out, and she returned to observing her face. Suddenly, she noticed a little droplet of blood welling from where the hair used to be. Frowning at this turn of events, she took a cotton puff and gently pressed it to her brow. As she wiped off the remnants of the blood, she was distinctly struck by a sense of déjà -vu, from back when she was many years younger…

***

A popular love song was playing through the speakers of her white stereo system as Rose looked at herself through a portable mirror standing on her desk. She had a wide array of makeup that she had just gotten from the local drugstore. She looked at her face and tried to smile cutely. No, not good enough! She shook her head, and began the task of learning how to become attractive… all for the sake of that boy. He’s so beautiful! She giggled happily just thinking of him. Rose was head over heels in love for the very first time at the young age of sixteen. She looked at her face, and didn’t really notice anything. She already had sharp features and a head of flowing blonde locks, but mostly just looked plain in her opinion. She stared into the mirror and suddenly her eyebrows seemed to be ridiculously thick, like creeping sand-colored caterpillars. She rummaged around her desk for a pair of tweezers, and began plucking. With the first jerking movement, her eyes filled up with tears. She looked through a watery scape to notice the crimson bead welling from where she plucked the hair. Wincing in pain, she grabbed a tissue and dabbed it away. Why must this be so painful? She breathed in and out. No, I must continue. And so, Rose sat painstakingly there for hours shaping and perfecting her face, all for this boy…

Weeks went by as he paid no attention to her. She blossomed from a bud into a full blown rose, yet he still paid her no attention. More time inched past, as she became more and more frustrated with this lack of development. He wouldn’t even glance at her. Other boys would look and stare, making her flustered and flattered at the same time. But he, the one who was most important to her, he, with the piercing green eyes, wouldn’t even give her the time of day, wouldn’t grace his soulful gaze on her. For some reason unknown to Rose Emily, the girls who used to give her supporting advice and company wouldn’t talk to her either anymore. They all shot her murderous glances as she walked through the door, ignoring her when she tried to talk to them.

Heartbroken and frustrated at the world, she threw herself toward the only people that actually gave her company. She smiled and flirted to keep the only human interaction she had, finding that they would bend over backwards to please her. She spun a spell of allurement pulling all those who came close to her deep within the recesses of a lovelorn abyss – all except the one boy she ever cared about, the boy with beautiful emerald eyes.

***

With the last swipe of her brush, she looked at herself. I am beautiful, she whispered at the enchanting figure staring back at her. I am capable, she thought. And I’ll prove it. Just watch me.

Put me in, Coach! - Rose Emily

Rose Emily stared outside from inside the empty hardwood-floor studio with floor to ceiling windows at the wildly raging waves, dressed in hot pink yoga pants and a simple black spaghetti strapped camisole that accentuated her curvy figure. The dark sky threatened to spill torrential floods, and the wind was already howling. She should’ve moved to California, rather than this little town of Carrillon Point. The view was supposed to be calming for her yoga classes, yet today they were nothing but worrisome. “I hope that tree won’t come crashing down.” “Did I bring in that sweatshirt I left outside?” “Oh no, my plants!” She could see those thoughts on the faces of her students, and it caused them to wobble and tumble over as if the tempest itself has pushed them down. At least this was better than the snow. People constantly cancelled their classes due to snow, and she was lonely without any human company, and her lovers were less likely to visit her when it was challenging to get to her studio.  

She pulled out her hair tie and let her golden waves cascade down her shoulders. She turned toward the mirrors and put on an alluring smile. It quickly disfigured into a smirk as she thought of all those unwitting and unfaithful men that fell into her trap. Oh how she loved it! With a simple dazzling smile or seductive pose, she could lure those weak males into darkness, into the realm of unfaithfulness. It didn’t matter that they don’t love her; she just wanted to fill their minds with guilt, to shatter their ideal and sunshine filled lives with their soul mates. They were even unaware of her purposefully dark intentions and blamed themselves, which of course made it all the more fun. It didn’t lessen the number of people who would sign up for her classes, since yoga was “all the rage” and she was the only instructor in the tiny town. She sneered contemptuously at their shallowness. She was in a position of power, and she loved every second. With a quick flip of her blonde hair, she sauntered into her house, waiting for the next class to start.

Assigned Blog Post #4 - Town details

There’s a quiet little alcove by the shore, hidden by the trees, where the water laps the soft white sand. Very few people in the town know about it, but those who do are not even aware that the others know. They all go there when they need a moment of peace, especially on starry nights to reflect on their lives.

A grassy meadow, smaller in proportion and very close to Makeout Meadow, where wildflowers grow freely and there’s very little trace of human interaction with the wild landscape. The slope of the hill is not too steep, and patches of soft, green grass spreads like a lazy yawn over the area.

A dock that has many white sailboats gleaming in the sunlight waits in lonely silence, with only the gull’s cries. The boats rock back and forth, as if eagerly awaiting the chance to go with their owners out to the seven seas to brave any (mild) weather that might be out there.

A small shop run by an elderly couple sells little knick-knacks carved from the wood of a native tree to the peninsula/island. The sweet smell of wood permeates the shop, mixed with the sharp tones of acrylic paint. The two are still just as in love as they were on their wedding day, and work companionably to bring art and joy to the community around them.

A giant tree towers near the town square. About seven adult men could hold hands and barely wrap their collective arms around this massive and ancient oak. The branches stretch out, old and gnarled, providing a great umbrella of shade to the townspeople. There was some mysterious aura around the tree that had a calming and soothing effect – many distressed people would come frequent the tree for calm and comfort. It was a great center of this little town that really allowed people to gravitate toward and feel unified with.

Potential names:

Wisteria

Hysteria

Mysteria

(OKAY I’M DONE)

Personally, I’m pretty good with Vodkaville.