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Velvet Bauldevarez

A gentle tear rolls down her delicate porcelain cheek. A soft pink tongue darts out of her mouth to catch it before it falls. The salty wetness of her tear sends a tingling sensation down her spine, yet she shows no signs of moving. Nothing can make her move from her spot.

Her soft skin is pale under her dark burgundy hair, gently flowing down her cheeks. She sits so still against the stone wall, with her angel soft hands folded gently in her lap. She sits on her feet delicately tucked under her black silk gown. The gown itself is spread out around her in the shape of a blooming black blossom.

If it weren’t for her soft wet tears rolling down her cheek, one might think she were a statue. She sits so perfectly still, staring off at the ground past her left shoulder, that one can scarcely see her bosom move with each breath. To all that see her but do not know her, she is simply a lost little girl. But to those who do know her, she is simply Velvet, the lost little girl.

At the tender age of seventeen, puberty has long since had his way with our young Miss Velvet Bauldevarez. Her facial features are that of a young woman, and are here to stay. From her delicate red lips and soft nose, to her light brown eyes to her high cheek bones, this is how she is to be, to look. She sighs as she listens to the world around her.

The world around her moves on with its business, while she seems frozen in time. Unaffected by the harsh and cold wrath of age, she is beautiful. No one can touch her and she dares not touch any one. She dares not move from this spot. Everyday she comes to this spot, to wait. What exactly she is waiting for she herself does not know. But she waits none the less. She has been waiting her entire life.

Her brown eyes are blank and hollow as she stares off into space. There is something missing inside of her, but she doesn’t know what. The dress she wares bares no colors. It is just black and hollow like the whole in her young soul. She is waiting, but for what.