Lavender Scented Paths

P.O.V = Point of view from any outsider's perspective: 

The cobbled lanes swarm with people who blanket the narrow streets in layers of beige. The people in their tweed jackets with little clocks hanging out their little pockets or their frilly and puffed blouses with their fluted skirts. The people with their noses held high and their petite waists, their hair held back perfectly. All these people judging everyone with their snake like eyes in their renowned frames of life. All these people puffing or lighting up their long tobacco filled cigarettes with their brass lighters. These people litter the lanes to take a glance at all the little stalls of knickknacks. The ‘cookie cutter’ look the lot of them have. 

P.O.V = point of view from Anastasia 

I stroll the paths of Heavens bury. The people here are much snottier than the people of my last village. These people steal second glances at my undistinguished look, with my sun kissed sandy hair tussled with flowers hanging by the thread and falling loosely at my shoulders. I tuck a strand of it behind my ear with a flower. My lavender-stained frock popping out from the crowd and little daisy embroidered hand purse. With my stubbed toes on bare feet poking out of the hem of my skirt and gliding along the path in longs strides or glides as you will. I would be seen as obscure with my knee-high skirt and threads falling loose. People whisper behind their gloved dainty hands behind me, I pretend to not hear it and I carry on gliding from stall to stall.  

One stall has a small fragile necklace with intricate detail of intertwined bits of what seems to be a flower to fall at just above the collarbone. I pocket it quickly sliding it from my fingers into my long-puffed sleeves which are in due for a few stitches near the hemline. No one notices me pickpocketing this for they are all too scared to stare for too long at the girl with the strange words.  

I head towards the direction of Heavensbury village square to meet with Mother and the twins. Yet I seem to have lost the way that I arrived, so I tap the shoulder of the closest passerby to have them study my look and then to turn their head in a fashion to impose the disgust they think of me and walk off.  

I try again yet I am once again met with the look of complete disgust. I give up and set off in the direction I think is towards the village square. My feet tapping a song into the cobbled paths. A few doves fly out from sitting on the perch of a brick framed window. I notice the cause of this being a frustrated ma’am shouting at someone within the shop's walls.  

Intrigued by the shouting I walk through the old oak door letting curiosity get the best of me. I wander the shop selling soaps and herbs of all things, creating an aroma giving off the feeling of nostalgia from when I once was a little girl without judgmental people crowding her inside and out.  

I step around the wide round wooden table set in the middle of the room and catch a glimpse of the victim to this lady's cuss words to find a boy wearing clothes too big for his figure with a vest unbuttoned over his white blouse and a top hat held at his chest over his heart with worry laced in his voice. He seemed to be around the same age as me but with eyes that hold a larger bucket of wisdom than most.  

And just like the person I am I knock over a stool with stacks of lip enhancer stacked neatly to fall at my feet. 

The lady begins to shout something incomprehensible; these startles me so much that I drop to my hands faster than I would have without her instantaneous prompt of anger. 

I scramble to the ground kneeling over to retrieve all the lip enhancer jars. I let my daisy bag purse fall to the floor so I can grab more things. A blush crawls up my neck to my cheeks and clouds my vision to thoughts of how clumsy could I have been. My hands racing across the floor in big swoops reaching for every last jar. I gather the jars in my skirt with one hand holding it like a basket whilst the other picks up the stool. 

My eyes still searching the ground for any loose jars and I see someone's hand reach the jar just out of reach. I cannot dare to look up to see the disappointment in the eyes of this person. this person who I can only assume it is the boy, for no one else has entered the shop yet and the lady would not have dared bend over to help someone as poorly dressed as I. The hands curling around the jar then placing it on the just picked up stool. I look up to see the person attached to the hands, and no surprise there, but it was the boy. His big round amethyst eyes like a child watching fire to a match, studying which way the light would flicker next.  

I stand abruptly with my hand in a fist holding my skirt halfway up my thigh and I quickly place all the little jars of honey yellow substance back onto the stool. Whole face burning red.  

I take one last glimpse at the boy with the bright amethyst eyes, and stumble out the shop, my bare feet hitting the cobblestone along the way.  

Hearing a shout, most likely the lady, from the same shop behind me gives me a boost in my speed to just run. And run till my heart gives out. The shouting from before becomes louder as if they chased me, so I know it could not be the lady. Perhaps it was the guy from the stall, who I stole the necklace from? Well, whoever it is I do not want them to catch me. 

I slide down a rail next to some stone steps then run. I turn a sharp corner and crash into some prim and proper man, his mouth turning downwards in revulsion.  

I quickly step back and run towards the fence looming ahead of me. I jump it yet snag a piece of my dress on a nail. I leave it to tear and I hop over to the other side of the fence to discover a wildly thick forest. 

I turn back one last time to see the guy from earlier, face red with heat and dripping with sweat. All my running has obviously payed off. His body heaves from exhaustion with his hands on his knees catching some air. Before he can say or do anything, run off with a single glance back to see my little daisy bag purse hanging from his delicate fingers. I stop abruptly. My eyes showing off confusion kind of like a deer in headlights. He steps forwards, his mouth opens agape as if to say something. But I run off before he says something he’ll regret.  

And now I am lost in a sea of green foliage.