A perfect house, a perfect dress, and a perfect life- with a perfect soul.
She looks at the mirror noticing that there is a red scratch on her forehead, a little cut. It eases her longing. Then on her right shoulder, there is an unnoticed bruise purpling, darkening. It was fresh. However, it eases her longing sensation that settles so long in her heart-and soul. The time is being punctual, it keeps ticking causing her to glare as it annoys her train of thoughts. Her eyes went looking down elegantly at her brilliant wrist, caressing it with her tip finger and realize her silver Cartier is no longer fully silver. It is dirty and tainted as the between the edges of bands that bind the steel of straps, has a particularly liquid concentrated kind of stain that have dried out. It stuck there. The liquid was-when it is freshly lands on the straps, was some kind of red velvety. And now it is some kind of marooned. Red wine couldn’t be that too concentrated to be dried up as such, hence, it could be a red polish that miserably and carelessly, by accident, smeared her watch. Someone should care this mess, but she couldn’t care less.
Perfectly, she walks up the marble staircase. Wearing a yellow sheath dress, a silhouette that shouts her elegance and it suits her. Look at how the honey curve fits on her body, exposing her flawless knees and porcelain shin. The cold handrail is touching her palm, bringing her gently to the top.
She is in one of the upstairs’ room now. Notice how the room is coated with vanilla white shade. It is neat. She stares proudly at the mirror, looking at someone so perfect and perfect. She explores the vanity table and touches interesting belongings and pulls out some strings to admire. One pair of earrings had caught her attention before. They are a moon and sun designed with rhinestones that curiously shine. She pierces them to her earlobe; they swayed back and forth in seductive manner. While on that, the jewelry’ case is looking at an unknown persona, not the previous usual one- a stranger in disguise. Although this one is sleek figured, but it doesn’t recognize this. It doesn’t seem right.
There’s throbbing pain in her heart.
She picks up another rhinestoned jewel, an unwilling lariat necklace that harmonized flawlessly with the earring pair. It is now wrapping her excellent neck, making her chest looks fearless. The decorations have insinuated her goddess-like figure. They are ready.
After styling her golden blonde hair with a bun way, she looks to her left and right side of the face and feels excessively satisfied with the figure in the mirror. The velvet matte liquid matches is what she adores, she could take anyone now. Especially later during the dinner.
Suddenly a whisper come by right on her right ear. It was soft but obvious, a painful whisper. Agitating the hearer. She ignores it so coldly and walks out of the room.
It haunted her, taunting her, it tried. But does she care about it? Certainly, no. She walks down and lurks through the terribly glorious house. It seems unfamiliar to her now but sooner it will have to obey. She walks passing by a door, the door that will lead to the underground, a secret compartment. Has she been there? Of course not. But it was already unlocked. Then suddenly, wait, listen, listen. There was a simple faint knock.
A knock from the underground door. She is curious about the familiar knock. She thought that she could ignore it like how she usually does. From her back, she turns swiftly and sways her dangling moon and sun. Her fingers are playing with the swaying one of it. Then, she went on and touch the golden doorknob that belongs to the curious door. She realized there is something slippery on her palms. Its from the doorknob’s, isn’t it? For god sake, now she must clean again. How irritating it is to keep repeating. She hated repetitive sounds, repetitive begging, screaming, sighing, shaking. She feels it screams to her ears and just one ‘pang’ should do the ease.
She was hoping that she could leave earlier for the expected night event that awaits her, but this interruption seems to be finally disturbed her. She thought it was done. Guess she must do it again. The Nuisance.
Now, even the tapping sound of her own heels is hysterical. As she finally reaches beneath the floor, there is no one or anything there. It is cleaned and settled like before. Where was the knock coming from? Was it only her mind playing? Or, has she turned insane? It is silly for her. She is young, and it is too young to be insane, it is undoubtedly too young to be insane. No not yet.
She climbs back and proceeds to the living room, alone. She sits on the ivory sofa that is quite close to the fireplace then reach for her glass of whiskey placed on the side table. Well, this room needs a re-organization according to her will. Obviously, again, there is something or someone is whispering, now on her left ear. The goosebumps approach her. How amazing could this be, it is unpredicted for her to experience some goosebumps, except for two years ago. But of course, she has that one escaped. She now smiles in peace, pleases with the excitement given. As still as her heart is, it is worrisome that the master of the whisperer is strong and unwilling to give up. But to comfort her heart for assurance, she needs to make things clear and certain. She went to the kitchen. The sharp knives are neatly hanging still, so does the rest of the cutleries. She had it re-arrange to match her personal needs. There are no more messes as she had everything set. She opens the refrigerator, and there they are-divided equally, tangled and cut-cleaned. Maybe the whisper came from here, perhaps.
Aha! A worry for nothing! She closes the refrigerator and the bell rang. Finally, the only sound that she was hoping to hear tonight. It must have been her companion. She fixes her hair, making sure everything is perfect again. She wants to fill the refrigerator again tonight after all. It is going to be an extremely elegant cold night but right before reaching the coldness of the door handle she mutters neatly,
“Behave.” And walks out to the night.