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Chapter 42: Path of hydrangeas
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Curse Of Wine & Belladonna Chapter 43: It was a very funny house
Artemisia felt battered. But what bothered her wasn't that her mother told her it was a mistake that the girl was alive. No. Something deep in her chest said that the woman was right, that life was a greater gift to her that she should receive. Accompanying that I see a memory, something a little painful, but it was real. As much as the girl tried to understand what she was told that other memory was an unknown she couldn't decipher. But the girl couldn't worry about it, not when her mother could convince everyone that her daughter was going crazy, which Artemisia didn't doubt, and that it would be necessary to take her to a place that was well cared for. Artemisia knew her mother had never liked her, but the idea of the woman interning her without more or less, at least for her, was a little too crude. Anyway, if the girl questioned whether or not people were going to make their mistakes, she would go crazy a lot faster than she was starting to get used to. Another memory sto
Curse Of Wine & Belladonna Chapter 44: Served?
She did not remember falling asleep, let alone the moment she woke up. It seemed that her day had started with breakfast, at a somewhat long table with five chairs, beautiful fruit and pasta the height of an expensive restaurant. As the second Artemisia passed, she was able to understand well who was at the table and where they were. At both ends were her fathers, at the first, near the window, was the mother, at the second, near the door, was the father. It was something like an ancient tradition that fell on families. The first end, that of the window, was the place of the mother, since the dreams of the women and the connection with the night opened the eyes of the people of the house. At the end near the door was the father, since he had more connection with the day, the adventure under the sunlight, and that opened the doors of life. It was a bit confusing, but Artemisia loved some traditions and this one was in the same way. Already in the other chairs of the table, under t
Curse Of Wine & Belladonna Chapter 45: Navy blue book
Artemisia was tired of being unhappy in that mansion. She was beginning to wonder if it was worth leaving that place, fleeing away from Gaul and that family like a thorn bush. She wanted to be able to live at least once in her life. But at the same time as she thought that, the young woman sank into the covers and duvets of the bed, asking herself if she should do something to change that miserable existence. It hadn't. So, Artemisia decided to read the books she had picked up in the library. The book the young woman decided to read was the navy blue cover. It was still weird to hold that book, the "shadows" of aquatic reflections were a little hard to understand, it reminded her of all that seasonal feeling from the day before. The young woman stopped to think a little about it, about that supposed "day before". She forced her own mind, as if squeezing an orange, just to know how the previous day had ended, but she had no answer. Nothing. There was just nothing. The only real
Curse Of Wine & Belladonna Chapter 46: Absinthe child
"Do you understand what I meant by this dear memory album of ours, sister?" Myrtle asked by running her finger over the leather cover of the album. Artemisia just sighed, trying to undo that painful knot that was forming inside her. It was as if the veins of the heart were twisting at such sadness. "No, sister..." She felt like sitting down, but just kept standing. No matter what impact would be played against the young woman, falling was useless. "You're so insignificant to our parents, especially Mom. You don't even have a name of one of our grandmothers, or our dear aunt who cared for Dad when Grandma died." The woman stood up like a queen, majestically in that damn sky blue dress. "There's no picture of you, there's no notes on how you grew up happy and healthy. It doesn't." If the young woman could throw herself out of the window, she would. "That doesn't mean anything." Artemisia said with the shred of desire she had left to continue that conversation. "Exactly! You me
Curse Of Wine & Belladonna Chapter 47: Voices
Time passed without Artemisia noticing. The world outside her room seemed to be continued to live as fast as it normally would. When the young woman decided, she was going to go out for a walk, the mansion looked like somewhere else. The windows were closed and almost all with the curtains covering them, the luminosity coming from the daylight was dimmer and a little grayish. The icy breeze that slammed into the girl's body was enough for her to come back and put a coat over her dress. As she descended the stairs, Artemisia noticed the noise of life in the mansion. On the third floor, it was difficult to see the movement of the employees and even their parents or sisters. In parts it was scary to be alone there, but most of the time the girl felt relieved not to be tormented several times a day, just when the employees went to clean that floor. There was also no way Artemisia could be scared to be alone on the third floor since that was her fourth since ... Since a long time. The
Curse Of Wine & Belladonna Chapter 48: Once upon a time
Artemisia seemed to be in an audience, sitting in the middle of an empty theater. Decorated with the most beautiful shade of blue, silver and water green all over the place. Some parts were painted dark blue, there were grayish white curtains, with silver ropes tying them. The seats were soft and in a shade so green that could easily mistake it for black. All that theater she beautiful. The young woman wasn't too far from the stage, she would have a perfect view of where she was. She also noticed that the stage itself was different from the other theaters the girl had ever been to. It wasn't a big enough space to fit a cast, even if the curtains were closed it was easy to see. There wasn't much space there, there was no way for a cast to perform on that stage. "There are many things we never know, insolent child, there are stories that hearing them is an extreme privilege. You seek these stories, you are after understanding to know something that does not suit you." The thing
Curse Of Wine & Belladonna Chapter 49: Helebore
She could feel everything she ate, wanting to come back. The images were directed several times at the two dead women, in active decomposition, looking deep into her eyes. That was enough for her to cry tiredly. Artemisia was already tired of crying, but that was the only way her body could express herself in the face of all that horror. "The truth hurts, apparently." The thing said, laughing at the deplorable state of Artemisia. That just her off more. "What makes you think you can discover the story without consequence? There's no way. It is part of your life to suffer. Poor useless humans." The young woman felt her body being caressed by that thing; it made the disgust intensify. The fact that she couldn't move made it worse. She tried her best not to express that she was still afraid of it, especially when that thing took shape again in front of the girl. Those eyes, that look, she felt like she was going to throw up just by looking at it.
Curse Of Wine & Belladonna Chapter 50: Kindness
She had a vague memory, wich was a little weak, but it was precious like diamonds or jades. The memory the young woman had was of being in a garden, full of yellow flowers like the sun itself. It was beautiful. There was also a cat, black as night, playing through the flowers as if it were a bee. That was the cutest scene she'd ever seen in her entire life. The smile that was born on her lips was so sincere that the young woman wondered when it had been the last time. A voice, beautiful but not remembering what it was like, spoke to her. The words were lost over time, but the young woman didn't care, the voice that spoke to her reminded her of the girl from a summer day, by a river, watching life run differently from hers. It wasn't an annoying, bright summer, it was a beautiful season she was happy to live in. In memory, there was a man standing next to her, looking at the young woman with a look as warm as the season. It was a demon, she
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