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WHERE TWO PIRATES TALK

The chilly air crept passed the open windows, the red curtains pulling out of their metallic confines. Ada scanned the room again, distracting herself from the burden on her heart. The floors were dark brown, the familiar wooden smell mixing with that of the ocean. Two stools were pushed to the side, in front of a similar low wooden table. Two empty mugs were laid on it, the remnants of its contents staining the wooden surface with light pink foam.
A mirror stood at the opposite side, next to the door in which a wardrobe also sat to it's right. The red wood had scuff marks, the knob almost collapsing on itself. Ada sat on the bed, venturing to the mirror again. Her hair was long and straight tied up in a bun, her dark brown eyes were slightly curved up, different from her own droopy eyes. Her straight nose then sloped down to her strawberry pink lips, all housed in a round face. So unlike her own.
Her heart ached, pain shifting within her, jolting at how much she missed the other girls and her former life. Dark spots ringed her vision again. She didn't even know how many days would have passed in her own world. Her blood curdled as she looked down at her hands, they were small but scarred. Calloused unlike her former hostage's, she could almost see the blood stains of the past few days. Red marks that stained her hands in jagged patterns.
Her breath quickened as screams from the people she had left for dead resurrected. Her world spun. Her turmoil arose, her body quaking. She had trained all her life for this, trained to know how to weather the portal side effects, effeciently be able to use the hostage's memories and skills, put the conscious of the hostage to sleep and so much more. But she had never trained to kill, guilt sizzled within her as she groped her hair.
Those people's lives were a fantasy.
She tried to console herself. Her eyes stung, her throat clogging. Even she had a problem with believing that. With each reality she stepped in, each person seemed more real than the last. People allowed to die because of her cowardice. The princesses whom had only sought out to help their friend had their lives cut short. Snow White would still have to suffer in...
The chilly air crept passed the open windows, the red curtains pulling out of their metallic confines. Ada scanned the room again, distracting herself from the burden on her heart. The floors were dark brown, the familiar wooden smell mixing with that of the ocean. Two stools were pushed to the side, in front of a similar low wooden table. Two empty mugs were laid on it, the remnants of its contents staining the wooden surface with light pink foam.
A mirror stood at the opposite side, next to the door in which a wardrobe also sat to it's right. The red wood had scuff marks, the knob almost collapsing on itself. Ada sat on the bed, venturing to the mirror again. Her hair was long and straight tied up in a bun, her dark brown eyes were slightly curved up, different from her own droopy eyes. Her straight nose then sloped down to her strawberry pink lips, all housed in a round face. So unlike her own.
Her heart ached, pain shifting within her, jolting at how much she missed the other girls and her former life. Dark spots ringed her vision again. She didn't even know how many days would have passed in her own world. Her blood curdled as she looked down at her hands, they were small but scarred. Calloused unlike her former hostage's, she could almost see the blood stains of the past few days. Red marks that stained her hands in jagged patterns.
Her breath quickened as screams from the people she had left for dead resurrected. Her world spun. Her turmoil arose, her body quaking. She had trained all her life for this, trained to know how to weather the portal side effects, effeciently be able to use the hostage's memories and skills, put the conscious of the hostage to sleep and so much more. But she had never trained to kill, guilt sizzled within her as she groped her hair.
Those people's lives were a fantasy.
She tried to console herself. Her eyes stung, her throat clogging. Even she had a problem with believing that. With each reality she stepped in, each person seemed more real than the last. People allowed to die because of her cowardice. The princesses whom had only sought out to help their friend had their lives cut short. Snow White would still have to suffer in...
