Night time was the time of day that everyone looked forward to. For some it's because of the drop in temperature as the sun bade farewell to one side of the earth to say hello to the other. Perhaps, it's due to the pull of dreams and needed rest associated with the dark skies and twinkling stars. For whatever reason, night more often than not was regarded as a period of quietude while the world whisked away to the depths of slumber. All were trapped in dreamland, except for a particular red-head who nervously locked the door of her bedroom and readied for an adventure.
Hugging her tattered Chanel denim jacket closer, Prixy hesitantly climbed the glass sliding window of her room. The evening air was cool to the skin but then the sight of the silvery moon made her shudder. A night owl by nature, the darkness bathed in the faint glow of the full moon had always been a spectacle for her.
It's like a temptress whispering to follow her anywhere. All those times the temptress tried to lure her, she always found the will to deny it, but not tonight. She'd willingly trod the route it led her to. "This is a good sign," she mused. "Give me luck dear moon," a wish with the hope that if spirits were true, the moon's spirit would bless her as she embarked on an escapade.
Never religious nor an atheist, Prixy followed none but noticed that she's always drawn to the moon. It gave her calmness when in rage, clarity when things were vague, and a sense of belonging when lost. Oftentimes too, she pretended to be the child of the moon whether it was a Vampire, Wiccan or Werewolf. These beings fascinated her albeit she knew they were myths. She'd love to meet at least one in this lifetime, but that'd be wishful thinking. She also dreamed to be one of them, except that dream needed to be thrown away in her reality. Still, she strongly believed that she unknowingly could be any of them because it made more sense as to why the moon affected her that way. “I want to be a hybrid though. What do you think moon?”
As if the moon understood her, its silvery light enveloped her as she braved a glimpse below to gauge the distance between the window and the ground. It's not a long drop but for the 20 years of her life, this was the first attempt to secretly escape from her bodyguards. With bated breath, she willed stubbornness to pump courage into her veins. "You can do this Prixy, for a chance to live."
Regrets flooded her hesitant mind while she bended down to secure the laces of her boots. Being the only heiress and main model of Seduzione Couture, her life had been pampered and sheltered more than necessary. Any commoner would give anything to be her, yet she'd bargain all she had for one chance to experience theirs.
Women envied her for money, beauty, and everything that she had. Meanwhile, rich and famous men coveted her and her social status. Each of them vying to be her chosen husband in the future but none truly cared about her. All they saw was the glittering stage set to showcase her perfect existence.
Blessed with a voluptuous body and a beautiful face, money and fame, name it and she had it. However, money couldn't buy everything and those it couldn't were what she craved the most. Her life was a script meticulously written and proofed by her parents, with her as the actress hired to do their bidding. If she was to summarize the plot of her life story, it didn't have any. Instead, it's an outlined documentation of a laboratory experiment with her as the lab rat.
15 years ago, a car accident caused the untimely death of her elder brother. On that fateful day, she was robbed of the chance to live and that one person who loved her unconditionally. The burden of inheriting the family business weighed her down like an anchor and drowned her in misery from there on.
Stripped of her independence and personality, she obediently succumbed to her parents' whims and orders. Blind to her unvoiced protests, she wholeheartedly embraced her prison and dictators without a word. Invisible diamond decked chains kept her inside a golden cage for the world to see and envy. Altogether, she was a pretty bird on display whereas the hands that choked her remained firm on its grip.
Life became a big pretense for her until she became a lie herself. Every day, she lost herself to a fabricated Priscilla Blair. That Priscilla was a mask that lived and breathed and forcefully slapped into her face to guise what her parents thought were unacceptable imperfections. They created a version of her who was an embodiment of either the good and perfect daughter who everyone loved or of the posh and sophisticated heiress worth a million dollars or more. That mask turned into her skin and now she couldn't take it off without bleeding. It became her essence while the real Priscilla ceased to exist except during moments that she's alone to herself.
None in the world knew the girl who hesitated to jump from a window for a taste of freedom. Dressed as a commoner in a simple black cropped top, ripped jeans, denim jacket and black combat boots, she crouched on top of the window base getting ready for the big leap.
There were no traces of the masked Priscilla Blair rather there stood the bare shell of who she really was. Tonight however, that'd be changed, for she would be resurrected from the dead for the sake of her sanity. Adamant on being her true self this evening, she tied her hair in a messy bun and in replacement to contact lenses; round eyeglasses aided her sense of sight.
Black studs decorated her ears as substitute for gems. She didn't want any of those glitters and gold that reminded her of her desolation. Determined to be rebellious for once and live as she wanted she smiled to the moon for support. A sense of eerie calm coursed through her as she closed her eyes and took the plunge.
Comparable to a cat, she landed soundlessly albeit ungracefully. Thankful to the heavens for the combat boots she wore, the soft soil where she landed conveniently molded around its soles to aid the impact. She was glad to have successfully snuck it in the mansion in spite of her mom's biased disgust for it. She strongly refused to let her near one or even allowed it inside their home.
The boots got stuck so she eventually had to pull each leg up while cursing the wind. After several loosened hair curls and swear words later, she grabbed her pouch and checked her phone. It only had one unread SMS which she hurriedly read. Mila, her personal maid and best friend messaged her that she's already in the back entrance flirting with the guard on duty.
“I'm so close”, she giggled to herself. She fixed her hair which still ended up messy anyway. Excitement was evident not only on her face but all over her body. Her heart thumped like a rabbit trying to get out of a cage and she could almost taste freedom in her tongue. All that's needed now was for the oblivious guard on duty to fall into Mila's flirting skills and do anything she asked him to. Stealthily, she trotted towards the back gate armed with nothing but pure grit and a three-month long plan being soundlessly recalled in her mind.
The cackle of laughter and hushed voices prompted her to hide behind the bushes. From a distance, she could outline her pink Vespa Primavera scooter hidden behind an unknown tree, just beyond the entry. "The gate is within reach Prixy, bear with it a little bit more." Now she'd wait for Mila to clear the path for her. It's uncomfortable to be crouched in between leaves, twigs and semi-moist earth but to hell with that. The little discomfort was nothing compared to the reward she'd get once this went as intended.
Three months ago, she remembered Mila agreeing that the best birthday gift for her would be a chance to experience life outside the mansion. They both giggled while browsing through nightclubs where they'd go to get wasted. One caught their attention since it's far enough from the mansion and it didn't look cheap or sleazy.
In fact, it oddly reminded her of vampires and werewolves. “It looks like a place where I can find one." The child in her squealed at the idea. Aware that it's really impossible, she should simply leave their actuality to the world inside books but no! Logic ceased to exist when it came to her unexplainable fascination with these beings.
"Red's Fangs, who the hell would name a bar with that?" she asked her maid. Mila rolled her eyes back then and lightly tapped her cheeks. "Dear Prixy! Who cares about stupid club names? What matters is getting wasted or getting you to experience the real world"
Those words made her blush because she's aware of what she had been missing and the insinuation behind Mila's words. She'd be a hypocrite to say she wasn't curious to do so. Her knowledge about what's out there was from books or what she'd seen from movies. She aimed to change her ignorance of the dominion beyond her prison before she turned 21. She yearned to let her life begin by then.
"This is it Prix, the fruition." She internally screamed as she waited a bit more. "I waited all my life for this, just a few more minutes won't be too much."