Amelia Laws {D12}
Oct 31, 2017 15:37:37 GMT -5
Post by Cameo {RIP Charlie} on Oct 31, 2017 15:37:37 GMT -5
Amelia Laws
District Twelve
Age Twelve
Female
It was purely a mere dress-up tiara. Thick plastic, fake gems, cheap material all around - and a decent price to match it. Surely her Mother would agree to purchasing it after a few extra chores were completed, and if Amelia’s good behavior continued to thrive as it often does. But the facade crown fit upon her youthful head so pristinely. The golden shine of it matched her long golden hair, the blue gems matched her gleaming blue eyes. A smile like none other spread across her chubby, innocent cheeks simply because of the ornament. She couldn’t take it off, she wouldn’t. She wanted it, and she wanted it now. The tiara illustrated her as the princess she always has been.
With the accessory unmoved from her head, she strolls around the shop casually. Other trinkets for the youth to play with clutter every shelf in an organized fashion; divine wooden toys carved by diligent hands, stuffed animals stitched by steady fingers, and so on. Only the rare wealthy class children could afford to splurge on such a craft - unless a rare event brought in a starving family for a special event. Hunger had never hollowed the stomach of Amelia. But with an array of adopted siblings at home, it wasn’t often that her parents could spoil her as she prefers. With a little bit of patience, however, the tiara would be gifted to her though… excepted that she despised the idea of waiting. Patience had never been a talent of hers.
The moment that the Clerk’s eyes were diverted to a distraction, she maneuvered to the exit. “Hold it little one, you didn’t pay for that!” Apparently the Clerk’s attention wasn’t as captured as she’d hope - as he calls for her to halt, with her body half through the shop’s door. But she doesn’t listen, she also hates listening. In seconds she’s running down the street by town square, faster then she ever had before.
Adrenalin consumes every like of her interior. The fear of getting caught pulses through each vein streaming through her body. Her lungs burn within the desperation to escape at such a speed. Muscles tingle in an anxious manner. A light headed sensation flutters through her head. And she discovers her fond taste for all of this. Steps continue to slam a patter down the road’s path. Her feet only abruptly slow the moment the haven of home surrounds her - and a new concern is felt. Will someone notice the impish actions that’s evidently upon her features? Will her mom & dad be furious with her? Will one of her countless of siblings tattle to them? Frightened eyes stare at the chaos of numerous teenagers scurrying about the halls, yet all are too concerned with their own issues to even notice the youngster.
Still her chest rapidly extends and contracts in attempt to collect her breath, as she steadies herself with her back against the house’s side door. The rumble of the home strives on despite her feeling of time standing still. Frantically she removes the tiara from the tangle of her hair; cradling the crown within her palms, as if hiding the flashing sign upon it that says she stole such an item. Without a single eye suspicious of her, she clampers up the stairs to her bedroom.
Different familiar faces pass her amongst the vast home they all reside in. Varies heights tower them all at different lengths, while she primarily lingers greatly below the majority. Pure innocence also separates her attributes from them, as the most elder her by a few years. Together the main of them share the range of reaping age, while still her exterior contains her back in such a young appeal. Often stolen makeup paints her face in a attempt to add years to her complexion, though it scarcely achieves her goal. Certainly she enjoys standing out from the crowd, while in the manner of her baby face she doesn't appreciate it as much.
Once within the seclusion of her room, she graces the top of her head with the accessory of the tiara again. And with the security of silence echoing from the hall outside, she removes her secret box from beneath the crevice of below her bed. Doodles and glitter now decorate the cardboard container, that was before plain as can be when her greedy fingertips first found it. Varies rings, necklaces, watches, and jewels flood the box with occupation - all captured by her grip or another’s. It wasn’t her crave that first littered it with thieving rewards, but that of her Brother’s… Mitchell.
Was he absorbed with such a luscious sensation after he successfully completed a robbery as well? Every time her broad eyes stare upon this box he once owned, when a new item is placed into the collection, she’s graced with his presence as though he never left. Warmth flutters her heart like the family was still whole. When he was still around his thieving ways weren’t known by Amelia, though she still managed to follow in his footsteps. And now it’s as though she shares a memory of being his partner in crime. Would she have been, if he were never taken? It’s a question that fills her curiosity often, though she’ll never receive an answer to her wonder.
Just like many girls her age, there’s a desire to be older - while still sweet intentions maintain her innocence. Nearly all the rings, Mitchell stole within his deceiving knack, are far too large to shape the frame of Amelia’s petite fingers; though still she slips the smaller pieces on despite, just as she often does. With one of the handful of hand-me-downs dresses already attiring her immature form, she swirls around her room in a joyful dance. From earliest memories she’s needed an abundance of attention. But within the art of Mitchell’s craft, she’s learned how to satisfy, at least part of, that hunger herself.
