Ranma 1/2: "If anda Were Gay"

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The seterusnya morning I found myself getting up earlier. I usually slept until noon if the nightmares were kept at bay. I clambered into an old selendang, shawl and slippers and attempted to sit sejak the api, kebakaran to read. But there I was, instead, staring out the window into the mist. The entrance of the driveway was consumed entirely sejak the fog. For once, the trees were only quivering slightly in the wind, and the window never quite shut completely, so the draft was horribly icy. When Sebastian finally appeared out of the gray cloud, a feeling not exactly described as relief rested in my head. A familiar face,...

It's times like these when anda wonder where people figured the idea that an 11 tahun old girl would murder her own parents in their family church during mid-construction.
Maybe thats why I'm so bitter.
The building of the Basilica was halted until further notice. The Middleford's were notified of this demise on my part and hesitantly offered a hand, only to withdrawal it in the end. Such tentative plans forced my person into a bit of a blurry spiral, only for the tail to land me right back at that place; my own home.
An 11 tahun old living on her own.
Oh, one can only imagine the gossip.
Death spread...

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Weeks past, and no one knew the whereabouts of the young Phantomhive. They all figured his tiny body had been converted to ash.
Three graves were furnished on the plot. Two accompanied sejak large, charred bodies 6 feet under, and a small headstone with nothing but dirt as it's occupant.
Only I knew what had really happened.
That my poor betrothed was stolen away.
That he was taken this way and that, alone.
Most likely Frozen in his nightshirt, bound and raped.
On the hari of the funeral, I wore the darkest dress I owned, which was a deep blue. It was a bit on the long side with a black bow on the...

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That night, I watched the full moon from my window, Frozen in the unheated utama on the floor. My katil called for me at the other side of the room, but I ignored it. My mother soon came in wearing a long bulu coat, pristine white and barely reaching her ankles. She was going out.
"To bed." she croaked. I wobbled up and crawled under the sheets as she pursed her red lips and shut the door.

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For shopping, my mother and I were in the jalan markets of London early the seterusnya morning. Early snow had come. Attire had changed; not in thin dresses but in heavy coats, the Brits chatted amongst themselves,...