She woke up, ink spreading through fabric, swallowing up the delicate silk forget-me-not petals that lay so innocently on the front of her dress. It took a moment for Courtney’s sleepy head to focus on Blair and Ashlyn’s bewildered wide eyes, beckoning her to get up.
A glance at her page that lay in a pool of black. Her work was lost.
“...Courtney...” Blair’s eyes flicked down to Courtney’s lap, where more ink was dribbling and transforming sunrise into midnight and peace into mourning.
How poetic… she thought.
“Courtney!” Ashlyn urged her to look up.
“Oh! Yes!” Courtney stood hastily, her chair toppling over as she bounded over to her wardrobe. As she changed into a clean gown, Courtney attempted to recall what she had written. If she was ever going to publish her own story, she would have to finish writing soon. The man who’d agreed to help her -- a friend’s brother -- would forget her in a year.
It hadn’t taken Courtney five years to realise she was forgettable. When she was only still learning to crawl, her mother had announced she was having another child. The family’s first set of twins, Delia and Edeline had forced Courtney to grow up confused about who was really her mother.
Perhaps this was why she was closest to Ashlyn and Blair, because they had never taken away from her time with her mother -- and they had given Courtney her only glimpse of what it was like to be the most important.
Yeah. Pretty cringey and bleugh, huh? Watch me regret this deeply. Oh, and the next part is worse.
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