Ursula Libertine | District 4 [done]

Why the sudden hesitation, my friend? Oh, you've heard of me before, you say? What do those mean people say about me? Tricks up my sleeves? Why, no. Even if I did have such foolish tricks up my sleeves, why does everyone always come back to me in times of trouble, still? Oh, they're all drawn to my help like moths to a bright light. They simply need me for their own survival. And, trust me when I say this honey, you need me right now, too. Besides, don't you understand the way I work? I've got absolutely nothing to hide.

Trust me.

Oh, but I do believe that we've yet to discuss the subject of payment.

I'm not asking for much. Just a token, really, a trifle. Something to simply remind me that my acts of charity don't go unnoticed, that they're not acted in vain. Logical, isn't it? In order for me to help you, you have to give me something back. After all, you can't just get something for nothing.

Maybe I'd like a simple head piece to decorate my pale, blonde locks. Or, perhaps, even a tiny comb to brush out the knots that tangle themselves in my long hair. Or, if you decide you'd like to offer me simple clothing, make sure to find the right size. Large sweaters usually hang off of my skeletal body with a ghostly effect, and small shirts cling to my rib cage and makes me appear more lanky than I already am - and we wouldn't want that, now would we? Don't think about giving me make up for the deal, my pale skin and naked green irises serve me well as is. However, jewelry would go nicely around my skinny neck, or slender fingers. Preferably of a gold color, don't forget that. Maybe even new shoes, so I won't feel as heavy as usual when I take the blame for your mistakes.

I'm not asking for much, am I?

Good. That's what I thought.

I still remember the day it all began.

Who was it that broke mom's priceless pearl necklace, again? Maybe Nessie, with her constantly shaking and fidgeting of hands. Or Kelpie, while practicing one new move he learned during training that day. Whoever it was, they knocked down mom's jewelry box, and it crashed to the floor with a sickening clunk. The pearls crashed to the stone floors, pieces of the white substance scattering all around the room. Although I don't remember the face of the criminal, I can still recall the fear that shook in their voice. "Mom's going to kill me." And then, the idea occurred to me, sprang up inside of me like the first dandelion breaking through snow after a harsh winter. "She can kill me instead of you, if you want."

Mom beat me to a pulp that night, but I went to sleep without a single tear shed. I lay in bed recalling the day's events, my sibling agreeing to serve me for a week as long as the truth was never revealed, my voice never faltering in front of my mother when taking the blame, the sharp blows I received from my mother's unforgiving hands, and the strength I possessed in those otherwise terrifying moments. I had nothing to fear for, anyway. A week's worth of bossing around my sibling was worth a few smacks.

From that day on, a new Ursula was born.

Oh, but I suppose I should give you an early warning, my friend. In case you tragically decide to go back on your word. Let me tell you a story.

It was one of my school mates, Lorraine. Have you heard of her before? No? I wouldn't think so, she hardly speaks to anyone nowadays. The poor thing. Well, I made a deal with her, you see. She'd accidentally broken her little sister's golden charm bracelet and asked me if I could tell her sister that I did it, instead of her. "Of course, of course I'll do it." I told her reassuringly. "For a price." It was an inexpensive price, really, almost nothing. This is what happens when I give something and get nothing.

NORMAL // CCBBAA
EMPHASIS // BB9999
THOUGHTS // 887766
SPEECH // EEDDDD
HEADINGS // 663344 and EEDDCC