aurora strayed, district seven | finished, cb

Rumors will have you believe that a witch lives at the end of 32 Starling Lane. Or, simply, that the old trail itself is haunted by the spirit of a wailing woman. Some will even tell you that there's an abandoned radioactive plant at the end of the path; a mutt's den, a river with a wicked undercurrent, places meant to be avoided.

In a beautiful chateau, cradled by wildflowers and swaying willows on all sides, the Strayed household is not what it seems. This far out in the woods, it's easy to allow one's imagination to run free. But there are no witches here, nor any beasts. Only a woman who learned a long time ago the power of her beauty — and the circumstances of her fragile, easily paranoid mind. Those who know of Chandra the courtesan know that she is a woodland goddess in her own right.

But myths are seldom kind, and the children of gods rarely go on to have happy tales. Imagine being the daughter of a woman who sells her company to the highest bidder; growing up inside a home where each day, new and familiar faces visit, but they are always gone by dawn. Aurora stopped giving a damn about hiding once her brother was born. Often, she would wonder if she were a mistake, a ghost her mother could not exorcise from the premises.

Then she realized that she has no say in any of this, and neither does Lucien — their mother wants to stay in the forest, and so it is. She wants to invite strangers into her bedroom, to entertain wealthy men with talents she cannot bring herself to share with the sunlight, and she does so. The music echoes through the hallway, she makes a habit of sitting in plain sight as the men are trying to exit, glaring daggers.

Nothing here belongs to her / but who else has ownership of it?

Aurora is many things, but she is no fool. All that lives at the end of 32 Starling Lane is a tragedy.