MellisaSlytherin

"Hey, look over here." She called, poking her head over the side of the cliff. I hesitated, because I had an immense fear of heights. This wasn't exactly my choice location to be at the moment, but she had insisted. This 'she' I'm talking about would be my friend. More to the point, we're best friends. Her name is Elizabeth, and my name is Mellisa. We met in third grade and were instantly friends. She's the daring, suave one. I'm the good-at-fighting and timid one. We make a pretty good team. See, the reason we're on a cliff, is because Elizabeth had told me about this great place near the cliff to sit and have a picnic. Well, I, of course,

Notes: This takes place in medieval times, very, very slight mature content, but not enough to put on the filter. Part one: Bought How many times I had heard the word. Useful. Always to someone, always. Useful. The provocative smiles, wanting me to fight against them, wanting me to lash out in anger and fear. Only to be held back. Always. Useful. Hardly a day went by when I didn't hear the words. Whether it was from the man who kept me locked cruelly in a cage far too small for my body or by the passers by, who sometimes poked and prodded me in places that I would not stand being poked and prodded in. Sometimes I would growl, baring m

I pulled at the chains around my wrists, clawing at the bars when the man's face lowered to look at me. "Feisty." He said, as if making a note. "You'll regret it." My watcher said, shaking his head and walking away. Damned right. "Elizabeth." The man muttered, dropping the keys into the small child's hand. The girl's eyes grew wide, staring at my cage with fright. "Get to it, girl." The man ordered, cuffing her gently over the head. The elf, Elizabeth, if I were to guess, stepped towards my cage. With shaking hands she put the key into the door of my cage and turned it. The door creaked slowly open and I lunged at her, nearly choking mysel

"Very nice place." I muttered, tilting my head to one side. There was a shape in one of the windows that had caught my attention. What they were doing was obvious, but I could not see who. The man in front of me led our little parade into his mansion, the doors opened and two small maids rushed forward, one taking his cloak, revealing the man's fine blue tunic and black trousers, and the other taking his black leather gloves. They curtsied and stepped aside, their medium length black dresses moving with them, the frills moving as if they had a mind of their own. Then, the man in front of me did something comepletely unexpected. He started u