Monday 28 March 2011

Writing Excercise - Lilith's House

The dark house at the edge of town would have loomed, if people had built their houses nearby. Across the street from the centuries-old farm house was a vacant lot, as was the lot beside it. It sat at the end of the out skirted street, battered and the yard overgrown. The white picket fence was peeling and half-broken, the gate hanging off its hinges. The garden had grown wild, brambles and wildflowers having taken over. The wide yard followed around to the back, where the fence faded into the forest. There were trees in the yard, an overgrown vegetable patch, and to the left of the back yard grew an enormous and ancient weeping willow.

The house had been built in the 1800s, when the surrounding area had all been farmland. In 1922, the land was subdivided, and filled with houses up until the edge of town - where the old house stood. It had, in total, thirty-three rooms. Thirty-three rooms, four bathrooms, one resident, and one cat.

That resident was a nineteen-year-old girl by the name of Lilith Twist.

Lilith didn’t leave very much, if at all. She just stayed inside, and cleaned, and baked pies.

Of the thirty-three rooms, four were bathrooms, twelve were bedrooms, three were drawing rooms, three were sitting rooms, two were lounge rooms, one laundry, one attic, one basement, a kitchen, two studies, and three were secret rooms. Of those thirty-three rooms, the kitchen, lounge rooms, two drawing rooms, one sitting room, laundry, studies and six bedrooms were unlocked. Lilith  never opened the locked rooms, and never spoke of them.

Her own bedroom was two doors ahead of the top of the stairs. It was sparsely decorated, with a large and soft white bed, a white net shroud over the pillow end. The tattered curtains were drawn, and grey light filtered in over the vanity. The speckled mirror held Lilith’s pale reflection while she brushed her hair. She wore a white nightdress, from neck to ankle and wrists, and her dark hair ended in thick curls. Beside the mirror was a slender vase with a single, dried rose in it. There was very little on the table surface, save for her combs and hairpins. On the two wood poles that held the mirror were draped bonnets and small hats and fascinators.

Getting up from her small stool, the little woman went to her large, carved wardrobe and took out her corset to put on. It was time to get up.

Out in the garden, a black shape was moving. It was a very large black cat, with long fur and a long tail. He was frighteningly large for a housecat, but nonetheless, he slipped inside. He walked to the kitchen and jumped onto the table as Lilith came in.

She fed him, rather automatically, before she started to make some tea. Tea was good.

Out on the street, the children were leaving for school. Lilith, they said, was a witch. They threw stones at her fence and chased her cat - as much as one could chase a cat who would not move. They were all superstitious of her - even their parents. If she was on the street at night, or her cat was sunbaking on the road, she was avoided - and the cat didn’t move for you. You moved for the cat.

It was springtime, and what came with springtime? Animals bred in the spring. Very few people knew that there were things that weren’t quite human that came to that street, in the hopes of breeding in spring.

Today was the day the vampires came to town.

Just a small writing excercise. Brace for many more of these. Had to babysit my nephew, so I did this in the meantime. I've never done a proper in-depth description of Number 36, Willow Street, and I hope to do more in the future.

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