So perfect even the mightiest of men looked up to her,
Exquisitely maintained, perfectly poised, and well-mannered it was as if she were a mythological goddess, sent here to merely remind us of our inferiority.
She floated through rooms with an elegance that left all in awe without ever saying a word.
Skeletons lurked in her closet. Buried in the deepest recesses of her mind the thoughts of her past reared their paralyzing heads during the long, sleepless nights she had grown so accustomed to.
No matter the elegance, poise, manners, or beauty she possessed, she simply couldn’t escape those long, lonely nights, and so she drew the drapes each night and waited for dusk to turn to night and ultimately the relief of daylight when she may put on her mask of perfection for the day, escaping the darkness.