Thread: Flowers in her hair the day he died (Raivh and SomethingEsoteric)

Nimble fingers tugged at the laces on the back of her corset, making sure it was a snug fit. The black fabric flowed gracefully down her elegant body. The small room was decorated with a few wooden chairs, a small table, a sleek, black vase with an arrangement of white calla lilies, white roses, and red roses. A closet door was open behind her, filled with outfits of her choosingall black, of course. There was no better representative of death than the color black and herself. She stared into the mirror, studying her reflection. Straight brown hair fell past her shoulders and stopped between her shoulder blades. A pair of identical green eyes framed by black eyeliner stared back at her, moving as her eyes did. Her lips were painted a shade darker than their natural color. Gently, she drew her lower lip into her mouth, scraped her teeth over the delicate flesh, and parted her lips upon releasing it. A sigh escaped. She tilted her head a fraction to one side and glanced at the clock on the wall, suddenly aware of its ticking hands. Time was such a human fascination, yet she was bound by it as well. She always knew when time was up. Today, she would be visiting with the family of a young man who the small town said died too early, too young. Perhaps it was true maybe he had died too early. His death, however, wasn't something even she could control. Death was a part of life, just as living was a part of death. She breathed deep. Her lungs struggled to fill against the restraint of the corset. To experience death was human, just as she, in this temporary form, was human. Time, of course, would never run out for her she was eternal. After the body she was borrowing faded and withered, she would assume a new appearance on Earth. Mara? The voice was muffled. It came from the other side of the door. Sweetheart, the family has arrived. I need your help, please. That was her mother. At least, that was the woman who thought she was her mother. In reality, the woman's daughter had departed from the world before she'd even had a chance to see light for the first time. That woman's daughter had perished in the womb, which had presented a perfect opportunity for Mara. Even Mara's name was a lie. The woman's real daughter was named Cameron. Mara had met with Cameron briefly before escorting the soul into the afterlife. Cameron had but one request for Mara on that day be kind to her human mother. The woman had suffered much grief in her lifetime, and the grief wasn't always her own. Yes, mother, I'll be right there, Mara replied in her sweet, soft drawl. She tucked a stray hair behind an ear and stood up. With steady grace, she walked to the door, leaving behind a picture of the man who had fathered Cameron. There was an engraving on the frame reading, God Bless Gabriel. It was ironic for death to follow in the footsteps of an archangel. Carefully, as quietly as she could, Mara turned the doorknob to her mother's office. She could hear voices inside. The voice currently speaking was her mother's, and the words that flowed from her lips were meant to console. Mara didn't look at the family at first. She knew their expressions would be overwhelmed with sorrow. It was something she was used to seeing. Instead, her gaze drifted aimlessly about the room. After several moments, she finally allowed herself to look at the faces sitting across from her mother. One of them, a girl, looked to be around her age, and her face was familiar. Mara had seen her on the night of the young man's death. Mara swallowed. She'd been close to greeting this girl that night as well. So close, in fact, that Mara could still remember brushing against the girl as she approached her brother's soul.