Raya Meeks: A Short Story

She stumbled over the brick line right outside her low bedroom window, quickly wrenching it open to tumble inside unceremoniously. It was a good thing her room was on the ground floor, the low window a good exit, a means to escape without detection. Bothered by her mangled leg, she limped to her bathroom after closing and securing her window latch. Balancing on her bathtub’s rim, she unwrapped the scarf she had tied carelessly around the dusty gash. The red of her blood had seeped into the wine of the cloth, the draining of blood on the battlefield. Cleaning herself up and wrapping gauze around the tender wound, her body slid into the cold bathtub, her legs still dangling outside the vessel.

The race had been easy, like she knew it would be. Her bike was made for speed, made for someone like her. She could control the vehicle sometimes …show more content…
Her body was exhausted, emanating the smell of leather and her sweat. She wanted to shut down, completely expunge all cognition, her hardest battle. The battle she now fought alone. It was perhaps predestined that Raya Meeks of the influential and opulent Meeks Empire would be the crack in their utopian liquid glass. She did possess the temperament, the only one it seemed that burned in a family of the frozen. The one who could never be tamed, the one they always struggled to …show more content…
It was the food to his body’s cells, the only thing he craved. He had chased it, and built his twisted kingdom on his highest ideal. He conducted his entire life to suit this ideal, seducing a young Colombian dancer. Her mother had fallen for his charm, his controlled public restraint and immense wealth quenched her thirst for safety. Only after marriage had she realised the freedom she lost, forced to abandon her dance career she was carefully moulded and preened to befit the status of a trophy wife befit to be Archibald Meeks’s