Red by Yonin P

Night time was the time of day that everyone looked forward to. For some it's because of the drop in temperature as the sun bade farewell to one side of the earth to say hello to the other. Perhaps, it's due to the pull of dreams and needed rest associated with the dark skies and twinkling stars. For whatever reason, night more often than not was regarded as a period of quietude while the world's whisked away to the depths of slumber. All were trapped in dreamland, except for a particular red-head who nervously locked the door of her bedroom and readied for an adventure.

Hugging her tattered Chanel denim jacket closer, Prixy hesitantly climbed the glass sliding window of her room. The evening air was cool to the skin but then the sight of the silvery moon made her shudder. A night owl by nature, the darkness bathed in the faint glow of the full moon had always been a spectacle for her.

It's like a temptress whispering to follow her to anywhere. All those times the temptress tried to lure her, she always found the will to deny it, but not tonight. She'd willingly trod the route it led her to. ​​This is a good sign ​ , she mused. ​Give me luck dear moon ​ , a wish with the hope that if spirits were true, the moon's spirit would bless her as she embarked on an escapade.

Never religious nor an atheist, Prixy followed none but noticed that she's always drawn to the moon. It gave her calmness when in rage, clarity when things were vague, and a sense of belongingness when lost. Oftentimes too, she pretended to be the child of the moon whether it was a Vampire, Wiccan or Werewolf. These beings fascinated her albeit she knew they were myths. She'd love to meet at least one in this lifetime, but that'd be wishful thinking. She also dreamed to be one of them, except that dream needed to be thrown away in her reality. Still, she strongly believed that she unknowingly could be any of them because it made more sense as to why the moon affected her that way. “I want to be a hybrid though. What do you think moon?”

As if the moon understood her, its silvery light enveloped her as she braved a glimpse below to gauge the distance between the window and the ground. It's not a long drop but for the 20 years of her life, this was the first attempt to secretly escape from her bodyguards. With bated breath, she willed stubbornness to pump courage into her veins. ​You can do this Prixy, for a chance to live.

Regrets flooded her hesitant mind while she bended down to secure the laces of her boots. Being the only heiress and main model of ​​Seduzione ​ ​Couture, ​ her life had been pampered and sheltered more than necessary. Any commoner would give anything to be her, yet she'd bargain all she had for one chance to experience theirs.

Women envied her for money, beauty, and everything that she had. Meanwhile, rich and famous men coveted her and her social status. Each of them vying to be her chosen husband in the future but none truly cared about her. All they saw was the glittering stage set to showcase her perfect existence.

Blessed with a voluptuous body and a beautiful face, money and fame, name it and she had it. However, money couldn't buy everything and those it couldn't were what she craved the most. Her life was a script meticulously written and proofed by her parents, with her as the actress hired to do their bidding. If she was to summarize the plot of her life story, it didn't have any. Instead, it's an outlined documentation of a laboratory experiment with her as the lab rat.

15 years ago, a car accident caused the untimely death of her elder brother. On that fateful day, she was robbed of the chance to live and that one person who loved her unconditionally. The burden of inheriting the family business weighed her down like an anchor and drowned her in misery from there on.

Stripped of her independence and personality, she obediently succumbed to her parents' whims and orders. Blind to her unvoiced protests, she wholeheartedly embraced her prison and dictators without a word. Invisible diamond decked chains kept her inside a golden cage for the world to see and envy. Altogether, she was a pretty bird on display whereas the hands that choked her remained firm on its grip.

Life became a big pretense for her until she became a lie herself. Every day, she lost herself to a fabricated Priscilla Blair. That Priscilla was a mask that lived and breathed and forcefully slapped into her face to guise what her parents thought were unacceptable imperfections. They created a version of her who was an embodiment of either the good and perfect daughter who everyone loved or of the posh and sophisticated heiress worth a million dollars or more. That mask turned into her skin and now she couldn't take it off without bleeding. It became her essence while the real Priscilla ceased to exist except during moments that she's alone to herself.

None in the world knew the girl who hesitated to jump from a window for a taste of freedom. Dressed as a commoner in a simple black cropped top, ripped jeans, denim jacket and black combat boots, she crouched on top of the window base getting ready for the big leap.