[ Sometimes, the days at school began to blend together. Class after class, uniforms that were always the same (so neat and pristine) and the same old of the other girls looking at her with curiosity or detachment. Who cared of she was meant for some great role in their religious faith? Most of the girls only cared about finding boys to have sex with or clothes, both things that escaped Colette's notice when she had other more pressing things to care about, like memorizing scripture and showing only her best face to the nuns and other student body.
It's after hours that she's sitting in the temple, crouched over a bible resting on her lap while her hair flows down around past her shoulders, with only candlelight and the setting sun catching on glass stained windows. There had been… some sort of party tonight, joint with the boys from the brother school for men, but she had decided not to attend. She'd never done well with large crowds of people despite having been raised to placate them -- keep demure, hands on your lap, listen to what everyone has to say, don't have a temper because your duty is to them, not to yourself.
It was easier being alone, sometimes.
Looking up, she stared at the faces so high above her, so heavenly and forgiving. While she held her faith close to her heart, she couldn't help but to want… more, to live like some of the other girls did, even though her family and the school both would disapprove. ]
What should I do?
[ With hands folded on top of the book, she looked up, golden ringlets cascading down her back. Trapped. That was how she felt. Each day it was getting harder to smile, so she practiced in front of the mirror, so no one would ever know what might dwell behind her friendly facade. ]
marg + au + catholic school girls
It's after hours that she's sitting in the temple, crouched over a bible resting on her lap while her hair flows down around past her shoulders, with only candlelight and the setting sun catching on glass stained windows. There had been… some sort of party tonight, joint with the boys from the brother school for men, but she had decided not to attend. She'd never done well with large crowds of people despite having been raised to placate them -- keep demure, hands on your lap, listen to what everyone has to say, don't have a temper because your duty is to them, not to yourself.
It was easier being alone, sometimes.
Looking up, she stared at the faces so high above her, so heavenly and forgiving. While she held her faith close to her heart, she couldn't help but to want… more, to live like some of the other girls did, even though her family and the school both would disapprove. ]
What should I do?
[ With hands folded on top of the book, she looked up, golden ringlets cascading down her back. Trapped. That was how she felt. Each day it was getting harder to smile, so she practiced in front of the mirror, so no one would ever know what might dwell behind her friendly facade. ]