Scene 1

First scene for a short novella, which introduces the MC Virginia.

Virginia stands at the vanity, the small-square tiles cool beneath her bare feet. Her hands wrap firmly over the rounded edges of the marble top, her thumbs resting on raised porcelain edges of the basin. She can place herself though the darkness is like that of the sea, far below where the light stops penetrating. No moonlight, it must be cloudy. She hears the rustling of the cotton plants dancing from a distance, moving ever closer until the small breeze snakes its way through the open window, the air warm and humid against her skin. She touches her cheek gingerly, her face giving way to a small wince. She breathes deep and exhales slowly, turning the light on at the end of her breath.
“Damn it,” she whispers, dropping her silk nightgown from her shoulders and letting it pool at her feet.
She always tries to exaggerate the damage in her mind beforehand, but fell short. She looked over her body in the mirror, grateful that the he didn’t leave any marks below the knees or below the shoulders. The Georgia heat was relentless this summer and, at least, she could do just fine in her light, baby-blue shift dress, makeup for the face. By the time the sun crept over the far eastern edge of the plantation, she was new. The bruising buried under layers that made her face seem flawlessly smooth. Rosy cheeks. The whites of her eyes made brighter against the thick, dark lines they were wrapped in, her blue irises glowing amidst the contrast, all of which would go scarcely noticed compared to the distraction of her lips, which shimmered a deep, crimson red.