Glass

Oh yeah. I started a new story :) It's kinda bizarre, cause I thought of it in a dream. Here's the prologue.


Prologue

The father looked upon his beautiful child, cooing gently as he held her in his strong arms. Her skin was unnaturally soft, and her eyes unnaturally big. She stared up at her father with her big, blue eyes, lost in innocent wonder.
“My darling girl,” he whispered, rocking her back in forth as she lay buried within his loving embrace.
A knock was heard at the door, and the father reluctantly placed the child in her cradle and promised swift return. He left the room, and was otherwise engaged for the next several minutes.
During this time, the little girl stared around herself in obvious fascination. She wriggled her feet in slight frustration, her movement within the cradle narrowly limited. Exploration was her sole concern, though that particular word failed to come to mind, having never encountered it before.
Suddenly, the room began to glow, and the girl's eyes opened wide. A woman abruptly appeared before her, looking tall and determined. Her hair was long and black, and she held a hard expression. She didn't even stumble as she found her bearings, beady eyes quickly searching the room. Her eyes fell on the child, and she smiled in a non-friendly fashion.
The little girl stared at her, uncomprehending the malice upon the woman's face. But the smile abruptly changed into one of warmth and benevolence, and she strode over to the child's crib, gasping softly as she tittered, “My my, you are quite the beauty.”
The child promptly stuck out her tongue, but the woman took no notice. She swiftly picked up the baby, holding her out in front of her in order to get a good look at her. Sighing, the woman pursed her lips.
Without warning, the door to the room opened to reveal the father, the expression of utter shock and panic upon his face.
“Lucinda!” The man gasped.
“The very one,” the woman said with a slight curtsy.
“Put her down!” He said wearily.
“Mm,” the the woman pretended to think hard before answering, “I'd rather not.”
“She's fragile. You'll hurt her!”
“Fragile, eh?” The woman glanced at the child with a newfound hostility, smiling cruelly. “Perhaps not as fragile as she could be, Maurice.”
“Stop,” the man said pleadingly. “Please, Lucinda, let go of her, and let us be!”
Tutting, the woman replied, “Now now, Maurice. You wouldn't think that I'd harm this innocent child, do you?”
“Of course I do,” he said cooly. “Now, if you would...”
Laughing softly, the woman responded in faint, vicious tones. “I don't think I shall, Maurice. She should've been mine, after all.”
“No, Lucinda. Never would she have been yours. This is my child; she belongs to me, and Jilian!”
A fierce shriek escaped the woman's lips, and she furiously held the child up in one hand. The girl began to glow, and her sobs and screams echoed off the walls of the wide room.
“No Lucinda, don't!” The man cried, but it was too late. The woman's eyes burned hatefully as she clutched the little girl in her hand. The man fell to his knees and faught to keep his eyes upon as chaos ensued all around him.
Then, everything stopped, and all was silent.
The man looked up to see the woman still standing, singing to the baby in her arms.
“What have you done to her?” the man gasped, standing shakily.
“Why, she's even more beautiful now, Maurice. Look.”
The man stumbled to his daughter, taking her from the woman and grasping her in his arms. Her skin was cold, and no longer soft. Her body had the look of being frozen over in an extremely thin layer of ice, though she still kicked her legs and stared intently at her surroundings.
The man began to sob gently. The woman stared at him, an ever so meager expression of compassion softening her sharp features.
“How will she live? She will shatter at the smallest mistake,” the man sobbed.
“I will see to that. She is strong, and will not break easily. I am a sorceress, am I not?”
The man looked at her in utter hatred. “Why would you turn her into this... this thing, if you are still willing to help me?”
She looked into his eyes and whispered, “I do not know.”
The were silent for a few moments before the pain became to much for the weeping man, and he said quietly, “Go.”
“What about my payment?”
“Your... payment?”
“Yes. If I am to protect the girl, I will need payment.”
The man grit his teeth, still seething, and said, “I have nothing I can give you. And the only thing you have ever desired of me is impossible for you to have.”
The woman looked at him squarely. “Why not?”
“How can I marry a woman I hate? And I do hate you, Lucinda. Jilian would never believe it; but the loathing I now feel cannot be helped. I cannot marry you, and I will not.”
Lucinda stared at him, unsure as to whether she should be devilishly angry or despairingly sad. She turned on her heel, the room began to glow, and the woman disappeared as swiftly as she had first arrived.
The man stared at his child, dazed. His daughter, his darling Izel, had been turned to glass.