Okay so, this an entirely an impulse piece...I j have been wanting to put these thoughts out so here goes.
"Are you there, 'Zula? C'mon. Have a moon pie. It's your birthday." "Let's go, she's not coming out of there any time soon." "Would you like to see Dr. Pho?" "Ty Lee, you need to grow up...it's obvious she doesn't wanna." Fifteen minutes...then thirty minutes...then an hour. Finally, their voices had faded into the silent and peaceful summer night. Or almost silent. And a far cry from peaceful. Something was different at the palace. Azula hadn't practiced her forms in two weeks. And even that seemed like an eternity for the young prodigy. It was the night of her twelfth birthday, and Azula was alone once again. Sooner or later, she'd have to come out of her room. Father was becoming suspicious. After all, she didn't really have a cold at all.
"I hate you...so much." Azula spat at her own reflection in the vanity mirror as her vision became mottled by the salty liquid which began to leak from her golden eyes. They stung. There she was. The birthday girl. Her dark hair woven into a tangled mess and her lip curled into the uneven frown Mother had always told her not to make. "Ugly.", She thought, "All these people down there....to see me?" Pain. A great sharp pain pulsated through Azula's heart. This was the first time she'd actually gotten to have a celebration. Nobody usually thought of her birthday, including her. It was just another day of training and another day of playing the lead role in the tragedy that was her life. Nothing more. Just a screenplay.
She couldn't sleep. Azula thrashed out of bed and onto the floor where she collapsed into yet another fit. "You can cry.", she murmered to herself, "Just don't let them hear you." As her sobs grew into muffled screams, Azula did what she had always done on nights like this. She placed both hands over her mouth and pressed as hard as she could. Still, the sounds didn't go away, and actually seemed to grow louder by the second. Azula wished she was a servant. She wished she were one of them. She'd never admit that, but she did. She saw how they laughed and joked with one another and how they would talk about her when she walked through the palace halls. "Here comes your highness." "What'll she have us doing today?" "I hear she's actually quite lonely." Normally, she would never condone the first two, but the last statement was undeniably true.
Again, it was her birthday. Again, she was alone. And again, Azula wept until the sun cane up.
"Are you there, 'Zula? C'mon. Have a moon pie. It's your birthday." "Let's go, she's not coming out of there any time soon." "Would you like to see Dr. Pho?" "Ty Lee, you need to grow up...it's obvious she doesn't wanna." Fifteen minutes...then thirty minutes...then an hour. Finally, their voices had faded into the silent and peaceful summer night. Or almost silent. And a far cry from peaceful. Something was different at the palace. Azula hadn't practiced her forms in two weeks. And even that seemed like an eternity for the young prodigy. It was the night of her twelfth birthday, and Azula was alone once again. Sooner or later, she'd have to come out of her room. Father was becoming suspicious. After all, she didn't really have a cold at all.
"I hate you...so much." Azula spat at her own reflection in the vanity mirror as her vision became mottled by the salty liquid which began to leak from her golden eyes. They stung. There she was. The birthday girl. Her dark hair woven into a tangled mess and her lip curled into the uneven frown Mother had always told her not to make. "Ugly.", She thought, "All these people down there....to see me?" Pain. A great sharp pain pulsated through Azula's heart. This was the first time she'd actually gotten to have a celebration. Nobody usually thought of her birthday, including her. It was just another day of training and another day of playing the lead role in the tragedy that was her life. Nothing more. Just a screenplay.
She couldn't sleep. Azula thrashed out of bed and onto the floor where she collapsed into yet another fit. "You can cry.", she murmered to herself, "Just don't let them hear you." As her sobs grew into muffled screams, Azula did what she had always done on nights like this. She placed both hands over her mouth and pressed as hard as she could. Still, the sounds didn't go away, and actually seemed to grow louder by the second. Azula wished she was a servant. She wished she were one of them. She'd never admit that, but she did. She saw how they laughed and joked with one another and how they would talk about her when she walked through the palace halls. "Here comes your highness." "What'll she have us doing today?" "I hear she's actually quite lonely." Normally, she would never condone the first two, but the last statement was undeniably true.
Again, it was her birthday. Again, she was alone. And again, Azula wept until the sun cane up.
