“Father, please…” the young woman pleads, carefully applying mascara to her one good eye. She should stop however, for she will definitely be sobbing after this conversation. “Not another suitor…”

The way the last three looked at her will forever be seared into Tallulah’s mind. To her father’s credit, he did branch out. He brought her a strapping young man, a woman a few years older than her, and then a sailor her age. The sailor stunk of the sea... but regardless—they looked at her with disgust. Horror. As do most people…

Tallulah sets her mascara down, staring solemnly at herself through her vanity’s mirror. A dainty hand moves to pick up her brush… she watches as the bristles slide through her platinum blonde hair with ease. She tries to not look directly at her father behind her… who is no doubt looking at her with his own solemn expression.

“My darling girl… this one is promising. Their… a little unconventional… not someone I would’ve normally picked for you… but—“ her father says softly, watching his words. He stops speaking as soon at he mutters that ‘but’… Tallulah understands though. He wouldn’t have normally picked this mysterious person, but he’s grown desperate. “Just meet them, my dear.”

He will never understand. Tallulah’s nose starts to sting as the telltale signs of tears start to appear.

Tallulah’s father is an important man… she’s never explicitly asked what it is he does, a part of her doesn’t want to. He’s a dangerous man, that’s all she knows. He’s protective too… much more protective than he was a twelve years ago… when the attack happened. Tallulah was eleven at the time, the year was 1951, and all was good. Her mother was still alive, and gosh… she had the warmest smile and the softest touch… all Tallulah wanted that day was to play outside. But a man who supposedly knew her father approached her from the bushes. He was nice at first—but quickly his demeanor changed. A splash of gasoline—and before Tallulah knew it, part of her was aflame. Forever burnt… forever melted… forever ugly and grotesque. Her mother died a year later… Tallulah never recovered. Shes practically been locked in the house since then, hardly leaving her room. She isn’t sure what happened to that man who burnt her… her father took care of him.

Tallulah lets out a shaky exhale, lowering her brush. Since she turned twenty one, her father has been trying to set her up with kind young men. And recently; a woman. He’s definitely become desperate if he’s offering her ladies…

“…okay…” Tallulah says quietly with a cracking voice. A tear rolls down her left cheek, her better half, a part of her is happy that only part of her is burnt… but another part wishes she didn’t survive the attack. “I’ll meet them.”

———

Tallulah tried really hard to look nice. Even if she’s isolated from the rest of civilization, she tries to keep up with trends. Vibrant green stockings, a green and beige plaid dress, a dark green vest to go on top, a bow tied around her neck, her signature black headband, and of course… classy black Mary Jane’s. Her makeup is done, and for once—she doesn’t feel entirely hideous.

How sad.

Tallulah tries not to think much of it as she leaves her bedroom silently. She would rather not start crying again, it took her awhile to make her face not so puffy and red. The young woman walks down the intricate stairs case to the foyer. Her father is there, waiting impatiently near the front door. When he spots his darling girl—his only daughter… he smiles softly.

“My sweet girl,” he coos, opening his arms to entrap her in a warm hug, pressing his lips to her scarred right cheek. “You look lovely. Why don’t you go wait in the library..? Thomas left you a plate of cookies near your spot…”

Tallulah nods, her brows drooping at the thought of her younger brother. He’s so considerate… born right before their mothers death. The young woman turns, silently stepping away to the library.

She takes her spot by the window, her good side facing the door as she waits… she doesn’t touch the cookies. She’s feels ugly when she eats.