Her bright flowery dress didn't fit to the sad and frightened round eyes. She was packing her clothes and small nostalgic stuff to the big leather bag and it looked like nobody could stop her now.
The sun rays fell directly on the floor, making the room full of light and even more spacious. A big vintage mirror reflected her, and it paid her attention for a minute. She remembered that this mirror was the first major purchase in her life. She always thought that such big mirrors in a beautiful golden frame is a must-have for every aristocratic family. She didn’t want to remember about her family again, she was a mother, father and the elder brother for herself, and she learned how to live with it. She took her little golden brush,came closer to the mirror, and began to brush her long ginger curls. She was beautiful, a lost daughter of the British baroness, for sure, that's what everybody around talked behind her back. Her blue eyes, the pale skin and the red lips looked like their owner is one of Waterhouse's women alive.
Patricia remembered herself being a little girl, a dreamy angel. Why she's leaving Paris, the city of her dream?... She memorised all the million sketches of Notre Dame, champs Elysee's, and the Eiffel Tower, of course. It was kind of that dreams of the lifetime that rarely come true, but now she’s here and there is nothing to regret, but to enjoy her beautiful life.
That was too much, she fell on the bed and began to cry. She realised that after making a step outside Paris, she will lose everything. She knew that that's her only option, she has no choice, but she couldn't get rid of that bitter feeling.
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