Hi my name is Emily Faulk’ner Prudence Christianity Twain and I have long ebony black hair, dark like the degraded soil outside of my family’s decaying manor where nothing will grow any longer, and icy blue eyes like my grandfather, who always went out the night before people talked about finding another lynching. A lot of people tell me I look like Flannery O’Connor (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Mark twain but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie, and papa always told me that everyone in our town was related somehow and that was okay, because better marry your cousin than one of those outsiders who pass through our town looking down at us in their shoes. I’m a Southerner but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I don’t toss and turn at night haunted by the knowledge that out further into the woods on our estate are the graves of my family’s former slaves. I’m a Southern goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly gingham. I love my mom’s spinning wheel and I make all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing the reminders of my family’s old glory spun into a cotton dress that reminds me of a time I never knew where we were still prosperous and the servants took care of our home, before the vines grew up over the side of our mansion and consumed the walls like our entire legacy had been reclaimed from the soul we took our glory from. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about, because the sun offered no protection from evil and all the worst terrors happened in broad daylight, like what happened to the older McKinley girl when I was younger. A lot of outsiders stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.
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