Carolina Herrera's Good Girl Perfume Launch With Karlie Kloss
WOMEN FRAGRANCES GOOD GIRL
Carolina Herrera Good Girl ~ New Fragrances
Amazon.com: good girl perfume
Carolina Herrera Good Girl Eau de Parfum reviews, photos ...
It seems like Karlie was going for a “good girl gone bad” look, which is the perfume’s own promotional hashtag. Carolina Herrera herself drew inspiration for the fragrance from the famous Marilyn Monroe quote, which says, “Give a girl the right shoes, and she can conquer the world.” Good Girl by Carolina Herrera Perfume. From the American fashion house of Carolina Herrera comes Good Girl, a fragrance that celebrates the contrasting nature of women, mysterious and feminine. The deep, rich aroma of roasted coffee beans and sweet almonds are top notes that tempt your senses that give way to floral heart notes of sweet jasmine and creamy tuberose. Good to be Bad! The beautiful Couture Stiletto heel bottle is what initially attracted me to this perfume. Good girl is bold, a weapon of Seduction for the woman who wears it. Carolina Herrera announces the release of a new women's fragrance in September 2016. The new, sexy oriental fragrance is ironically named Good Girl with the message 'It's so good to be bad!' (#goodtobebad).Good Girl promises an innovative and addictive combination of tuberose and roasted tonka bean, which represents the duality of a woman’s character. Good Girl Fantastic Pink 80ml Eau de Parfum 1 Size. For Her. Bold & Sophisticated. For Everyday ... Bad Boy. Discover the full range. Discover Now. Carolina Herrera / Fragrances / Women / Good Girl Region / Language. US / EN Store Locator. Store Locator ... Carolina Herrera Good Girl For Women Gift Set (Eau De Parfum Spray 2.7 oz.+ Body/Lotion 3.4.oz) , blue 4.8 out of 5 stars 96 GOOD GIRL 1.7oz(50ml) Eau de Parfum spray Perfume for Women GOOD GIRL, the new fragrance by Carolina Herrera. #GOODTOBEBAD. ... Perfume is an accessory. As with Couture, creating a scent is a long and thoughtful process. GOOD GIRL's fragrance is inspired by Carolina Herrera's unique vision of the modern woman: audacious, sexy, elegant and enigmatic. ... It's good to be bad. Karlie Kloss was made for ...
My wife just bought a doll 4 [Finale]
2020.03.31 13:15 WinterWasTookMy wife just bought a doll 4 [Finale]
My breathing quickened, my body did the opposite. The two steps I took back were the only functions I could complete. All the memories of my pregnant wife were becoming null and I couldn’t think straight. However, the only breathing heavier and quicker than mine were behind me. When I looked, it was Clair. She continuously stared at me then behind at the broken room, over and over again. I ran up to hug her. “Clair, Clair; someone broke in. It was an old man or at least they sounded like one. They trashed the room before I got in and-” I noticed she didn’t share my hug. She looked into my soul with wide eyes and a horrified look on her face. “Why…” She whispered. “I don’t know why they did it; but whoever they are, they’re a monster.” I peered out into the scenery beyond the open window. Her breathing was as rapid as rushing water. Her trembling legs buckled beneath her as she tried to reach for the railing behind her. “Why would you..” She trailed off. The look in her face grew more frightened as I gave her a look of confusion. “Wh- you think I did this?” I took a step in her direction. She quivered back at my attempt to give her a second hug. “You were always jealous of Drake, but for what?” I knew I hated the doll, but I also knew I was not jealous. My facial expression grew violent like the magma in a volcano. The flickering anger in my eyes made it clear I was not happy with what Clair said. “I’m not jealous of that thing you call your son.” “Well, that thing is your son whether you like it or not.” Her voice, as well, had an angry tone. She stopped, all life temporarily being drained from her. “Jesus Christ. Are you even listening to yourself? It’s a doll. It’s not alive, it’s not real, it’s not breathing. Apart from looks, it has no relation to a human being.” “As the days go on, I’ve come to realise you’re not cleansed. At least I and Drake are. If you can’t learn to become cleansed, you have no place here.” Her stern face made me realise I was spending a few nights on the couch until further notice. “What does that even mean? You’ve been crying and bitching lately about how you’re not cleansed. I’m not even sure YOU know what it means. I don’t know what kind of mental illness you have but it’s been ruining our relationship since that doll became a regular in this house.” I never knew how my wife could go from infuriated to somewhat pleasant in an instant. Her eyelids flickered with innocence as she gave a deep sigh. “I just feel like we need to reconnect to each other like we used to.” She pulled a photo from her back pocket. It was me and her smiling like we used to. The back read; “see you soon, Drake”. “No, you’re not getting out of this. You’re going to tell me the deal with this doll and who the hell you think you are impersonating our dead son.” If I was going to get through to her, I needed to be straight and upfront. “What? Our son isn’t dead now that we have Drake. He’s more alive than ever.” She cracked a smile that rang a sudden bell through my ears. “Why do you think a doll is going to replace our son? It’ll never even come close to how I felt about Drake.” I once again saw the doll staring at me. Clair paused once more. It obviously had some connection to the doll. Whether it was physical or mental, it had some control over her. The sight of her state was something extraordinary. The realms of normal and abnormal collided with each other to create something otherworldly. My first thoughts were to call an ambulance but I soon realised they weren’t needed as she started to come back to reality. I peered into her darkened eyes and saw no reflection back like she had lost all the life left inside of her. “Clair, if you miss Drake, then why do you have this doll who you hold in such high regard? I mean, this thing is ruining every aspect of your life. It’s not like it’s adding much anyway.” A few tears created liquid strings on her cheeks. “He adds so much more than anyone I know.” “What about me? Don’t I do anything?” She smiled slightly and left my sight. The argument ended. At the time I didn’t know where she went or why she would abruptly end the argument but after a few seconds, I was alone. I had a strong feeling that I drove her away with my suspicions. The addictions had grown to be part of my personality. Despite not making any effort to do so, my life consisted of trying to figure out how this doll had an effect on my wife. I was genuinely convinced she trashed Drake’s room and blamed it on the doll but I didn’t want her to leave despite despising her and the thing she held in her hands every day. Time stopped. Her walking away reminded me of everything I had lost during the two months we had the doll, as well as her tendency to remind me of the good old days by doing all the activities we planned for Drake. I sighed. Where was she going? I heard the door close shut and the car’s engine start. I peered out of the window; the doll and her were in the front seats. I had a sudden hunch that the doll knew I was there. I was momentarily pushed into a memory of me and Clair in the two front seats, leaving for the hospital. I remember being excited and my mood felt undefeatable like nothing could top my happiness. Clair, as well, had a colossal grin developing across her pale face. The scene before my eyes took me back even further to a time where nothing was wrong in my life. But I was pulled back when I asked myself; “Why was she leaving?”. Was it because of me? Did I manage to drive Clair away into the dry, empty void I was trying to rescue her from? I felt like someone had thrown a bucket over my head, filled to the brim with water that had become lost over time. The sinking feeling in my heart had plummeted deeper into the chasm. My emotions had rapidly declined, resulting in the image of my study room opening the gates of my mind. I wasn’t sure if I needed to or even wanted to, but I’d always managed to peer pressure myself into gulping my feelings until they fell down a fictitious drain. The urge got so bad that I would fall down in anguish from thinking excessively hard. It wasn’t as simple as quitting since the shadows and oddities would be back to lure me into the dark corners that I wished to meander away from. While I wasn’t about to just give up on the alcohol and the cigarettes, I didn’t want to deal with my hardships by blacking out from liquor. In my opinion, it was a cheap but easy way of solving my problems. It caused unintentionally funny moments to occur but managed to add nothing of value to my mediocre existence. The only things I would make a reasonable effort to live for were thrown out of my life like a skydiving trip. I didn’t know what to say when I saw them leave, it was a sight so ordinary yet so damaging, like my reasons for living were completely shattered into a million glass shards. The monotonous mediocrity brought a dark cloud upon my head as I realised, my life had nothing. The only thing that seemed worthwhile was saving Clair from whatever grasp that thing had on her. Whatever it was, it was starving for attention and it closed in on her like a tight fist. Her look had changed the more it clung onto her. She loved it being with her despite not knowing what it was. I could see what it was though; it was a parasite. It took less than a day for Clair to forget about Drake’s room. She locked the door, hid the key and put a nail in the coffin. However, I had not. I wasn’t ready to blame Clair; in fact, I convinced myself to do the opposite. Thankfully, I still had the photos of Clair to help me realise she wasn’t capable of doing something so gut-wrenching. The last Polaroid I took kept appearing in the depths of my subconscious. It took an active effort to not let her know I took that picture. Maybe that day was the reason for all of this. Every bad memory, every sad night on the couch, every reminder that I was completely alone in the world. I sat there, smoking for hours. I had no choice but to survive the night without alcohol since I ran out and Clair had the car doing god knows what. She didn’t arrive home until eleven at night. “Clair, where were you?” I sighed. I hugged her. She smelt different. The last time I smelt a cologne like that on her was the time we got wasted for our honeymoon. I mean really, really drunk. The staff had to carry us to our hotel rooms and routinely check up on us to make sure we weren’t doing anything inherently wrong. “Me and Drake just went out for groceries but I stopped at the liquor store and I bought a couple of drinks, but that turned into a couple more, then more had more until finally, I left. I’m so sorry; it’ll never happen again.” She seemed genuinely disheartened. It was off-putting to see her so emotional. It made me guilty for sidestepping around talking about my problems when she was upfront and clear with me. “Just promise me you won’t do it again.” I gave her a smile only to see her face drop. I didn’t want Clair drifting on the same journey as me. With me, the worst was yet to come; I had experienced a lot with it but I was scared of the future. I was scared she saw my face drop. "I’m tired. Good night, Clair.” I kissed her forehead and swiftly hurled myself up the stairs to leave the situation without an argument. Despite my eagerness to sleep, that was the last thing I could do. Clair never came to bed, I wasn’t sure what she was doing, but I was worried for her. My night consisted of wondering where she was and who she was with, even though the question had an obvious answer; the doll. The ordinary shadows arrived just like any other night. They surrounded me with their constant attention and displeasure. My eyes glanced from corner to corner, trying to figure out where the strange noise came from or where I heard that alarming voice. The tension held my limbs in places and the shadows heckled me from afar. My eyes stung from the number of times I denied blinking in order to catch a silhouette in action. By the time morning arrived, I was dead from exhaustion. The shadows disappeared just like they had shown themselves the night prior. Despite my fixation on them, I never saw them leave. They were strangely quiet yet made a statement of some kind. Clair never made a single noise that night. She was somewhere I hadn’t been before. It was a mystery every time she disappeared. The lonely mornings made me wonder how many times this would happen. She would come back, apparently being here the whole time. She never specified where, which made me question the authenticity of her claims. It made wonder; where was she? This time, she wasn’t there. I checked every nook and cranny but she hadn’t shown herself. If she really was here, she would be fussing over the doll. The steam from my coffee threw itself out of my cup. Where was she? A long beep played out in my ears as I got increasingly worried. I hadn’t yet decided if I was ready to completely hate her or not. I jumped when she opened the door. “Clair!” I shouted. She flinched but greeted me when I made it clear I was not there to yell at her. “Steven. How’s it been?” "Never mind that; where were you?” I watched her put her head down in sadness. “Yeah. Drake kept pointing to a specific way home in the forest, but when we were driving down the path, it continued on and on; like it was never-ending. I’m really sorry.” I didn’t think it would be fair to yell at her for driving the wrong way, but, again, she was pretending that the doll could talk. Dr Rosenberg kept telling me the phase will eventually stop, but she never gave me a specific time. I knew she couldn’t but it was seriously painful to see my wife fall into the same hole over and over while being able to do nothing about it. I sighed. "Alright. I’m just glad you’re okay.” She reached in for a hug but I pulled away; I contemplated telling her about the addictions I had acquired. After moments of blankly looking at her, I sighed. "It’s not worth it. I’ll tell you when I can.” She squinted at me like a detective. Her stare made it seem like she was on the brink of a new case. "Oh, crap.” The realisation shot across my face. I turned back around to look at her. Clair slowly stepped towards me. I rushed into the bathroom. Her footsteps bashed on the carpet, only to stop at the door. The doll was on the toilet. I didn’t see him enter and I wasn’t sure if Clair brought him in there. Clair opened the door and awkwardly walked over to the doll to pick it up. “Drake was using the bathroom. That’s why I went after you.” “Oh.” I looked down while she left to sit in the bedroom. The attic was a place no one could destroy. Memories sat on shelves and hid in boxes. No matter what happened in my daily life, the attic was always there for me. I flicked through the same old photos, old memories resurfacing when I did so. It made me feel like there was that slither of happiness which hadn’t been lost like the rest. The longer I stayed in that cramped room, the more I wanted. There was a certain high that came with it and I wanted to experience that every moment I was looking at them. It lasted incredibly short. I became increasingly dissatisfied the less I experienced. At least whoever was up there could’ve let me relive the moments that I, on a daily basis, wished they would emerge from the small corner of my mind. Eventually, I had to leave. The frustration made it almost impossible to enjoy the time I had with what was left of my son. I cursed, feeling like I was mistreated somehow. The night continued on as usual. Clair smothered the doll with all her love and care. She had somehow fed him his food and I was convinced when I wasn’t looking, she would eat it to support the fact that the doll was the one eating. I made my way to the study room as Clair’s incoherent baby noises hurt my ears a lot more than I would’ve hoped for. The smell of cigarettes and fresh alcohol slowly tilted my own coherency. I peered around the corners of my mind trying to find memories I could remember to remember that there was still some good in the world. Time and time again, tears filled my eyes; only to soak back in. I stood frozen while memories of a younger Clair and a more wild adventure in the course of our relationship played in my head. I could feel my heart pounding through my chest while I watched like a total stranger, knowing what’ll happen in the future that would wipe the smiles off the two who didn’t know what they were getting into. Everything reminded me of my younger self, the sharp pain not hitting me until I find out I’m completely different from my younger self. I had slithered down a path that lasted for more than a lifetime. I couldn’t risk having another child for the fear of losing them. That fact hit me harder than all the rest. Whenever I looked in the mirror, I saw the shell of a man once happy, once fun, once interesting, new to life and ready to go on the journey and come out happy on the other end. And every drop of alcohol was a memory I was too scared to let go of. Every cigarette smoked was a photo taken over the years. I had been temporarily locked inside my own mind, and as much as I thought it would help, it did not. I wasn’t sure of how much damage I was doing to myself by just being in there since I went down a bigger rabbit hole every day. I saw the alcohol quickly disappear from inside the bottle which kept me hypnotized the entire time. The radio next to me echoed its harmonic music that attracted the birds outside. I kept a photo of me and Clair on my desk. She had never looked so beautiful. Future Clair walked up the stairs all the while singing to the doll. As you might expect, I was irritated to the point of wanting to throw the doll out again. Clair had become more involved then I could imagine. I think she felt secure knowing the doll was with her at all times. Clair couldn’t keep it together without it. I didn’t know if she was to blame for that. I figured I should take a few more steps in getting our relationship back on track. My first thought was to put the alcohol on hold and go comfort her, hopefully ending in some kind of deal like she won’t have the doll around always but can choose to keep it if she really wanted to. I hadn’t yet given up on trying to help her and I thought she had thought the same. I couldn’t stand that there was an issue right in front of our eyes, taunting us and jeopardizing our marriage. I carried a few books from my study since I wasn’t yet ready to talk about it. Although that fact remained present, there was a great chance I would bite the bullet and ask what we were to do about it. I saw her and the doll cuddled up in the bed, she read aloud a book she had bought a long time ago and had only just started reading it. I smiled at her before jumping in with them. Clair and I read books and magazines in the comfort of our bed, not being disturbed by the thickening tension between us. I knew I should talk, but when? I decided to take the first shot at a conversation. I cleared my throat. “So, what are we going to do about the elephant in the room?” I offered. “And what is the elephant in the room?” She asked. “I am unaware.” “Drake’s room; we know it’s been trashed but you’ve just forgotten about it and carried on with your normal life without taking a second to realise that the room is a mess.” “Well, there isn’t much we can do. You decided to trash it; most likely in a drunken rage.” She glared at me. “You know about that?” My voice dropped. “Yeah, I do. Drake’s been handing me bottles upon bottles of the semi goddamn alcohol every day for the past month. Or maybe it was because you hadn’t had a cigarette in five seconds because he’s been giving me those too.” She seemed genuinely mad about this but I never intended for her to find out. “Okay. The doll is not real, you are absolutely crazy. He has not been handing you things of mine, have been snooping around. Can’t you just tell me that instead of bouncing around my study room, finding things to make me seem like the bad guy?” “I have not been doing that, you are the one who’s going to the bar and coming back when it’s late, and not even thanking your wife when she pretends to be asleep in order to not believe it’s true that you’re an alcoholic.” “Well, do you think it’s nice for me to know that my wife is a sociopathic freak who likes to hang around with dolls all the time because she can’t figure out how she’ll handle the death of her baby even though she’s had plenty of time to do so?” I regretted the sentence that had tripped out of my mouth. I could see tears filling in her eyes. “You are an asshole and I wish you were gone. I wish I had never married you.” “I wish the exact same thing. You are in need of serious psychological help because you aren’t right in the head. For some reason, you can’t take responsibility and any slip-up you cause is immediately shifted towards the doll and he tells you to do it.” I started putting on my clothes, ready to leave the house and go exactly where she would want me to. Her tears were coursing down her face. “I hate you! You can take your stupid alcohol bottle and your stupid cigarettes and shove them up your ass.” I became even angrier. I did everything to let my rage known. “Fuck you!” I stormed off, going out of my way to slam the bedroom door on my way out. In the car, I finished off the remainder of my alcohol; drinking every last drop out of each bottle. It wasn’t enough to get me drunk, but it was enough to talk about my wife in a bad light, calling her crazy and other synonyms of the word every chance I got. The only songs that were on at that time of night were outdated pop songs or eighties’ rock music. I, of course, chose rock music as I thought it suited my current situation; being all mad or whatever. When I left the car, I flung open the bar door. The regulars, which consisted of twenty years olds, greeted me upon my arrival. I gave them a weak hello and sat by myself in the corner like every other night before deciding my drink. Once I had, they brought me a bigger glass than usual. It wasn’t a special day or anything so god knows why they decided to. A big guy, seeming to be in his fifties or sixties, came and sat next to me. His grey beard covered his mouth and chin, dropping down to his neck. He wore a black coat that looked too big for him yet seemed to fit perfectly. His eyebrows were thin. His grey eyes were the only interesting thing about him, besides the fact he looked kind of scruffy. “Why’re you looking glum? Do you need to talk?” He sounded Texan yet seemed to pass off from somewhere like North Carolina. “Not usually.” I said. “Come on, everybody needs to talk once in a while.” He smiled. “It’ll be worth it; I promise.” I sighed, I hadn’t talked to anyone apart from Doctor Rosenberg about my problems. “I had an argument with my wife. I said some things I didn’t mean, I’m sure she did the same and I’m contemplating getting a divorce.” It was the first time I had been so upfront about something like that. He thought for a moment like he was solving a maths equation except the numbers were all off. “Alright, what does she look like?” I was caught off-guard. “Sorry, could you repeat that?” “What does she look like? Give as much detail as you can.” “Okay,” I cleared my throat. “She has brunette hair with the best smelling shampoo. It always caught my nose when she showered. Her face is pure white with an amazing complexion. Her eyes are like sunshine that dazzle even in the darkest of days. It still baffles me how she can keep her teeth so clean. I don’t know her secret; I think it’s a little more toothpaste than usual. She has excellent taste in clothing. Floral dresses arranged for the perfect day. Despite having multiple pairs of shoes, they all suit her. She wears her nightgowns with beauty and her perfume is one of a kind.” “So, why do you remember all of this?” He asked. “Because I love her.” I gasped. “I love her; of course I do. She’s my wife and the time I could spend with her is spent drinking and smoking myself to death. This isn’t a life I want to live. I’m going to her right now. I’m going to kiss her and tell her she means more than the world.” The man chuckled. “That’s the spirit.” I had made my mind up. I still loved her. Every memory I had with Clair shot me up to the sky. I loved this girl with every inch of my soul and if I was going to save this relationship then why wasn’t I with her at that second? “Thank you.” I gave the man my sincerest words as I put on my jacket. He waved from a distance, watching me get into my car. I sped home, going past the speed limit several times just to see her. My wife’s beautiful face stole my attention as she appeared in my mind over and over. The lively music on the radio lifted my spirits as high as a kite. The trees clapped and cheered me onwards as their branches stuck out in their own way. Why was it taking so damn long? No one was driving ahead, making me speed up multiple times throughout the trip. The images of my wife powered the car as it continuously warned me the gas was too low. The moon smiled down at me, it’s bright light hitting me like an axe. The stars guided me through the forest and the forest guided me home. When I reached the door, I could barely open it from my shaking hands. I finally opened it; I was ecstatic. “Clair I’m sor-”. I was cut off from the sheer eeriness that the house gave off. It stood still in a time that presumably stopped. No light was on in the house. Making the moon the dominant light for the night. “Clair, if this is about our argument. I didn’t mean it. I still love you. I never want to leave you again. I regret every word that left my mouth and for what it’s worth, I’m ready to quit smoking, drinking and I will definitely lock the study room door.” Still, no noise escaped from anyone’s vocal cords except mine. “Clair?” I stumbled around the living room. Something was on the dining room table that wasn’t there when I left. I realised the power was shut off when trying to switch the light on, leaving my phone torch to do all the work. I shone the light on the table. There, on that very table, was all of my nightmares compiled into one photo. A clear and still image of Clair falling over. I dropped my phone and covered my eyes to stop the tears escaping. I thought I threw it out. Why was it still here? No way she would’ve found the photo. There was only one copy and even that had been purged off the face of the Earth. They usually had something written in sharpie on the back, right? One last time, I lifted up my phone and flipped the photo. “Didn’t plan on telling your wife?” Was clearly written in an old-timey font with the darkest blank ink I had seen in a while. It was him. I knew it. Whatever had a grasp on my wife was doing this and now it had somehow found the thing I wanted gone forever. No one knew how important getting rid of those memories were to me. They hadn’t resurfaced until now which hurt me because I knew how close I was to getting rid of those memories for good. I let out a scream, which got a reaction out of something. The scurrying of feet or someone on all fours walking on the carpet. I quickly charged up the stairs, thankfully no curtains were closed and I could see perfectly in the dark light. Drake’s room was the first on my list of rooms to check on. The door swung right open like someone had previously broken the lock. Nothing of Drake’s was in there. I wasn’t sure where the hell his stuff went but all that was inside was the white rocking chair we had gotten the day we bought the doll. I gave a prayer to Drake, promising I would kill this demonic doll which I had thrown in the trash long ago but it had somehow managed to resurface.
The next room; ours. I saw Clair facing the window; she hid something out of the way. The doll sat upright, watching Clair. It looked at her while managing to hold tension with me. When I held my phone torch up to Clair, she gasped in pain like she hadn’t seen the sun in years. “Y’know? Drake always knew you never like him. He was always aware that you weren’t a big fan of his character,” She said in a voice not of her own; this was stolen. “You always knew how to make him laugh with your stupidity. You weren’t cleansed and you never will be, only serving as the jester to his king. Now, I was and he knew. He told me what I needed to do in order to kill you. I refused, obviously. But now, I know what I have to do.” She revealed what she was holding; a knife. “Clair, don’t do anything silly.” I slowly black away. “I’m not.” She twisted her body and lunged at me with the knife. I practically jumped down the stairs while she took the time to run. “Clair. I don’t have time for this. We need to get you to a hospital.” She didn’t listen and instead came close to stabbing me multiple times. I couldn’t outrun her in our large home. I would grow tired eventually and she would kill me. My first thought was the door. I asked myself how I could distract her to run out of the house, get in the car and call the police. I would have to contain her somehow or they would dub it as a false police report and probably arrest me, which would make my case even worse. My next thought was to hide, which would be good since I could lock myself in my study to call the police. While Clair had lost me, I too armed myself with a knife and hid in my study room with the door locked. It felt like the phone was dialing for minutes, Clair repeatedly stabbed the door while I was huddled in the corner. I heard someone pick up. My hopes were lifted on the highest pedestal there was. “911, what’s your emergency.” “My wife is trying to kill me and is armed with a knife,” I shouted. Clair’s screams echoed through the house. “Run, hide and wait for police to arrive. Could you tell us your address?” I told her and she exchanged some quiet words with someone before returning to the phone. “Okay, stay on the line until the police get there; they’re on their way.” I knew I had to hang up eventually to run from Clair, but where was I to go? The lady repeated herself as my eyes darted around for possible escape routes. Clair, who had already broken half of the door, couldn’t yet fit through the door but that didn’t stop her eyes from putting pure fear into me. They had taken on a darker tone, even her face showed more mature skin. She had somehow managed to obtain the doll in her left hand. I couldn’t escape because of how she blocked the door. Although I had a knife, I wasn’t yet capable of injuring her. I was trapped in a death I couldn’t escape from. My fate was already sealed for me. I would get killed by the person I loved most. That was the worst feeling of all. She finally opened the door and stepped inside. “She’s here, goddamnit,” I screamed at the lady. “Okay, is there any way you can push past her. Police are in your neighborhood.” As much as I wanted there to be, there was a way around her. If I didn’t do something, I would die. It was then I dropped the phone. “Sir, sir.” The lady called out. I closed my eyes, and the deed was done. My wife dropped to the floor, the knife plunged deep into her heart; no life left to pull it out. The lady became more frantic in her voice, but I wasn’t listening. It was like her face was normal. She had reverted back into the normal, beautiful Clair. Her brunette hair in the same straightened fashion. Her light brown eyes reflected the light off of them. Her pale face showed beauty within. I had killed my wife. The person, the thing I loved so dear was killed by someone who loved and trusted her. Who promised on their wedding day never to hurt her, who broke their vows multiple times in the last few days. I never saw the doll from then onwards, and now I’m being questioned by the police. They found me in my study room, clutching my wife’s stone-cold hand, the police sirens and lights from outside doing nothing to stop me from crying over my wife in her state. They interrogated me, threatened me but I never listened to what they had to say. Their threats of the electrocution chair and death meant nothing to me. I know what I saw. I saw a girl’s innocence and ability to function took away and ripped to shreds. Her only coping mechanism was a doll which took over her life in every aspect. She was driven to attempted murder because a demon told her to. Her death taught me something I wish I had known from the very start; none of this was her fault. I never should have treated her like some sick, twisted creature and started treating her like my wife. The girl I had fallen in love when we were young. The girl who spilt hot coffee on me on our first date. The girl who I never knew could change my life in the way she did. She taught me everything I needed to know. The miscarriage tore us apart, and we never got through it but I’ll meet her up in heaven as an old man beaten down by the things he saw, cut open by the things he knows, torn apart by what he remembers. Every moment replays in my mind, I never knew how Clair was thinking and was too interested in my son. I would imagine what he would be like; a tiny addition to the family. But what weirds me out about my cell is that there’s an old man laughing at me from behind the wall every night...
2018.10.01 05:34 OohlalawSell/US Only. HUGE - 350+! Tatcha, NARS, Marc Jacobs, Hourglass, Lipstick Queen, Guerlain, Laura Mercier, Murad, ABH, Dr. Jart, Peter Thomas Roth, Bite Beauty, Givenchy, BareMinerals, Tarte, Chanel, Buxom, Fresh, Glamglow, Burberry, Too Faced, Jo Malone, Milk, Elizabeth & James, YSL, and more!
Hi, all. Having enjoyed some great buys here, I've finally made my first sale post. Though I'm new to selling on Reddit, I'm a longtime seller with positive feedback on another platform. (So long as it's allowed, I'm okay with disclosing which one.) Hoping to pare down my stash, so sales only, please. Thanks for your interest! Now, to the deets:
SHIPPING: US Only. Shipping from California. Packages weighing one pound or less will ship for a flat rate of $4. For packages greater than one pound, shipping will be calculated based on weight. Orders will ship within three business days.
PRICING & PAYMENT: Minimum order of $5 before shipping, please. Feel free to make reasonable offers, particularly on multiple items. PayPal G&S only; I will cover the fee.
ITEM REQUESTS AND HOLDS: First come, first served. Please use the comments section to make any requests or offers. Items will be held for up to two hours before moving to the next in line or anyone else interested. (Of course, late night requests will be held until the following morning.) If a longer hold time is needed, please make arrangements with me in advance. If you decide to pass, please be considerate and let me know. Sold items will be struckthrough (is that even a word?) or indicated as "SOLD."
CONDITION, USAGE, AND QUANTITY: Unless otherwise stated, all items are new and unused. Authenticity is guaranteed for all listed items. Items have been stored in a cool, dry, pet- and smoke-free environment. All items have been under my sole ownership and were acquired through primary market channels: subscriptions, GWP, promotions, and general direct retail purchase. The majority of items have batch/date codes and are verifiably fresh; items without batch/date codes were mostly recent GWP or promos and should be expected to maintain freshness accordingly. Items that are not new are very gently and barely used; amount of usage is noted. Items available in multiples are indicated by the notation "x #" (e.g., x 3 = three available); the price listed is for one item only.
Are you kidding? I was a WRECK. I was completely panicked after getting the job. I was so nervous I'd mess it up for the fans and never be able to compare to SB. That said, I think I made it my own and I'm really proud of it :)
I grew up in nyc in an apt with my mom. Our neighbor across the hall was a famous film editor. He told me when I was very young that it's not always the most talented people who make it but the ones who can keep standing up after taking all the punches (i.e., rejection, etc). So I guess I just keep standing up after the knock downs and keep pursuing the dream :)
Yes, I do get the heavier story lines.. but I think the writers have started to write to our strengths so that's okay with me. It's sometimes rough to "go there" emotionally but I love my job and I LOVE Fiona so she deserves all my attention and focus. It's worth it.
My gramma died the week we were shooting the episode where Fiona's gramma died. So that was hard. I found myself not wanting to get emotional on set because that feeling was so close to home and I wanted to save it for my personal life.
This year we pranked justin chatwin. we had wb release a script with a scene where he comes out of the closet. Justin was freaking out because he "didn't know his character was secretly gay the whole time"... it was really funny.. it was retaliation for another prank he pulled.. it was hysterical!
Red carpets are usually stressful. It's fun to get dressed up but I usually pick my own dresses and design hair and makeup so it's some degree of pressure. Especially with the internet you know someone online is going to blow up the picture so that your face is giant and they can see every little thing! that said, the parties are usually fun and it's nice to see friend and congratulate people who really deserve it for their work. I usually bring band aids and m+ms in my purse, for uncomfortable shoes and to keep my sugar levels up! :)
Hahahah Don't be silly! There are enough great characters to go around. I didn't audition because it was shooting during a season of Shameless so I wouldn't have been able to do it. I am most happy that it's having success because it could lead to the movie musical really having a comeback! and that would make this music geek really happy!!!
I think most writers are men and they write for men and sometimes women are just the foils. I try to bring as much as I can to the table for a female character and really flesh it out. That said, I think cable TV offers amazing characters for female actresses... which is one of the reasons I feel so lucky to be on Shameless, where I have amazing writers like John Wells writing specifically for me. It's a dream, really.
There are bits of me and my mom in Fiona. But she's also her own character and they write her so well. My mom was a single mom so she raised me by herself. Her tenacity, encouragement and love definitely inspires my portrayal of Fiona.
Dream wedding? Hmm. I've only been designing it since I was 4... big band, all my friends, fancy but comfortable, maybe outdoors, twinkle lights, the usually girly stuff I think... and I just heard about a cool tradition where the rings are passed around to each and every guest at the wedding so they are "blessed" by all the guests before they are put on by the couple.. pretty cute... kinda cheesy but cute... anyway, I think I'm a long way from that day so I'll just keep dreaming... :)
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