A Damaged Soul

• Sarah Bellis, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2012

A Damaged Soul

The old woman Alice saw was an exceptional sight, her face was marred with age but one could tell that she was obviously beautiful in her youth. The woman’s elegance hung around her like an orb, able to be carried with her to her next life. Alice analysed the woman carefully, watchful like a hawk, but with a look of pure devotion and loyalty, prepared to do anything the woman asked of her.
The woman under Alice’s careful examination wore a full length gown, pure white in colour, with golden lace tracing around the neckline and shoulders. Embroidered into the gown were intricate shapes of flowers and vines, reaching and twisting around her bodice. Layers upon layers of the fine material hung around her feet, gracefully placed with little effort on her part.
The woman stood inside her private chamber, lavishly decorated in rich reds. The chambers flaunted an ancient tapestry, displaying an old map of the world which hung to the side of a glass wall leading out into the court yard. The glass wall allowed the room to appear spacious, despite its clutter of lounge suites and wooden engraved tables. Upon the glass wall there hung thick ruby red curtains, tied together in a bow of golden woven rope. The distinctive element of the room, however, was a crystal chandelier suspended in the direct centre of the ceiling, as determined by the carved pattern upon the roof; directly beneath this spectacle stood the elderly lady.
The woman looked upon Alice in a look of pity edging on disgust, as she curtly nodded her head in the direction of her silk shawl. Upon receiving this look Alice hurriedly scrambled to where the shawl lay, hanging artistically over a metal chair that boasted complex patterns of spirals made of a shining metal that warped and coiled around one another until they reached the epicentre of the chairs back.
When Alice had returned to the woman she curtseyed low whilst offering the shawl to the lady poised above her. The woman did not speak as she took the shawl, instead choosing to just nod again; however, her face twitched into a half smile as she tried to appear grateful. Little to Alice’s knowledge just beyond the woman’s silence crouched a woman damaged and broken, outspoken by others and too afraid to speak. Melody Elizabeth smiled on solemnly from inside the woman’s warped view on life. Choosing not to speak; still saddened from the last time she uttered a few words…