Eden

• Amelia Siddans, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2022

The woman inspected herself in the mirror. Staring back at her in the silver frame was a half-groomed face, eyebrows arched high and forehead wrinkles removed. However, her lips remained untouched, and her face still lacked colour. But yet, she did not continue. She did not continue, for she knew first, she must do something.

She did this every morning, you see. You might call it a ritual, a custom. But for this woman, and all citizens of Eden, it was simply routine. Never questioned, never argued against, because everyone knew there was no such thing as rules here. Everything was done simply because it must be done.

So, this woman did what she must. Without question, without hesitation, she pulled a glistening, polished blade from its wooden casing. Emotionless, she placed the blade against her palm. Pressing down, she watched dark red beads form in the cup of her hand. Her face scrunched as she pressed harder. Her hand stung.

But you see, this was the point. Those who live in Eden know the importance of discomfort and pain. Nothing can exist without pain. Dancers, gliding with blistered feet. Diamonds, formed with the extreme pressure and heat. The light of sunset, always followed by pitch black of the night sky. They understood that happiness comes with a price.

The woman stopped and stared down at the blood pooling in her palm. She ran her finger along the writing covering the blade, and read the inscribed words:
“Pain, a joyous feeling/Love, a saddening thought/Sorrow, a moment we long for/Happiness, a discomforting experience/Do not forget those who suffer”, she spoke, ever so softly.
Then, wordlessly, she placed a cloth against the wound and the blade back in its casing. Simple actions were required to enjoy simple things. Now she could continue.

She picked up her brush, and began again, stroke after stroke, bringing life to pale skin. Slowly, she watched the colours across her face. Gold, covering her eyes. A symbol of wealth and excitement. Green, streaked across her eyebrows. A symbol of life, of growth. Purple, dotted on her cheeks, for creativity, and happiness. And finally blue, painted across her lips, depicting intelligence, knowledge, and peace. The traits most valued by the people of Eden.

Painting her face, whilst beautiful, was necessary too. Here, these people do not smile, do not cheer. They do not find the need to celebrate in simple, immature ways. Yet Eden’s people were happy people. A happiness, filled with evil, with destruction, with pain. A happiness they could not express freely. So painting their faces, they must. The colour displays their pleasure at seeing horses prance, children run by or hearing the chimes of bells. It showed their contentment, and gratitude, to live in a place like Eden.

The woman lifted herself out of her wooden chair. Her hand pained her, and it would continue to, yet she was still happy. She had the painful happiness those in Eden all desired.