Violet's Portrait

Violet is a young girl. She has silky smooth brown hair that sits neatly equal to her shoulders and her fringe just along her eyebrows. Her face is peaceful as her head rests in the centre of the white pillow. Nothing is out of place. She reminds me of a porcelain doll, beautiful to look at, but fragile to touch. I think of her sky blue eyes as she lays there, deep in sleep. They are like the depths of the ocean; deep, beautiful and filled with mysteries. You could swim in them and find hidden treasures. She doesn’t smile, but she seems happy. Her pale white freckled skin looks cold, so perfect in complexion yet lifeless in expression and her lips are a pale pink with a touch of red. Her chest breathes as her white robe faintly moves up and down. Barely a sound can be heard except the machine beeping, signalling for a heart beat. I pick up her hand and feel her fine fingers, hardly any warmth present. The rough patterns of her soft skin are vivid but the tips of her fingers are icy cold. I know she can feel me, I know she can.

 

I close my eyes and send her my warmth, hoping that maybe, just maybe her sky blue eyes might spring open, but nothing happens. I still hope, I still pray. Maybe she’s dancing with angels? She is an angel…to me. I remember her smile. It use to beam and light up those around her, she would do anything to make others happy. That was the person on the outside. The invisible aroma of her favourite Jasmine Eyes perfume is still present and has captivated the room. The scent is addictive and whirls its way outside the ward. I picture this room blooming with flowers, she smells beautiful, she is beautiful. I lean over her and place the side of my face near her mouth; I can feel the faint cool air of her breath as it touches the tips of my ears. It’s almost like she’s talking to me. She whispers silent words of love.

 

As I sit and watch her. I recall this person whose angel like presence also contained darkness. The urge for love was a longing, one that she desperately searched for and one that was always there, she just couldn’t see it. This internal person she had at times controlled her. It manifested pain, anger and hate, turning her into someone unrecognizable because self-worth was not her mirror and acceptance was her praise. Violet wanted to be free; just like a dove being released from a cage. Instead darkness knocked on the door too soon and now here she was, in ward 10 bed 3, finding peace. I sit and wait for this precious life to come back to those who never left her. My tears can’t hold back as I cling to my ray of hope. If only she had understood. There are second chances, I believe in them. She will come back, I know she will.

 

By Catherine Schythe

Reviews

[Sammie]

Hi Catherine...Glad to see you here :) I love this story, the descriptions flow and emotions are invoked which is what writing should do..Can't wait for you to upload more work.

[jyfjygfgujhglkjgkutgfvk..]

Great Story! Love the description...keep up the great work! :D

[Pritesh]

Very well described story excellent.keep writing

[khalid]

wow you have described her in a wonderful way..i have enjoyed reading this..i felt i see her with all the details
nicely writing..