literature

The Woman With Green Eyes

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Literature Text

Please pardon my features. I'm not as beautiful as I used to be. I try to fix my hair and make it beautiful, but it doesn't want to be in a bun nor a braid. I twist my hair and it twists the other way. If I do nothing, my hair is impossible to control. My skin is also not what it used to be. The sea air is salty and drying. Now my skin is dry and scaly. Only my eyes are as pretty as they were in my youth. How clear, how green! If only the rest of my body continued to be just as beautiful. Ah, but no. I will have this hair and this skin for the rest of my time on this earth. I close my eyes when I drink out of a cup. If it rains, I look up into the grey clouds and not at the puddles. I know my face, but every time I am a little afraid of what I see.  You may call me vain, and you would be right.

I have two sisters. I am the youngest, the least accustomed to our life. My sisters have hair and skin like mind, but they are otherwise completely different from me. They are like serpents: they hiss venomous insults at each other and don't fear their faces. They don't try to control their hair; don't rub oils into their thirsty skin in vain. I don't think they understand what they see in their reflections.

We live on an island. It's rocky with skinny grey olive trees. The sea is grey and rough as it rapes the cliffs. Everything is wild. The son doesn't shine often and when it does, it only shines through the clouds. My sisters like to sleep in the meager heat of the beach, but I'm afraid of the sea. I can't even walk close to the sea without fear. Yes, in theory I could leave the island, if the sea wasn't there to stop me.

"Why are you afraid of the sea?" you may ask me. Memories, a horrible memory of my youth before I came to the island.

"But, what ha-" No, no I can't think about it anymore.

My sisters only sleep, eat, and fight each other, like animals. Not me. I prefer to be in my statuary garden. All my statues are of handsome and masculine men: soldiers, sailors, heros- ha! Or men who are foolishly brave. They don't speak, but it seems like they could speak. They are realistic, without the marks from an artist's chisel or hammer. Usually their mouths are open, and I sing and speak with the air as if they are singing and conversing with me. I love to guess their stories, their lives. Who are they? What does the bull's face on his torso symbolize, or the crab on the torso of the man over there? I try to learn the secrets behind their faces, and I tell them my secrets. It's an uneven exchange, but I feel less solitary with my statues than with my sisters or totally alone.
Sometimes we have visitors. I like when they visit me, but they are as bad at conversation as my statues.

Do you hear that? Another visitor, a man, a handsome man. How brave of him to visit me when I'm in this state. My hair is loose and I don't have time to arrange it, or attempt to arrange it. It doesn't matter. He is not going to see it if he doesn't raise his eyes from his shield.

Ah, his shield… it's beautiful! What shiny bronze, like a mir-
This is a working title.

I wrote this in Spanish originally for my Spanish Literature class, and while my Spanish is not the best, I really liked the story I wrote. So ta da, an English translation.

The assignment was to write a story from a villain's perspective in a way that we don't know who it is until the very end but we slowly get an idea as we read, and we have to evoke compassion for the villain from the reader.

I decided to write about Medusa. It was hard writing two pages worth of material for her. I had to really milk the different versions of her legend for details that I could use. That is why it is not an error when I say the waves are raping the cliffs.
© 2012 - 2024 Lydianime
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WomanWithASword's avatar
My favorite lines are: "I will have this hair and this skin for the rest of my time on this earth. I close my eyes when I drink out of a cup. If it rains, I look up into the grey clouds and not at the puddles. I know my face, but every time I am a little afraid of what I see. You may call me vain, and you would be right."
I also love all that the last line implies :D You've portrayed Medusa beautifully here, brava :clap: