Another regular morning and Eden awoke sleepily to the sound of the penetrating squeal of the alarm clock. “Great”, she thought to herself, “another day in this dreary and everlasting existence”. The room was cold; evidently the timer of the central heating system had no cut in, she could see her breath as she yawned heavily. A dim twilight shone through the gap in the curtains and right onto her pale face, dully illuminating her blinking emerald eyes. Eden was, at the time, a minimalist and never cared for material possessions. The white walls were almost completely bare aside from a single image on the wall opposite the plain, and simple, single bed. Other than this single piece of personalisation was a small wardrobe beside the bed and a simple dresser below the image.
None of the furniture was cared for, this was evident by the dust and cobwebs covering the simple wooden legs of the dresser and the bed. In fact, the only thing in the room that had any attention was the image precisely placed to face the centre of the head of the bed. There was no cobwebs or dust decorating the image or the black frame, adorned with a strange filigree. The glass shone with a polished perfection and made the image glow in the light of the room.
At first glance the image may not have seemed anything but a simple portrait of a young, blonde haired, girl. She also had green eyes that sparkled with an intensity like the stars. Her hair was long, straight and tightly tied up into a plaited bun with two long strands hanging down each side of her face. She was pictured wearing a simple but elegant blue and white dress which tightened around the waist and padded the shoulders. It tapered off into a flowing, and pleated hem, decorated with yet more strange filigree.
What made the image strange was that the forearms bust and thighs of the dress; these were not decorated elegantly, but adorned with immaculately glowing plate mail armaments. On her interlocked hands, she also wore plated gauntlets, with small, moulded spikes on each of the knuckles. This battle wear was also inscribed with gold pinstripe illustrations.
Her face wore a strong and determined look, but retained the elegance of utter beauty; in fact, her stern face complemented her total radiance.
Eden looked at the picture and smiled; “Well another day I guess... right?“, a small tear formed at the corner of one eye, and she let it slip free from her long lashes and roll down her cheek; glistening as it slid. She sat still for a moment longer, with a lingering glance at the image before bowing her head and wiping the tear from her face.
The rest of Eden’s apartment was similarly decorated to the bedroom, simple and minimal. She had a small sofa at one end of the open plan layout, and a brown coffee table; battered and crudely repaired in front of it. Scattered papers littered its surface, some screwed up and some set to the side and bound with string and paperclips. In the kitchen, the grey work surfaces were bare aside from a kettle next to the sink and the leftover packaging of an instant meal from the night before.
The entire inner wall separating the bathroom and bedroom from the rest of the house was taken up by bookcases, reaching from floor to ceiling and completely full of old and new books, mostly relating to history and mythology, focussing on particular eras of humanity. The case closest to the sofa, seemed to be the most used, evident by the wear of the books and the lack of dust which covered much of the collection.
Eden moved silently through the room and headed into the bathroom, pulling the door almost closed, “Why do I even bother?” she asked herself. She lived alone and it was extremely unlikely that she would have any visitors, especially those that she had any desire to entertain.
The steam from the hot water of the shower filled the small empty bathroom and coated everything with a twinkling vapour. She stared into the blurry image in the mirror and raised her hand. Using her finger, she began to draw a heart into the mist. Halfway complete, anger and frustration filled all of her being and she violently rubbed the image from existence, retreating into the shower where her tears could merge with the flowing hot water. “So stupid, I can’t do anything. When will this torture end? I can’t take it, I’m not strong enough. I just want to be back there... Anywhere but here” she sobbed, slumping to a seated position in the bath tub. Hugging her legs and burying her head into her laps, she quietly wept with the hot water running down her scarred back.