A single ray of sunshine was making its way lazily towards the dusty roof of the little two story house by the corner of the street through the thick and unusually grey pattern of clouds above the barely woken up city. The air around was humid and surprisingly cold for that time of the year. Spring broke a week ago but it did not feel like it. Not a single shade of green was in sight as the snowy storm that occurred last week put to a halt every effort the trees and little plants made to change the tone of the dull and monotonous scenery. Shadows were stalking each other slowly as people too tired and sleepy to smile or notice each other made their way to the same old places they would go to make their living. The horns of the nearby passing cars echoed through the neighborhood as a driver too distracted by his thoughts forgot to take a look at his left and nearly caused a traffic accident. Anger filled the air, harsh words were exchanged and eyes burned with hatred but in a flash it all vanished and the little corner of the street grew quiet and the coldness in the air as if soothed the people who went on their routine forgetting the little quarrel. A little bird chirped cheerfully somewhere from the branches of a naked tree and it broke the staleness in the air for a moment but then as if understanding that its very existence did not make sense or perhaps looking for a warmer place and a handful of breadcrumbs to munch upon it flew away. Upon its little fragile wings flew away the only excitement and positivity that dawned upon this town this unwelcoming April morning. It was an ordinary day, an ordinary little town where nothing was out of order and everyday life had made mornings like this a usual sight.
Yet there she laid. A lump of clothing bright red sprinkled with almost blinding white among the brown and grey landscape. So out of place it seemed alien to this world yet bringing a nice sensation of something that despite the striking contrast brought a sense of belonging. The scene reminded of the sky on New Year’s eve — a sky full of darkness but a single and majestic firework lighting it up for a brief moment and however out of place that flash of colors may be it filled the eyes of everybody lucky enough to gaze upon it with the joy of a little kid receiving a present for his birthday. Locks of amber hair flowed like a mighty river downpouring from the rocky slopes of a mountain in a playful and carefree way all while maintaining that soft and curvy nature only the softest silken thread can produce. Almost perfect strings full of life and all shades of color entwined with the soil underneath and left in confusion a dozen of determined little ants looking for something to carry back to their colony. A pair of green eyes stared into the distance with pupils almost too big as if searching for something beyond reach or beyond understanding. Their calming stare was of those that could give the blessing of fire to the coldest of hearts and draw a smile upon the hardest of lips. Bright red lips drawn into a perfect line glowed under a light too weak to make anything shine or even stand out from the grayish scenery. A sudden and almost startling gust of wind playfully touched her pale hands and as if enjoying the feeling of a silky smooth skin brushed past her, blowing life into the puffy sleeves of impossibly bright red dress covering her, although only for a brief moment. There on the corner of the little street she was, resting head against the concrete sidewalk. It was the figure of a woman in her prime, a figure of beauty and elegance that would inspire the better in a person and suppress the darkness. A woman that used to bring light and power. A sight all too uncommon to the little town. A thing that had in a way escaped the harsh whips of everyday life, a caterpillar that actually followed up with the plan and turned into a butterfly as opposed to the flock of moths chasing for their imaginary source of light.
A young man bearing the face of someone far too troubled for his age took a wide and slow turn around the two story house as if his mind had wandered somewhere far and could not keep his feet in check. He had a long and straight black coat with no ornaments in sight except the matt black buttons who kept the occasional gust of wind from turning it into a cape covering him from neck to his slowly and way too stiffly moving knees. Navy blue jeans and a darker shade of brown shoes finished the clothing and his appearance was finished with a small grayish beret barely covering a slowly receding hairline. An empty stare produced by red eyes filled with the gloomy shade that indicated the weight of everyday life had won the battle with the simple joy of living and had suffocated the positivity into his soul met her gaze. The unexpected change of scenery and the bright full of colorful figures contrasting with everything around him snapped the young man out of the harsh grasp of his thoughts and threw him into reality as his whole body mildly yet visibly jolted from the shock. A deep and panicked breath of fresh air instantly entered his lungs and he quickly turned his dark brown eyes away looking down in shame. He upped his pace and walked past her trying his hardest not to take a second glance. His face was pale and lips were shaky from the shock. It was as if a ghost of the past had come to haunt his life anew or something long forgotten had found a way to resurface again after long thought lost. He knew her. It was the enormously large pupils and the white knuckles of a fists that were struggling to push themselves into pockets but somehow failing that simple task that told a story better than a thousand words. Yet they did not look at each other again. They did not nod in a simple gesture noting their unexpected encounter. There were no smiles, sincere or faked, there was no small talk.
Many people took a turn around that little two story house that morning and walked past her but none stopped by. Disappointment, regret, fear, sadness, shame and sometimes even anger filled the air but all of them walked faster and looked away as best as they could pretending to be busy and in a rush all while trying hard to erase the beautiful image from their mind and to focus on the gray day that had become their life. An ordinary person would notice they all knew her. An ordinary person would know that it was not the sight of the dead that unnerved them. An ordinary person would know that it’s the fact that they all helped her become this impossible beauty, a thing of perfection symbolizing life, positivity and all that is good in life and when they were done they all took part in her death. Yet ordinary people did not live there. They had long left the town or had just transformed into the faceless mass that inhabited it. Deaths like the one on that cold and unwelcoming April morning chased them away or grind them down to a barely alive mess.
It was an ordinary day, an ordinary little town where nothing was out of order and everyday life had made mornings like this a usual sight. You’ve been witness to sights like that too. You know her name. Your lips can shape the four letters as if you are the young man meeting her empty but welcoming gaze.
Hope.
