The Shadow

The fierce morning sun, bright white and circled in a haze of yellow, pierced the wooden shutters. For a moment, as her eyes slowly opened, she was held in a memory from the past. She remembered the cool sea breeze like a faint breath on her shoulder while the warmth of the breaking waves coaxed her toes into movement. At this memory she smiled. The action was strange; an unknown in recent months.

Her bare legs scratched the bed linen as she stretched herself awake. Then she remembered, and the smile quickly faded. She was unsure how it had happened and been too weak and fragile to fight.

With a melancholy sigh she swung her legs around and placed her feet on the tiled floor. When she’d first arrived the cold had seemed fierce, now it was almost comforting. Her frail hand swept over the bruises that stained her body. The colours spread over her greying skin seemed almost kaleidoscopic; blues, yellows and purples highlighting the varying stages of her time here.

Footsteps echoed outside. She flinched, her body tensing with each reverberation. Swiftly, and ignoring her body’s immediate pain, she rose and moved towards the window. It only took two short steps. She fumbled at the latch, paint flaking into her palms and closed her eyes. Again, momentarily, she was transported to the beach. She saw her daughter, her beautiful daughter, blond hair sweeping playfully over her shoulders, dancing as if in a daydream around a crumbling sandcastle. The thought was devastating and she felt a sting in her eye, in her head, in her heart.

She surveyed the courtyard as she did each morning. The red brick of the single storey building dulled her thoughts though the air managed to create a small feeling of life within the young woman. She remembered the footsteps and turned her diminutive figure towards the door. How long had it been? Perhaps they wouldn’t arrive? Perhaps she had been spared, for today at least.

She leant against the white washed walls and let out a deep, long sigh. As she did a shadow appeared below the door. It seemed to engulf the entire room. She could already feel the warm breath, like the devil’s tongue, on her face and smell the lingering smell of stale rum which bore into her pores. Despite what she had endured she was a fighter, and an optimist, and she imagined that the shadow was disappearing, retreating hastily like the waves of home.

Then the door opened and she fell to her knees.