Reflections

She walked slowly down the unlit stairs, in her thick blue high heels. The door was open at the bottom. There, she stared out to an open space. Several children were playing on merrygorounds... in the distance. She could hear screams and laughter. Such simple delights were few in a life that had become torment. Every day, every way, there was pain, like the ladder she bore in her pale grey stockings. She thought of the warm rosey hearth of her grandmother's home. Ebony embers and rich rose wall paper, her grandmother's thick black curly hair and rosey cheeks. She always had a pleasant smile and nice things to say. It was rare you heard any of these nowadays. There were those who were jealous, and spiteful, wanting to bring you down at every turn, wanting to make you their devil. Such begrudgers had nothing better to do with their lives, but call you names, call you evil, when it is them who started the attack, them who harass and abuse. They were the evil, the green monster of begrudgery. There was always someone who wanted to ruin a good thing, wanted to ruin what peace of mind she tried to create. Now they were saying her suicide was iminent. The witch hunt was out to kill. The victims were the crucified... The lucifer, the persecutor, but they had it the other way around. Evil they were. Their last words were usually, you lose... They murdered, hidden behind a good facade, silent, but deadly. Staunch and polished, they criticised and tore apart everyone who didn't wear the perfect mask. She stared out through the small but bright window above, sitting on a blue stool, with a mug in her hand. A swarm of wasps bustled past. She hadn't expected the strange visitors. Down a dark hallway, she followed them to Mr. Pembrook's study. Behind that wooden door was what the women of Rosswell Hall would call an evil man, He remained hidden behind the door, making lots of money and not sharing it with anyone. The ladies, the nurses, all stayed in their rooms, cool blue offices. You would never suspect there was something wrong. They complained about Mr. Pembroke, about how much money he had and how little they had. The green monster had reared its ugly head again, but did they ever give him anything other that a complaint? Envy was the evil.