The curtain in front of her is fiery yellow.
She stands still, her toes curling in and out. Her fingers too shake nervously. She is unclothed, a thin silver chain that hangs from her neck the only thing on her body.
Those here see through her with ease; unlike in the town where she could hide behind her hard heart when needed. She wants to cover her bare body, but she can’t move her hands from her hips. For the first time, she feels like crying, but no tears seem to come. Her sly smile, which had been her closest friend, is now on her face, and it won’t go no matter how much she wants it to.
The curtain parts in front of her, and she’s pushed onto a ramp. She wants to close her eyes, stop seeing the thousand unknown eyes that ogle at her. But she owns nothing of herself anymore.
She feels her skin burn, and looks down at her body.
She wants to cry, but her eyes stare straight ahead, her smile on her face and her hands on her hips as she walks the ramp.
With every step, she feels it bouncing between her breasts, just above those words.
“A soul sentenced to hell for selling her daughter,” says the words that are now singed on her stomach.
Above them is a ruby pendant… the price of her daughter, and her shame.
(16th April 2014)