The Timeless House 1
By Brittany
- 1261 reads
Jealousy makes people do crazy things. It can be an extremely destructive force. A force that lives inside of us all, no matter how virtuous we are, we all have that little green monster inside just begging to be let out.
My sister, Gróa, had too much of it. I recall once she had told the rest of the house that she was going to do my hair for the festival. My father thought it was a fine idea and despite my efforts, I could not convince him otherwise.
Gróa forced me to sit in front of the mirror, she walked behind me and softly stroked the back of my neck, as pulled all of my hair into her hand. From under her skirt, she produced a sharp stiletto. At first I thought she was just going to cut a few strands of my hair, maybe wanting to make me look like a slave for short hair only belonged on those in bondage. Instead, she took it to my neck and produced a small drop of blood from it, a silent threat to show what would happen if I screamed. As she did this, her grip tightened around my hair pulling slowly on the golden locks. I froze in shock, feeling hot tears well up in my eyes as my hair was pulled strait.
“Such pretty hair.” She sneered.
I looked at her searching her face for a hint as to what she was doing yet found only a crazed look in her eyes, one that gave me no assurance of her sanity. To say the least I was scared out of my wits. I had no idea what to do. I always knew she hated me but not like this. I never thought she would go as far as physically harming me.
“You are so pretty, like a marble statue in a Roman house.” She said in an eerie voice, as she pressed the knife into my skin pulling down the side of my cheek.
At this point, she was pulling my hair so hard the pain was forcing me to press up against the back of the chair and tilt my head backwards. Hot tears were rolling down my face, mixing with the blood from the cut across my cheek, and then rolling into my hair, though I already suspected that the roots of my hair were bleeding too. Why was she doing this? I was her sister, her own flesh and blood.
“Why?” I croaked through my tears as I stared up at her face.
“Why?” She said trying to mimic my voice, yet only sounding like a dying cat.
“Because, Frida, you get everything.” she said in a matter-of-fact tone.
At this point, I knew my sister had gone mad, I did not get everything, I did not even get my own hairbrush. I did not know why she thought this and I did not care. I knew that when people get like this, they eventually go raving mad and if she did, I would probably end up dead. I thought about screaming for someone, but then I remembered the cut on my neck and stayed silent. I sat there paralyzed in pain and fear waiting for the small chance that Gróa would regain her sanity.
Yet somehow, my prayers were answered but not in the way I expected, I heard door open in the other side of the house.
“Hello?” said a female voice echoing though the house.
I recognized it, it was Edel, and the girl our eldest brother was engaged to. Gróa quickly released my hair and started to stow the Stiletto but the door to our room the room opened before she could. Edel looked at the knife and then at my face and then to Gróa for an explanation.
“I stopped her. She was hurting herself.” Gróa said quickly.
I was too astonished by the turn of events to say anything so I just sat in silent shock. Edel did not seem to believe Gróa but she swallowed hard and walked up to me gingerly touching the skin near the cut. As I flinched away from her touch, she produced a bottle of liquor with the other hand, telling me to drink a sip, and asked Gróa to give her a cloth.
As she cleaned the wound she looked at my sister and said, “You should go.”
“I mean go get ready for the festival.”
I never found out why Gróa cracked that was the first time I saw how broken she was but it certainly was not the last .
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I am aware of alot of grammer issues but I am horrible at correcting them and my internet is not allowing me to use any tools to help me.
Also this story is based in a icelandic village in about 220 B.C.
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Comments
Hi ice love, a big warm
Hi ice love, a big warm welcome to the site. Intriguing story and found myself wanting more of it.
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The grammar isn't bad at all
The grammar isn't bad at all and the story has a lot of quality about it. Well done.
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Yeah, grammar's not bad at
Yeah, grammar's not bad at all. Really painted a vivid hatred between the two sisters. Awesome!
-Matt M
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