Age After Beauty

July 24, 2009
By AlyssHeart345 BRONZE, Tucson, Arizona
AlyssHeart345 BRONZE, Tucson, Arizona
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Long ago, a young, fifteen year old girl awoke one morning, smiling her confident smile. She got up from her bed and walked over to the mirror on the far wall. Although, it wouldn’t have mattered what wall, since she had mirrors on all four walls of her room, and her ceiling. Gazing at herself was one of her favorite hobbies. Genevieve was obsessed with her looks. Then again, with her honey blonde hair, soft pink lips, ivory skin, a great figure, and green eyes that were emeralds in the sun, you would’ve been said blind to not think she was beautiful.

Her mother stood in her doorway, rolling her eyes, “Genevieve, I told you to go get water from the forest well.”

“And I will… later,” She replied.

“I want you to go before it gets dark. The sun will set soon.”

Genevieve sighed and walked towards her mother, “Mother, if I want water from the forest well, I can ask one of the village boys to do it for me. “

Her mother’s mouth dropped, “You can’t rely on your looks for everything, and you certainly can’t manipulate men Genevieve!” she exclaimed.

“With my looks, I can do anything I want,” she claimed before walking past her mother.

“You won’t have your beauty forever Genevieve!” she shouted. Sitting down on a chair, she put her face in her hands. She had been glad her child had been born with such beauty, but she now was afraid of her becoming a narcissistic monster.

Genevieve walked through her small village in Greece, her toga flowing in the wind. She watched the village go on with their daily activities. Merchants were
trading, children were playing on the cobbled-stoned streets, and people praying in front of the goddess statue of Alice, the Goddess of Youth and Beauty, built in the town center. She lived up to her title, very young with dark brown hair and hypnotizing dark sapphire blue eyes. At the foot of her statue, was Anthony, her young and faithful companion.

After awhile, Genevieve reached the middle of the forest, where, waiting for her,
were her friends. At least, that’s what Genevieve called them. However, her “friends” were about as interested in her as a gladiator was in gardening. Because being friends with Genevieve was like being friends with one of the goddesses.

“Hello Genevieve,” they greeted her. She smiled and sat down on the soft grass with them. It was a cloudy day, the sun could not be seen and there was a breeze in the air, causing the trees to dance and ripples to form in the pond beside them. She told them of the conversation she had with her mother earlier. She blamed her mother for all of it, because she could, or rather would, never admit when she was wrong. The girls, unsurprisingly, agreed with every word she said.

“Your mother is being foolish. Perhaps, she isn’t in a good mood,” one suggested.

Genevieve shrugged, “I suppose so.” She looked at her reflection in the water. Flipping her hair she declared, “Oh, look at me. I do believe I could give Alice a run for her money.”

The girls exchanged a worried glance, because they all knew Alice though seemed kind at heart, could be vengeful, if she wanted to be. As the Goddess of Youth and Beauty, Alice also prided herself in her looks, like Genevieve. She believed she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and would punish anyone who thought otherwise. After that comment, they knew trouble would be coming.

They had been correct, for high in the clouds, Anthony overheard the conversation and rushed to tell Alice.

After hearing of this, Alice became enraged. In fact, her home began to shake. “How dare she? A ‘run for her money’? That’s impossible!” she screamed. She took a short pause, “Did you say the girl’s name was Genevieve?”

Hiding under a table to avoid Alice’s rage, Anthony nodded.

“Oh I should’ve known. That girl is horrible!” Alice had already seen her, watched her, and knew what kind of person she was. With this comment, she had enough. Alice called a black crow over to her and balanced it on her finger. She leaned closer to the crow, “You see that girl down there?” she whispered, “I want you to go down and scratch her eyes out, so she can never see herself again.” In response, the crow squawked and flew down to earth.

At this time, Genevieve’s friends had left, and she was walking, alone. From above, she heard loud bird noises. She looked up, saw the crow, but waved it off, ignoring it. All of a sudden, the crow swooped down, aiming its talon’s at her eyes. Alarmed, she picked up a branch lying on the grass, swung, and hit the bird, but it wouldn’t give up. She took a step back accidently on a rock, tripped, and fell backwards. The crow flew down to Genevieve. She shielded her face with her arms but the crow managed to get its talons in. However, it only managed to scratch the corners of her eyes. Genevieve screamed and put her hands over her eyes and ran home, blood running down her cheeks.

Meanwhile, Alice had been watching the scene below. Anthony, with a look of confusion, asked, “Aren’t you going to send the crow down again? He didn’t scratch her eyes out.”

“No. I have a more fair punishment for her,” Alice replied with a smirk. With that, Alice placed a curse on Genevieve. As she grew older, the scratches in the corner of her eyes slowly healed and faded into scars. These scars, now called crow’s feet, showed her age, the wrinkles took away from her captivating green eyes. Soon, her beauty faded. This curse was passed down from generation to generation. To this day, when women see the first sign of any crow’s feet, they fear they will look old and lose their beauty, just as Genevieve did.

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