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What Women Want
An eerie yellow luminous light crept through the small gap under the heavy wooden door, between it and the oddly chilled tiled floor. She reclined back in the rickety chair, her body tense with her legs delicately crossed. Maurie was her name; she decided to go to the spa for a wonderful day of relaxation. She had flowing shoulder length sandy blonde hair, and stood at approximately five feet six inches tall, and was very beautiful.
Maurie sat there in the chair, sobbing heavily over the army’s letter explaining their sorrow over her loss. She was the type of young woman that every teenage girl admires and wanted to be like: dresses just perfectly, no brand labels just a subtle sense of style. Her unique personality was held in high regard. Maurie was the type of person that was kind to everyone and forgiving.
There was slight sound, as the puffy flaming red haired woman standing across from Maurie, mixed the lime green facial cream. Although Maurie’s personality was caring and gentle, her mind was her true gift. She flew by as a junior in college, like it was a breeze, nothing but a straight “A” student, and a most superb tutor. By all accounts she was the ideal woman that all women wanted to emulate: respected by adults and peers alike, listened to, emotionally connected and well loved and cared for by her best friend.
The aroma had a strong smell of cucumber as the woman gently coated her face in the cooling gooey liquid. Half of it ran down her face with all her sobbing. Not only was he her best friend, but her boyfriend too. He had the intention of proposing to her, as soon as he got back from the war in Afghanistan. She was a young woman that was truly blessed in every way. For her, he was perfect, like her own personal moon that completed her. But her sadness radiated off of her as she held the letter in her bare smooth hands.
Dear Maurie, the letter stated the army has sent you this letter to apologize and grieve with you for your loss. Scotty, a brave warrior, was taken a prisoner of war to the opposing army; we are sure that he is dead. We have done everything we could for him and he has been a tremendous help throughout this war. He didn’t give up without a fight. I saw them take him with my own eyes and it took six burly men to get him. I am so sorry I couldn’t stop them. I tried my best but there were too many of them; I just barely escaped from them with my life. Our troops were severely damaged during the battle he was lost in. He was so brave; he took out many of their soldiers before those six overcame him… And the letter went on for another few pages but she couldn’t get the courage to read anymore.
Maurie was utterly heartbroken; it seemed like her whole world had come crashing down the second that she received this letter. Ever since the day he had left for the war she had been anxiously awaiting the day of his arrival home. She hoped that they would get married someday. But that day will surely never come now; the letter has fully explained that her boyfriend had died in combat. The beautician tried to comfort Maurie and make the day better, nonetheless nothing worked. Everything the woman said makes her tears only fall faster.
“I’m done,” Maurie said, clutching at the delicate paper, “I’m just going to go home now.”
Maurie waited for her face to be wiped clean. When her face was finally washed of the facial cream, she stood up carefully, feeling like at any moment she would die of pain and loss. She was almost certain her grieving would never end, that she would surely die a slow painful death because of losing him. No pain had ever felt worse in her whole life.
With small carefully concentrated steps she left the spa and began her slow trudge to her car. Her hand reached for the keys in the purse and when she found them, buried amongst personal belongings, proceeded to unlock her door. She drove a small Toyota Camry that Scotty had purchased for her last birthday. She sobbed as she opened the door and sits in the driver’s seat. When, at last, she’s gained control of her emotions she began the five mile trip home. Maurie lives in the town of Albany in a small two bedroom one bath house that she shared with three roommates. The trip home took her less than seven minutes. She climbed out and walked up the steps into her home.
Weeks had passed, and Maurie’s grades had slipped, straight “A’s” were “C’s”, and she barely paid attention in class. Instead of everyone’s respect, they all pitied her. No one could believe what happened, many tried to help her get on with life, but it was so centered on Scotty, that life ceased to exist when he died. She’s a mess, hardly cleans herself properly and won’t even do homework anymore unless one of the roommates actually sits down to help. It’s as if Maurie is in a coma and she can’t regain consciousness again.
It seemed like years had passed as she sat in Chemistry class one afternoon. The lecture wore on but Maurie felt a nagging feeling that she had to go home. Having no idea what it was, she ignored. As time passed the feeling got stronger, until finally she stood up and walked out of class without a word to her teacher. Her home wasn’t far away from the school so she usually walked. Today though, she was running late and decided to drive. The parking lot was empty on that cold morning allowing her to park fairly close to the main entrance. The radio turned on as the car slowly turned over.
Once at home, she stepped out of her Camry, walking into the house and shut the door. She doesn’t know why she came home and nothing seems to be out of place. Her room is at the rear of the house so she walks back and changed into comfortable clothes and sat on the bed. An hour or two pass as she laid there until her eye lids began to get heavy.
That is when she heard, “Maurie” her name called ever so softly in a voice she recognized. Joy and alarm pulsed through her body. In a matter of half a second, she spins her head to see the face of which the voice belongs. A man, about five foot eleven inches tall with brown hair, wearing a black t-shirt and jeans, stands in the doorway. Maurie’s heart beating so fast it might jump out of her chest.
“Scotty” she whispered, not quite believing if he was truly there. But he was, her bright moon standing before her once again. Tears began to swell in her eyes as she stared at him for what seemed like an eternity.
Scotty stood looking at her with intensity, not sure how to react to her sudden tears. He’s seen Maurie cry before and has comforted her during. He always holds her close so that Maurie knows that she is safe. With a small gesture he raised his arms in a welcoming hug and Maurie leapt off the bed and into his arms, fresh tears spilling over.
Scotty holds her for a few moments before he gently moves her an arms distance away. He kneels down on one knee as she cries, all the while holding onto her right hand. He reached into his pocket with his left and pulled out a small black box, opening it ever so slowly. A beautiful emerald ring stares back at her. “Will you marry me, Maurie?”
His warm voice sweeps over Maurie before she realizes what he is asking. “Yes!” she cries and flings herself into his arms once more.