The Beauty of Deeply Desired Freedom

March 19, 2012
By KayleCrosson11 GOLD, Moate, Other
KayleCrosson11 GOLD, Moate, Other
11 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
"And When he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
and he will make the face of heaven so fine,
that all the world will be in love with night,
and pay no worship to the garnish sun."

I unseeingly circled the ring of my beer glass with a coarse finger as I heard the rain pound against the thin windows. A gloomy atmosphere weighed down on the deserted bar and the bartender continuously glanced at my lonely, clouded eyes. I released an uninterested sigh and I heard the background chatter slowly vanish into the frightful night. I paid no attention to the unnatural silence and took another large gulp of the golden liquid before me. The comforting smell of old mahogany was beginning to wane but it was quickly replaced by an intoxicating scent of honeysuckle. The distinctive clicks of high heels echoed through the now deafeningly quiet room and I reluctantly turned my head to see what exactly created this wave of awe.

She was beautiful, to put it simply. She had a miraculous crop of pale blonde hair that framed her breathtaking porcelain face. Her full lips were slicked with a deep shade of burgundy and a black dress with a plunging neckline clung to her flawless figure. What struck me the most about this fantastic creature were her sparkling emerald eyes. They had a menacingly glow that smouldered against her fair skin. Her gaze caught mine and I immediately felt the heat of an embarrassed blush creep up my neck. The corner of her lip was tugged into a croaked smile at my obvious admiration. That mischievous grin failed to illuminate her addictive irises, and that’s when I noticed her underlying sadness. The overwhelming silence was soon broken by envious women who clucked to each other about the male obsession of physical beauty.

“Hello there,” The woman exhaled, the air escaping her lips effortlessly. She seemed to be addressing someone else, someone who wasn’t present at the bar. I hoped I resembled the fortunate man who this goddess was appearing to. Then again he would be sickeningly handsome, which I am not.

“Hi,” I stuttered, running a moist palm through my brown locks.

The population of the bar had now erupted back into its laughter and glass clinking, the magnificent vision before me only being truly appreciated by myself and the gawking bartender.

“It’s not going to be how you imagine it, you know,” The woman cooed as she daintily re-arranged the fringe that skimmed her brow.

My forehead crinkled in confusion and I slowly turned my bar stool to face her.

“What do you mean?”

A melodious laugh emitted from this wonderful creature and her shoulders lowered as she let out a knowing sigh. She took a brave step towards me and I could feel her unusually cold breath as she whispered words of wisdom to me.

“You men are all the same. You imagine having a passionate, fleeting affair while spending some dingy night in a hotel. You’re never looking for love, any of you. You want the constant variety of women. Well, let me tell you. I am not going to be just another notch in your whittled bed post.”

I blinked in shock as these cynical words reached my ears. How could someone so pure and tremendous assume such horrible thoughts? I knew right away that I had to change her mind.

“Some men may be like that, yes. But I promise you I wouldn’t. I am looking for that right woman. I’m tired of this never ending search,” I pleaded, my persuasive stare never leaving hers.

“You don’t even know my name. You’re just saying what you think I want to hear,” She chuckled as she drummed her fingers rhythmically on the sturdy counter.

I opened my mouth to speak, but all that resulted was an uncertain croak. She was right, I didn’t know her name. But Lord, if I did I would write it on every piece of paper in the world if she asked me to.

Her face became overcome with child-like sadness in a few quick seconds after she delivered her clever retort. I’d never seen such an alarming mood change. Her pensive eyes lowered to gaze at the uneven floorboards as her lips pursed together. A painful memory must have played in her mind as she did not glance up for quite some time. Again, I struggled to produce words to comfort this tragic beauty, but yet I was speechless.

“Just forget it,” She spat, as she swiftly turned on her heel and stormed out of the restless bar.

I sprung from my seat and instinctively followed her out of the cramped pub. The rain was now coming down harder than before, each drop of water bouncing off the smooth pavement. The refreshing sound of liquid trickling down the rooftops and splashing into puddles provided a fitting song for the dark night.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice wavering with uncertainty.

“I love too much. I fall too hard. My heart swells for him, yet he says nothing. I love with my eyes closed and my mind in constant motion. Yet, all I want is one thing,” She proclaimed into the definite darkness of the miserable night.

I tilted my head to one side in curiosity. How could a man not want this fantastic woman? I couldn’t help the words spill from my mouth.

“What’s that?”

She stood a few feet in front of me, her tan trench coat that draped her shoulders saturated in water. Her hair was now a strawberry blonde shade that stuck to her scalp. Although she had her back turned to me, I could hear the grin in her tone. She leaned her head back and spread her elegant arms out as far as she could. She remained there for a few seconds, letting the raindrops run down her body. I took nervous steps cautiously so I could be beside her and see her angelic profile.

“I want to be free.”

The author's comments:
This piece was inspired by the last scene in "My Week with Marilyn." I love the cinematography in that final scene when Marilyn goes to see Colin in the bar, and I felt so overwhelmed by the pure emotion of it. I hope you enjoy it.

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