Beautiful is Empty

Posted: February 7, 2015 in Short Stories
Tags: ,

A/N: Sometimes inspiration presents itself rather horrifically in your field of vision…as does a trip to the emergency room with a dear friend…

Eyes are the window into the soul. She stares herself down in the broken glass of her mirror. Eyes bloodshot, bleeding, this place, this dark, dilapidated place in her eyes…haunts her. She can’t stand to look at herself anymore. She closes them, lays her head down on the dresser amid the broken mirror. Her hand hurts, bleeding onto the glass.

She was so…beautiful isn’t the right word…stunning, so breath taking. He always told her that, but now, now he just looks away. She can’t stand it, her auburn hair still shines, her piercing green eyes still dance but her face…her face, broken, bleeding…a mess.


Hearing the blood-curdling scream and the violent smash of glass he races up the stairs. She stares at the mirror, her hand bleeding, her eyes reflecting the brokenness. Quietly she cries. He wants to go to her; he can’t stand to see her this way. Broken, bleeding…alone. Her eyes…in them the most intense hurt.

So beautifully broken, she cries. Her body so pale, so fragile; yet she could smash a mirror, break a man’s neck with no thought to it. She was so strong, so full of life; it hurts him now to see her face twist with hate at the sight of herself.


She feels him there, watching. She turns and stares with intense loathing. She hates him; he didn’t do this to her but still she hates him, blames him. He beckons her; she turns from him, staring into the blackness of her eyes. The hatred in them, the way she looks at herself makes her want to throw up. Her head feels light; she starts to loose focus, her skirt now soaked in blood. Life fades to black meaningless…


She falls back then, he races forward catching her small frame, his knees skidding in the broken glass, he cries out in pain as he saves his love, his soul mate. He holds her then looking at her pale features. She was beautiful beyond belief; her lifeless body lay in his arms, her face finally void of all hatred.

He staggers forwards to their bed, resting her gently on it. Tending to her hand he sings…

“…immortalised in a young man’s eyes but beautiful is empty, beautiful is free. Beautiful loves no one, beautiful sent to me…”


She wakes then, staring her lover in the eyes. Bound and broken she smiles. His beautiful, soulful brown eyes filled with hurt. She realizes then the damage she has done. His dark brown hair sticks up at all angles; his hands caress her face. She kisses his soft lips and hugs him, his unshaven face like sandpaper against hers.

His face was like a map, lines tell stories. His face told her about him, him and their life together. When they were younger his face held great character, now even more, but she remembers smiling, the countless times he made her laugh. They lay quietly in a hammock many times, even now they still do. Strung between two palm trees in front of their shack on the beach. Not a person for miles. Peace…

She wants to tell him she’s sorry. But they need no words, not anymore. There is always that sweet understanding in his eyes. He carries her outside then, the hammock where they lay together.


The sun catches in her auburn hair as she smiles at him. Beauty beyond recognition…

As he stares at his wife, his soul mate her eyes, the window to her soul, opens and he feels her love, warmth and beauty come flooding back. Her face may grow old with time but the beauty shall stay forever…

He speaks his words slow yet meaningful…

“My love, give me a colour to paint the night and I’ll show you a dream…”

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