The Mind's Eye

The mind’s eye has a way of tricking you into thinking everything is fine. At first glance seemingly everything is fine and peaceful but under the surface is this black menace waiting to devour its unsuspecting prey. Carissa’s eyes were tricky. Those eyes told her that he was the one for her the moment she laid her eyes on him. Those eyes called across the dance floor to him that night at the ball. Her eyes were very tricky. So much so that when he glided across the dance floor to her she saw nothing but his face. She only saw those luscious brown eyes, those simple dimples, those lips so kissable. 1

It had been a quiet night where the wind blew gently against one’s face as they hurried out of their carriages and into the safe haven of the palace. Carissa watched from her room as the visitors came in two’s and three’s into her home. It was her mother’s idea to have this ball in the first place. As something that was only a step away from royalty her mother insisted that as a gateway into society a ball would serve to show all that she was ready for life. A grand ball to show that she had finally come of age and was ready to start thinking of her future as a mother and wife. How horrid a picture that was in her mind. Her a mother and a wife? Anything was better then being a slave to a man and a servant to small children in Carissa’s mind. She wanted to breath in the sweet scents of freedom. She wanted to roam the lands outside these countries boundaries. She wanted to be her own woman with no chains or shackles tying her down.2

Yet this ball was going to signify her defeat and her unending devotion to a life her mother had chosen for her. She wondered if she would meet her future tormentor here. She also wondered if this was going to be her last night as a young girl. She supposed it would be. Nothing good ever came out of balls like these. Nothing. Looking around at her bedroom Carissa realized that she was already in something of a jail. This room was decorated with her mother’s expensive taste and betrayed their wealth to anyone who dared enter her sacred spot. The only spot where she was allowed to think for herself.3

There was a small knock at her chamber door and her maid, Lila, stepped into the room. It was time for her to be shown to the guests who had arrived. Abandoning her post at her window Carissa followed Lila out of the room into a hallway that was even more intimidating than her mother’s domineering grip over her life. The elegant hallway was lined with pictures of family members. Edgar Soothe the Third. Jacob Soothe the Fifth. Paul Soothe and more. She passed by more Edgars and more Jacobs followed up by Hannahs and a Francis. All these men and women were part of her heritage but it was a heritage that she no longer wished to claim as her own. 4

As she came closer to the ballroom Carissa prepared herself for what was to come. She took I in a large breath and then entered the large spacious area. There was a space in the middle of the room for dancing. Tables for eating and others for sitting. There were groups of people mingling and there were others simply standing and nothing else. It was then that she saw him. The man she would come to know of as George. She watched him watch her the whole time her mother made her ‘introduction‘ to the public. Carissa smiled and curtsied like she had practiced but it still felt fake. She still felt like a monkey paraded around for show. After the accursed speech was done she made her way discreetly out to the balcony away from the guests to be alone. To think about what this ball was going to do for her. It was going to transform her life into a muddle of men. Into a mirage of silly little dresses and meaningless conversation. All the things her mother loved.5

Trapped in her thoughts of misery and contempt for the life she was expected to lead from then forward, she turned around to see him coming towards her with his eyes a twinkle and his smile seducing. It was this picture that snapped her back to life more than anything. He came to her and her heart was his. He came to her with a rose in his hand. For her, he said. It was for her and he was hers too, if she would have him. Oh, yes she would have him. Those words led to more as they talked all night until the ball was over. Days after the ball they talked even more and met each other a few times. Whatever freedom Carissa saw in his eyes was false because it was too soon that they had to part. Or rather he parted, and left her to wallow in her own stupidity. Yes, her eyes were tricky. What good they saw in George was not true good, but evil in disguise. What honesty they believed to have glimpsed was not honesty but rather a morsel of deceit. 6

The day he left her with no warning was the day she went to the garden and cried. To be surrounded by pretty flowers was her only comfort in that moment. There would be no running to mother. No, her mother would not understand something so delicate as a broken heart. In order to do that she would have to have one herself. To Carissa it felt as if a whole month of their love was wasted. A whole month of happiness was ruined. Through shed tears Carissa saw the only thing that may have been true of him the whole time. There growing in the shade, or perhaps it was darkness, was a rose that was like him, beautiful and pure on the outside. A rose that was like him, sharp and full of razors. A rose that was like him, red like the blood he spilled from her heart. Yes, the mind’s eye is a tricky thing, and a thing Carissa no longer trusted.7