Every night , these strange men would pace the hall , choosing a pearl that they fancied . Oftentimes I would be chosen , stripped from the warmth of my bed sheets and forced to stand in the cold , undraped .
Time was a thief ; he stole what I treasured the most .
* * * * *
Layers of makeup washed away as I splashed cold water onto my face , revealing my war scars for all to see . After peeling back the layers , like a chrysalis unwrapping itself , I found my true self .
I examined the war scars , streaks of red that never fully faded away . I put the red lipstick back it in its place next to the pearl ring . It had gone through so much with me , reminding me that Pa was always by my side . Its once glossy sheen was blemished with scratches and scrapes , but it was still beautiful to me . I stared at the girl in the mirror , with haunted eyes and dishevelled hair , and left the smears of blood and blotches of tears on the surface of her dressing table .