This is my response to this week’s midweek blues buster prompt.
It is certainly not something that I had ever thought would possibly happen to me. I mean, I was something that was supposed to be feared among those mortal men. Looking me directly in the eye was supposed to turn people to stone, so I was something that nobody ever looked at. Let alone this. I peered into the mirror, almost fearful that the fate of mortals was going to happen to me. I did not turn into stone, so, for the briefest of moments, I was filled with a feeling of relief. Not for long though, because I saw the damage. A black eye. I actually had a black eye. I tentatively fingered the bruising, and withdrew those curious digits with a hiss of pain. How dare he? The serpents that coiled around my head joined in with their reflection of my hiss. I could not understand why they had not struck at that list before it hit my skin. Why would those serpents betraying me?
They softly moved against my skin and I realised their reasoning was simple. He had simply been too fast for them to have a reaction. For them to have reacted to that strike, they would almost have to have perceptive powers. That was not the case, because they were simply a warning to anybody who approached me. The serpents were never meant to be a weapon. Right now their movements were more of a soothing movement against my scalp.
I was considering leaving him for this act of betrayal, but that would have involved changing my whole situation. I really could not be bothered with change right now. I actually considered turning him to stone so that nothing ever changed. Then I realised that everybody changes in time, so maybe he would actually change. I would always regret turning him to stone if he changed into the person that I wanted him to be. The person that never lay a hand on me in that violent manner.
So it was that I decided to tell nobody what had occurred between the two of us. They might actually manage to convince me to move on, and I definitely did not want to do that. Nobody would want to look into my face anyway, so I was going to get away with a black eye. People were not going to demand an explanation for something that they did not see.
A smile graced my lips for the first time since he had struck. He had run away seconds after his skin had latched onto mine. My scream probably sent him running, but that reaction has been nothing less than what he deserved. My sisters would skin him alive if they even suspected the assault. Not me, though, because I was going to forgive his crimes.