Plea for Forgivness: Part II
The door had been locked and the room void of human touch since early winter. Were anyone to enter they would notice a slightly eerie sensation as if they were entering a shrine or a place stopped in time.
On the walls hang portraits of a handsome young man, in some he is alone, in others he is with people who could very well be family. Along the west wall stand four dress forms, the gowns on them covered with sheets of linen to protect them. In front of the shuttered window on the east side of the room is a table where dried flowers lay scattered, some of the petals having fallen to the floor. A stain marks the wall opposite the door and shattered glass lies on the floor directly below it.
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Keera hurried into the gallery, the only sign that she even noticed the storm raging or that her clothes were wet was a shiver. She paused long enough to lock the main entrance behind her then quickly moved to the back of the building. She stood in front of the locked door as if gathering courage then she reached out and slowly turned the key.
She entered and lit a lamp then closed the door. She let her gaze travel around the room that she and Mallory had fondly called the "wedding" room. The room where they had laughed and worked to make Keera's dream wedding a reality. The dried flowers from where they had experimented trying to make the perfect bouquet. The paintings and sketches they had hung of Rohan because of Keera's desire to have him be a part of the plans even when he was gone. The gowns that Hannah had lovingly stitched for her cousin and the bridesmaids and finally the stain of wine on the wall from the night Keera had made up her mind that Rohan wasn't returning to her and she had thrown the bottle before turning and leaving, locking the door behind her until this moment.
She walked over to the dress forms and began removing the linens, revealing the gowns that Raen, Mallory and Skye were to have worn gowns of silk, the colors of fall. The last she uncovered was her own, the most beautiful wedding gown she had ever seen. She touched the soft silk like material then stepping back she removed her wet clothes and slipped the gown over her head, the material seeming to caress her skin, clinging to her soft curves. Then she moved over to the table and picked up the dried flowers, tucking a few of the dead stems into her braid though they nearly crumbled in her hand.
This task finished she walked slowly around the room, the wedding gown twirling about her legs as she did so, she stopped in front of the large portrait of Rohan, the one she had planned to give him on their wedding day. With one hand she reached out and touched where she had painted the curve of his cheek, softly she whispered "I'm sorry Rohan, please forgive me." She stood there for a long while then turned away.
She made her way over to where the broken wine bottle lay and bending down she began picking up the broken pieces, throwing them into a basket that sat nearby. As she picked up one of the larger pieces she cried out as it pierced the skin of her hand, she dropped the glass and looked at the wound as the blood flowed. She began to cry softly and fell to her knees as the blood dripped onto the silk of the gown, then she lay down, curling up into a ball, the tears now coming as great sobs until finally she was too exhausted to cry any more.
Written by: Bonnie McNabb 6/00