Elektra

by Jennifer Saint

They hated her. They hated her because she was so beautiful and because she made them want her so much. Nothing brought them more joy than the fall of a lovely woman. They picked over her reputation like vultures, scavenging for every scrap of flesh they could devour.

Sometimes I could hear myself as though I were outside my body, and I winced at the harsh drone of my own voice.

But I had grown up in the shade; unseen and unnoticed

‘But you are alive, and your life is passing you by. Like Atlas, holding up the weight of the sky,

the only gift I could give my children was for me to be gone from them forever. I hope it eases their pain, I think, as I close my eyes.

The ache in my chest is still there, but it hurts only with the memory of the wound.