The Penitent Magdalene

A young woman sits next to a decorative mirror. A candle's flame reaches up towards her face, casting a strong light upon her fragile body. This light, in turn, creates ill-omened shadows across the room: its deafening presence almost engulfs her body entirely. She sits in an oppressive silence, her long brown hair cascading down her furrowed white shirt. Her folded hands are tightened on the gleaming skull resting peacefully on her lap. Its eyes are wide open as it stares straight ahead without a drop of life to be seen.

The woman is wistful at this moment, although her emotions switch rapidly as she looks longingly past the expensive mirror she no longer has a right to own. The darkness that she sees sinks into her eyes as she prays for an unknown answer to an unknown question. Her skin, white as paper and prime as wax, reflects the flickering flame that shows no sign of sinking, contrasting with the rivers of red that flow underneath the resting skull, pooling to the ground to hide her legs and feet.

The woman contemplates life, praying to repent for what she had done. She thinks in shame of how she has lived her life so far but still hopes for a better future for the sake of all those who care about her.

She ponders death. A part of her not deeming her penitent self worth the effort of others' forgiveness. She does not want her loved ones to have hope for someone who might be too far gone.

She wishes to discard all vanity and sense of self. Thinking she is like that second flame flickering in the corner of her eye, hovering between life and death as time ticks forward towards the inevitable conclusion of what rests under her hands.

However, all the same, she is hoping not to be abandoned like her unpolished jewellery on the ground. She prays for forgiveness to come to her so she could continue on like that strong flame. She prays to hold her loved ones one last time.

However, silence is all she receives, so a sullen silence is all she emits: the world around her holds its breath as the woman decides to come to an answer without any of the divine intervention she so fervently prayed for all her life.

She knows that one day the flame which burns bright in the corner of her eyes will flicker out. As she had been questioning the darkness with shame and uncertainty, those shadows looming above her head had been crawling towards her sense of self and body of solitude with intentions of swallowing her whole. These shadows have no hesitation, so the woman too, shall have no hesitation. No praying, hoping, or any sense of vanity will delay the inevitable. This is what she knows to be true and what she has always known since the day it all went wrong.

So the woman sits and waits for those watching shadows on the walls to crawl forward as the flame finally loses its battle with the wax. She watches as it desperately reaches for the sky, then plummets downwards. Slowly, the wax pools down and the flame chases after it; unknowingly killing what gives the flame its life. In its last moments, the flame cries out and flickers sporadically as it begs for life once more. Then, as suddenly as it came, it is no more. The shadows, which have now approached her body, close in on her and wrap her in Their embrace.

She closes her eyes and falls asleep.