This is from a short story prompt on one of my Role Play sites. Each day, we are given a few different prompts. It keeps you writing, even if you arent Role Playing your character. I've collected quite a few, and I thought I would share them. This one is dedicated to my good friend, whole name I stole for our lovely lead character. <3 you girl!
The entrance to the morgue was always a comforting sight. Home sweet home.
maybe that was a little morbid. Patricia couldn’t help it. She’d rather
spend her time with the dead rather than the living. She found their
stories to be fascinating.
However, being in a city as
big as this, many bodies come through that tell no clear story. The
homeless where the top of that list. They had very few belongings.
Hardly any of them had identification or even family that wanted to
So Patricia talked to them.
looked over their tattered bodies and belongings. She wanted them to be
remembered in some small way, even if it was just in her imagination.
Body ID # 025479-78
elderly woman. Patricia judged her to be in her late 70’s. Her
weathered skin told of a story on the streets, living in shelters, and
foraging for what she could. Her grey hair had been falling out, but
there was a pattern to it. She wore a cap or hat most of the time. What
was left of her hair was matted and knotted.
Her body was
frail, a small hump in her upper back, just below the neck. Arthritis
more than likely, her hands also showed signs of it, the fingers
becoming curled and painful looking.
Her clothing was layers upon layers of shirts and sweaters. The woman had body lice.
the autopsy was completed and documents signed, Patricia took a small
bag from the woman’s belongings. Most of the contents made little sense.
Rocks, thread and yarn. Twisty ties. A cough drop wrapper.
all the nonsensical things, however, was a locket. Patricia picked it
up carefully. She looked over the frail chain, opening the locket.
Inside was a single picture. It was old, cracked and faded.
The picture was of a ballerina. Was it this woman? Was it Body # 025479-78?
Patricia let her mind open to this woman’s story.
was a beautiful young dancer with the Russian Ballet. She was a crown
jewel. Loved by all. Her fluid grace enchanted theater goers. She
headlined several ballets.
She met a young soldier and
fell in love. But their love was ill fated and ended in heartbreak. The
performing arts kept the young ballerina quite busy, she gave up all
hope of a love life.
Matters at home became worse in ways of politics.
and her manager defected and fled to the USA. She wasn’t the crown
jewel here. The competition for headlining performances was too strong.
She was failing. No longer the Princess Ballerina.
took what she could, and modeled when she could. She didn’t have the
body most men desired, however. Long and lean, rather flat chested, few
Her manager left her. She took up work in a diner
serving the sailors around the shipyards. That was where she met him.
The man that seemed to pull her out of the fog.
been so happy together, for so many years. And though they shared a
lovely marriage, it wasn’t without its own tragedies. He wanted
children. Lots of boys.
She failed him. A series of miscarriages until her body just gave out. A hysterectomy was performed.
He took to drinking, and so did she.
And then, one night, he just didn’t come home.
Her job just wasn’t enough, and her looks were far gone.
faced eviction. She was starving. And even with hunger gnawing at her
belly, whatever assistance she did get she took to the liquor store.
fell in with a group of women at the shelter. It was first come, first
serve on the beds. Most nights she slept outside, under tunnels, or near
the train yards.
And that’s where the ballerina was found.
closed the locket. She looked to Body # 025479-78. She wished she had a
happier story for the woman, one with a nice ending. In Patricia’s
mind, however, none of these stories had happy endings. All she could do
was image some good memories for these lost people.
stood from her desk, moving to the body. She gently tucked the locket
within the old woman’s hand. She would take her most valued possession
with her into the afterlife.
The Princess Ballerina.