Reflections

A single shadow fell across well worn cobblestones on a dark morning in Italy. The sun had not yet risen and the quaint streets were empty of people, except for one statuesque woman. She was dressed formally, a well fitting skirt, shirt and suit coat emphasised her tall figure, draping her frame well. Her rich black hair flowed gently over her shoulders and down her back in a dark cascade. Her skin was slightly tanned in the few places it showed. She raised her head to look at the sky, strands of hair fell across her cheek which was turned downwards.

Her view of the heavens was a bleak one. The sky was dark as numerous grey cumulous clouds coated the horizon. With a sigh to herself she paused in the empty street. Casting a glance back at her small home, she frowned. The building was old, non descript but very well kept. The low door was painted a bright red and the stone walls were adorned with rows of wild roses. Their deep red petals sparkled with the morning dew. Her sigh was one of despair, she had always hoped to someday upgrade her living quarters but could never afford the cost. The woman turned her back to the tumbling building and began to walk. Her high heeled shoes hitting off the ancient stones were the only sound to be heard. They echoed from the low walls as she walked through an alley. The steps she took were slow, as in her slender arms she clutched a stack of folders. They were of various colours and shades, ranging from a professional black to a more outrageous green. Their weight slowed her down, though she was tall, she was slim. Obviously, not a person accustomed to strenuous labour of any form.

When she rounded the corner, she came onto a main street of the traditional Italian town. Here, it was not so quiet. She stiffened, outside the various public houses, the usual line of regulars sat on the peeling paint of the window sills. Their purpose was to recover from the night before. As she approached, their grimy faces spread into smirks, exposing uneven rows of yellow teeth.

'Ah Gianna!' one coursed, in a rough voice. She shot him a dark look, her deep green eyes narrowed once. A loud whistle echoed from the group of men.

'Feisty one, isn't she' chuckled one, nudging his partner. He snorted, an empty liquor bottle fell from his hand and rolled onto the cobblestones. Gianna kept walking, her steps quickening as she stepped over the assortment of glassware scattered on the street. Her heart hammered in her chest, these were the usual pathetic comments that she had to tolerate most mornings.

'C'mon honey,. Ti Amo!' called the first man, his chaffed lips curved into a smirk. His appearance was unkempt and unclean. A line of stubble was visible along his chin, some unpleasant looking stains were present in patches on his olive shirt, of which two buttons were missing.

Her only reply was to speed up, struggling as she was with her burden. Too preoccupied in her haste she failed to see the deep crack on the paving. Her shoe caught and she tumbled forward to the ground. A guffaw erupted from the line of men outside the bar. She winced once, a stinging pain shot along her arm. She had somehow managed to land on it, a deep red gash ran the length from her wrist to her elbow. Tears sprung to her eyes, as the pain intensified. Ignoring it, Gianna turned onto her side, gathering the folders which had scattered ,into her other arm.

'Want help, love?' called one of the ragged voices.

'N…' she began, turning her head around. Her sentence was cut short, he had been closer than she thought. His dark face was mere inches from her own. His breath stunk of stale alcohol as it blew across her own. Restraining a gasp, she dragged herself along the path, pulling herself to her feet. He followed quickly, his steps quick.

'Gianna?' he asked, his voice saturated with fake concern. She glared at him once, turning around the way she had come and breaking into a run. Scarlet blood dripped down her arm, until the sleeve of her white shirt was saturated with the red liquid. She did not stop running until she had shoved her rusty key into the lock on her house's door.

Bursting through the door, a sob erupted from her chest as she slammed it shut, turning the key in the lock. The small living room was neatly organised but plain. A single sofa sat against one wall, pale green in colour. The floor was a dark and rich hardwood, once again this caused her footsteps to be rather loud. A light cream colour coated the walls and dark wooden beams ran across the ceiling. Gianna's tears spilled onto her cheeks as she threw herself onto the sofa, the old springs groaned. In the silence of her empty home she sobbed uncontrollably. Why, she did not know. It was not from the pain in her arm, that had eased slightly. Her problem was that this was what she had to endure on an almost daily basis as she travelled the short distance to her work. Work. That had her thinking, looking at her bloody arm there was no way she could present herself in this condition. She worked in unusual circumstances, her own humanity was a constant thorn in her side and her blood alone was enough to cause ructions with her employers. Sniffing she reached across to her telephone.

Her fingers dialled a familiar number as she held the cold receiver to her ear. It shook as her hands trembled, she felt nervous. Gianna did not particularly enjoy phoning with news of her absence. In the past seven years of her work, she had missed very few days, only when it was truly necessary. Even when her own father, her only family, had passed away she had been unable to stay at home to grieve. She had passed the days at her desk, coffee cup in hand, fighting the tears that had welled in her tired eyes. She had hid her misery well , from her associates. Lost in her thought, she felt a jolt of shock when a smooth female voice came through the telephone.

'Yes?' it asked tonelessly.

Gianna stiffened, the apathy was impossible not to recognise.

'Jane' she replied, keeping her tone polite. Fresh despair, floated to the surface. Jane was someone who made her life a misery, she doubted that even if she had been on her death bed, Jane would somehow find a way to drag her to work.

'What is it Gianna?' Jane snapped down the phone. Gianna paused, there was an awkward silence as she debated whether or not to bother continuing.

'Gianna?' the smooth voice repeated, not taking time to conceal its annoyance.

'I cannot be in today…' she began to reply, her voice taking on an unwillingly pleading tone.

'And why not?' Jane questioned. Gianna had known that she would not make it easy, Jane usually went out of her way to either belittle, humiliate or exhaust her.

'I, um, had an accident this morning.'

'I see. Accidents do happen. It is a fact of life, I fail to see why this should disturb your duties' she said curtly.

'It would cause hazards' Gianna said quietly, she knew that Jane would probably take the hint that there was blood involved. There was a brief silence.

'Well, that is ,after all, your problem. You are the one at risk. I expect to see you in an hour, Gianna' The line went dead. She paled as she put the receiver back down. This was ridiculous. Her sobs had quietened and she her mind found it easier to think clearly. Reluctantly she dragged herself off the sofa and climbed the faded carpet of the stairs, meaning to change out of her ruined shirt.

When she was finished changing and had washed her wound, she stood and gazed into the mirror. Her gaze was fixed intently on her reflection. Her eyes were red and puffy from her tears and her dark hair was ruffled. Gianna was young, not yet twenty five, though her toils and experiences had aged her mentally. Her deep green eyes were exhausted, it was obvious to see. They seemed distant and lacking. She knew herself that she lacked in something. Company. She had lived alone for most of her life. Her father had been her only company for many years and with his death Gianna was more alone than ever before. The small house was inhabited by just herself and she often felt lonely. Her friend's list was empty. Come evening time she was always full of fatigue, too tired to do anything except drift into a restless sleep.

Despite her lack of friends, she was well known. Volterra, Italy was a small town and she stood out. While most of the locals, worked in the booming tourist trade dressed in friendly and casual clothes, Gianna on the other hand, was almost constantly in a shirt, skirt and heels. True, to outside eyes she was beautiful but to herself she was nothing. Years of belittling had led her to have virtually no self confidence which succeeded in her keeping herself to herself. Nobody knew much about her. True, there were rumours and gossip which she ignored. Deep down it bothered her but Gianna was not the sort of person to let her misery show to others She had an uncanny habit of breaking down alone whenever things got too much. She sang gently under her breath, trying to lift her spirits as she ran a brush through her waves of hair, she pulled it back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Stealing a last glance at herself in the mirror she stole out of her bedroom. Still singing, gently she drifted out the door, once again, the pile of folders in her arms.

A delicate silver watch sat on her dainty wrist. It was one of the few things that she knew her mother had owned. Her father had taken great care to ensure that she received it and Gianna treasured the piece. It seemed to fit her personality perfectly, it was classy, yet reserved and subtle, like herself. The gift which usually brought a rare smile to her usually emotionless face, caused her to frown. She was late. This time, she was aware that running was a bad idea. Instead, she kept her head low and walked at a normal pace. The main street had cleared at this point and various shopkeepers were busy at work. Their brooms swept across the paving, clearing the areas outside their stores. A few murmured a polite good morning to her with friendly smiles, they seemed to want to cheer her up. To outsiders, the sight of a young woman being so alone and saddened must have caused concern. Gianna could not bring herself to smile back, instead she wished them also a good morning and continued on her way.

Eventually she came to a large set of wooden double doors. Clustered around them was a group of tourists. They chattered happily among themselves, their voices sparkled with happiness. She sighed, so this was why Jane had insisted she came. She was expected to be the one to let them in. Gianna took a deep intake of breath, ready to put on her friendly and flawlessly polite charade. Her full lips curved into an unwilling smile, exposing her teeth. She pushed her way through gently and stood at the front of the crow.

'Good morning all. Ready for the early tour?' she chorused, her soprano voice holding a very polite tone. A few mumbled agreement. Turning her back to the audience she inserted a large key into the lock and flung the doors open. 'Just continue straight though. Somebody will be with you in a moment' she added, with a smile, stepping back to allow the group to pass. They shuffled past, forcing her against the brick wall. When the sound of their talking had faded to a dim hum in the background, Gianna followed through. Her smile had faded immediately and she closed the doors shut with an ominous bang of finality. The hallway was brightly lit with chandeliers fitted along the ceiling at regular intervals. The floor was composed of the same stones as the street beyond as were the walls. Although, they were brightened by paintings of the Tuscan landscape. She had stopped to appreciate the beauty in the paintings as she walked past.

She did not follow the group but slipped through a small wooden door at the side of the corridor. Shutting it behind her, she shivered. This led into an underground tunnel, dimly lit. The air was icy as it ate through her thin clothes. Standing against the opposite wall was a tiny figure. Gianna jumped a foot in the air in shock, her heartbeat increased rapidly.

'Now, now Gianna' the apathetic voice said.

She sighed. Jane. The girl's exquisite face was ghostly pale in the light and her perfect lips were curved into a smirk.

'You are late' Jane stiffened and her eyes focused on Gianna's bare arm. A shudder went through her tiny frame.

'Get out of my sight, human! Before you regret it.' she hissed.

Not needing any more invitation than that, Gianna turned her back and rushed down the tunnel, her heart hammering in her empty chest.

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