Room 593 [Closed to Toorop]
It had started as they often did. The woman sitting at her vanity, smoking her cigarettes. Telling Marie what an ungrateful daughter she was, and how she was going to lose everything. Everything if she didn't pay more attention to the signs, to what she was being told.
When she turned away, it all changed. A battlefield. Toorop was there, amidst the explosions, amidst the flames and the fire. He carried two girls with him, uninjured, guns hanging from him as he ran. As people shot at them.
He carried them through graves, and through horror. Carried them to a grave. Her grave.
He left them there and ran back into the fire.
Marie woke screaming, needing water, needing to wipe the sweat off of her skin. She made it to the bathroom, smelling smoke, turning on the shower. Curling up on the floor of it and letting the water run over her, still in her nightclothes, the satin dress twisted and sticking to her skin. Her hair loose and wet and heavy.
I told you, the woman said. You need to listen to me.
"No," she panted the words, her breath fast, unable to open her eyes. No, no, no. She didn't know how long she cried for, how long she said the word.
How long she stayed curled in the shower.
Time meant nothing. Only her will.
When she turned away, it all changed. A battlefield. Toorop was there, amidst the explosions, amidst the flames and the fire. He carried two girls with him, uninjured, guns hanging from him as he ran. As people shot at them.
He carried them through graves, and through horror. Carried them to a grave. Her grave.
He left them there and ran back into the fire.
Marie woke screaming, needing water, needing to wipe the sweat off of her skin. She made it to the bathroom, smelling smoke, turning on the shower. Curling up on the floor of it and letting the water run over her, still in her nightclothes, the satin dress twisted and sticking to her skin. Her hair loose and wet and heavy.
I told you, the woman said. You need to listen to me.
"No," she panted the words, her breath fast, unable to open her eyes. No, no, no. She didn't know how long she cried for, how long she said the word.
How long she stayed curled in the shower.
Time meant nothing. Only her will.