Jezebel

"Jezebel, what a belle
Looks like a princess in her new dress
Where did you get that
Do you really want to know she said"

Her beauty startled me, unsettled me. My breath caught in my throat and my heart, elated and pulsating with justified confidence, not two minutes ago, now sunk lifelessly to my knees. Had I not been a stronger woman, I would have turned around and left. But this was my life, my dream. This was what I had been yearning for ever since I could stand on my own two feet and this was what I had spent my life striving for and this was what I knew I was going to get. Well atleast until I saw her. What was it in her that I perceived as a threat? What was it in her that almost got me thinking of giving up? I had never faced a situation like this before: I was a fighter to the core; I had been up against better, smarter, richer my whole life and not once had I let that faze me and not once had I backed down. No, I would just push myself harder; push my limits further until everything was at arms length, drawing a thinner line between the impossible every time. Oh, and I won. Always.
I had made myself who I was alone, moulded out carefully each habit, shaped each eccentricity with caution. And I was proud, proud as hell of the way I had risen from being a nobody out on the streets to what I was today. But every hope and aspiration I had built teetered on tonight’s performance. Tonight was my moment of truth. It was what kept me from my ultimate dream. If I got though tonight, I would be surrounded by boundless limitless possibilities. I would finally be able to spit down upon those who had tried to stop me and discouraged me, upon those who had deceived me but most of all, on those who had not believed in me.
Reminding myself of all this once again and resolutely deciding not to let this woman deter me, I followed her into a restroom, determined to some fault, some sign of weakness which I could play upon and use to my advantage. This was a skill I had honed through the sheer hunger to see myself at the top.
Standing next to her, I pretended to be redoing my makeup, all the while surreptitiously staring at her. The more I looked at her clear beautiful face, the more flaws I noticed. Underneath the layers of foundation I saw traces of a life of struggle, the hard lines which were visible even under her cake of makeup, perhaps only to me.
I looked into her eyes. They were mesmerizing, drowning me in their icy blue ocean. The ice in them held the promise to numb you with pleasure or with pain. But it wasn’t their beauty that struck me; it was the grit and determination hidden behind their glazed surface. That same will to succeed which I had so often seen in my emerald green ones, the same greed and the conscience which she had long ago forsaken because consciences are a luxury which only people who have never felt the gnaw of hunger in their belly can afford.
Somewhere, in the vast empty expanse of her hollow eyes, I saw myself.

The battle had yet to begin.

* Lol, apologies , I just lost interest by the end of it. I'll think of a better ending when I actually care enough.