I DON’T KNOW ENGLISH VERY WELL. I JUST WANT TO IMPROVE IT.
I’M NOT A WRITER.
IF YOU SAW A MISTAKE, LET ME KNOW.
Eli touched her own hair or rather remnants that left from it. The hair was cut very short, maybe 2 cm. The gold medallion still hung on her neck. She touched it, bringing back unpleasant memories.
“Do you think that we are thieves, Miss?” Mocked her the young policeman, standing aside. “Leave it for yourself.” Eli didn’t look at him. Her head was lowered and hands were in fists. She knew that he took a pleasure from her humiliation. Just the sound of his voice made that her blood boiled.
No, you aren’t thieves. She thought, tightening fingers around the medallion, leaning against cold wall in her cell. You are butchers. The medallion, although it was a token, it was a purchased item, but hair… hair is something intimate, personal. It was like someone stuck knife in her chest, trying to get out her soul.
“You’ll suffer a curse.” She murmured. Then her eyes rested on lying close to her book. She raised it, carefully looking at the cover.
Antigone, Antigone, Antigone, Antigone, Antigone… – She repeated in her mind.
Suddenly she took lying on the ground stone. The stone made an unpleasant sound, in contacting with uneven base.
“Eli died tonight. Igone was born.” Proclaimed the inscriptions, writing on the wall.