No one could have ever guessed the wonders of her life--or the horrors. To many she was a deaf beggar, but in reality she was neither a beggar nor deaf. Life was cruel to her. That is all.
Soldiers healed fast. She knew from experience. But the wounds on the inside took more than just a day, no matter how cold-hearted one was.
Before the battle, everyone had been moving to the battle grounds, arranging and equipping themselves with the most deadly weapons they could find. This was 58 years ago, when Helene was 24.
But the Athenians attacked too early. What the Spartans had thought was a hidden cliff side was apparently a well-known spot to the Athenians. Soldiers without weapons died.
The athenians shot and foot soldiers attacked on ground. Many fell off the cliff. Yet blood spilled and cries could be heard miles away.
The people who had died that night were among many of Helene's best friends. Helene was the only one to survive--just barley.
Her arm was nearly cut of and she was limping, blood spilling out of every possible spot. She was covered in red, head to toes, as if someone had dumped her in red paint.
Helene was then taken as a war prisoner. She was turned into a slave. A slave without an arm, as a matter of fact. Her leg had healed, but her arm was still at the cliff edge.
Helene clearly remembered the day that she was cursed by the gods. They had brought her down and Athena, the very goddess ha loved and supported all her life, had cursed her.
Zeus sat upon his throne, grimacing as yet another Spartan woman was cursed.
Hera, on the other hand was feeling sad that these poor woman was cursed, but yet happy as this meant less women for Zeus to fall in love with.
Athena had cursed Helene to be the lowest of lowest--a slave. With no way out. Stuck, for her whole life, plus becoming ugly as she grew.
"What have I done to deserve this?!" Helene yelled at the gods. "Tell me, what have I, what have they, what has anyone done to deserve this?"
"Enough!" Athena's voice booed across the pantheon. "You shall never speak from now on, and what you write shall be reversed!"
Helene tried to speak. No voice came out. Dead silence filled the pantheon. She cried, for the first time. In her life, as the Athenians put her in the worst group of people they could find.
They brought her to the market. They crossed the streets and delivered her a list that was so long and stretched for as far as the eye could see. There was nothing Helene could do but nod.
There were any, long, hard days following for Helene. As she worked for them for 58 years, and her other arm felt like it could break off any second.
She was skinny and never experienced any form of love, abandoned and hated and disgraced for the rest of her life.
It was late evening, when Helene would make herself dinner. She sat around the fire outside. She had nothing but her clothes and food. No shelter.
Well, a little bit, if you count the edge of a roof.
A shadow around the house twitched. Helene's hart beat with fear. There was something slithering about in the grass, hissing heads all at once. It was coming closer...and closer...
and yet even closer...
Hissing thundered in her ears, and she turned around, starting at more than one set of beady black eyes.
Not many people get to see Medusa's eyes. And no one has lived to tell it, for Medusa's stony gaze turned people into stone.
She was most hated on Athens, since the reason why she got her snake head was by not pleasing Athena. Greatly. Very largely and catastrophically perhaps.
Meanwhile, Helene froze with fear and realised she was feeling cooler...and cooler, the chill moving up her body until all went black.
But not before seeing a grin spread across Medusa's crooked, hated face.
Helene had lived a long life.
And it was one she hoped she never had to live it again.