It wasnt as dark as she hoped it to be, it was a bit tenebrious. She imagined candle lights, scented maybe, maybe some dainty tea lights flickering away in the distance. Instead, she saw a dimming wick of a lamp creating a certain uncertain imagery of a happening that did not possess a definite form yet. She took her next step. The door shut behind her. For a moment she gasped. The moment was over and she couldn’t believe it, that the uncertain imagery of a distant happening had taken over her self so much that she had lost her being in that moment when her hand had reached for the door knob, closing it almost in a vindictive manner. She sighed a relief as soon as she felt her heart race.

The bed wasnt made but wasnt slept in yet. It was decently robed. She hadnt imagined satin but she had hopes for rose petals. Yes, she was a dreamer. Yes, she was a romantic. Yes, she was enticed.
Maybe, in love? Maybe, a devil inside a curious mind? Maybe, a lion inside a rabbit coat?
She made her way to the bed-side table. Books always lured her. There was a certain unorganized stack that drew her attention. She was focussed enough to read and store the author names’ in her unforgettable memory stash as swiftly as a mouse would make way towards its hiding hole on being held hostage in a torch-light. As she glanced and flipped through the pages, a little piece of note, written in ink, not type-written, made its way to her focal point. Her big, black eyes glistened in that dimming lamp light as her curiosity heightened. She pulled the note from under the book and hurriedly opened it. It was indeed self-written in the neatest of handwriting. She read to herself.
Every word lightened up her aura and seemed to glamorize it. She felt light as a feather, with happiness, with enthusiasm to read its contents. She couldnt contain herself, she found herself re-reading it. It was a mere 10-liner. It said all that she had hoped before she walked into that room, during the long walk down the hallway, nail-biting, struggling with her ruffled cardigan and the fluff of the silky mane that made across her forehead and swept across her left eye. Her heart was now racing. A feeling of heaviness sunk her or so it seemed. It was almost like she was sailing away in the wind and now suddenly after the tide had taken over her ship, it had to get buried under, almost sunk under the strength and force of nature.

This sinking was desirable though. She seemed to love it. Atleast her actions denoted that.
She had now a new name. Sacajawea! She had heard stories from history of this character but she refused to attach those stories with her character and that made it all the more mysterious.
Why Sacajawea? Why not, Indiana or Penny or Zoey or Nicole or Rihaana? The thoughts crossed her mind so swiftly that she didnt bother to arrange those names in any particular order or scrutinize their applicability anymore.
She fancied Sacajaweah, moreso, because it came from the note; that note that was addressed to her; the sole maiden who had entered that room; who had accepted its indistinct quality as a magnificient mystery; as a enticing melody; who was ready to float with its rhythm, to embrace and maybe overpower whatever that was holding itself for her.

Sacajawea, she had become. She put the note back on the table and started to button down. She reached for the lace, the ribbons, the buttons were done undone in no time. It didnt take that long to do so, it was never meant to. The idea of clothing had a completely different meaning for this maiden. The flowy robes now lay scattered, there were just a few.

This girl; before she took on to be Sacajawea, had never been the shy gal. She wasnt the one to hide or be ashamed of. She was poignant, she was confident, she was beautiful.
She was pretty and ordinary at the same time. She was truly extraordinary in that sense.
Her self shone like an uncut diamond, its glisten was evident from far and yonder. Her charm was skin-deep. Her smile was charismatic. Her eyes could convey multitudes of emotions, a whirlpool that could mesmerize any weak soul! Her innocence conquered lots of hearts and at the same time, the wittiness of her actions and smartness of her moves won her many awards alongwith a bountiful of men on her side. Not to forget, how attractive she looked. Robed or not, she had a perfect body, not heavily bosomed, but still a perfect number scale, that any man or woman for that matter, would love to cast his or her eyes on, hope to get a chance to drink and cherish its sweetness and thank this nature for its abundance.

She was that wealth that any man would love to possess and hoping not to lose.

That was one of the big reasons she had made it to this room!

To be continued …