Eve

Eve was the first woman created by God by a single rib of Adam and the miracle of His work. Eve was the first woman to ever be deceived by the Devil in form of a serpent to eat the forbidden fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. She persuaded her mate to do so, stating that it would bring them wise. Of course, it did not, but instead banished them from their home in the Garden of Eden and to fend for themselves. This made Adam and all his descendents after him to survive the cursed land "by the sweat of his brow". Eve and her descendents would go through painful childbirth. Eve, the mother of humanity.

The picture I hold in my hand could be Eve. She is beautiful. This woman, in the photo holds a fruit cupped in her small hands and looks as if she's offering to somebody to take one bite. Just like what the actually Eve did to her Adam. Her expression is a simple smile looking as if she is waiting for some sort of gesture or answer from anyone who is willing to listen. Her eyes look as if they twinkle in the daylight. There is so much more than meets the eye with this woman. I certainly didn't know Eve, but I did know this woman. I knew her once, but over ninety years ago.

Her eyes were a hard green, like emeralds, that did in fact twinkle when you looked through them. Her nose petite that fit perfectly with her face. Her skin was fair and smooth and white, although it did have a little tan tint to it. Her hair was brown with a bronze shade like her son; and of course, her smile would make anyone rejoice. She had a way of touching people's hearts and reading them, as if she knew what happened in their lives, and she would try to fix it. Her son passed this down, since he can now read the minds of others.

She's gone now, just like Eve. When Eve was the first woman and mother of humanity, Elizabeth Masen was the first woman to ever look through me and give me my 'son'.

I remember that day I saw her for the very first time. After a while, I grew on to them, checked on them twice a day, sometimes three if there was time. I worried constantly over them, especially when they were getting worse. I remember Elizabeth being in worse shape than her son; she was busy worrying about her son which weakened her body, but not her soul. It was as if her health did not matter. She wanted him to live.

One night, I finally had forced her to lie down since she was once again sitting on the cold floor next to her son's cot. She held on to his hand, rubbing it softer. Coming from behind, I assisted her to bed, and surprisingly I did not startle her. Too weak to get up, she allowed me to carry her. That moment, I did not care if she felt my hard, cold skin. She was a feather, and I knew already that she was losing weight due to lack of nutrition. With the influenza, many have lost their appetites or just could not hold anything down. One cough gave her the shivers all over. She was dying, and needed all the rest she could get but refused to listen to anyone's advice.

Of course, aside from the physical context, she too wasn't mentally stable either. Her husband just died during the first wave of this influenza. He never gained consciousness and was scared that her son would go the same way. I can't blame her now; I wouldn't want to bury my family either.

As I checked on Mrs. Elizabeth Masen, she had turned for the worse. Her breathing was labored and she was shivering severely from the cold. Her skin was transparent like a ghost, the tint gone from her beautiful skin. But her eyes didn't look weak, when she glared at me from her cot. The eyes haunt me still to this day. She startled me.

"Save him!" she commanded me in the hoarse voice that was all her throat could manage.

All I said was, "I'll do everything in my power." It was a promise; I would do everything I could. I took her hand. The fever was so high, she probably couldn't even tell how unnaturally cold mine felt. Everything felt cold to my skin.

"You must." She insisted, clutching my hand with enough strength that I wondered if she wouldn't pull through the crisis after all. Her eyes were hard like dark emeralds. "You must do everything in your power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward."

This frightened me and surprised me. Had she really seen right through me? Did she know my secret? To this day, I wonder if she really saw me through me. I usually argue, Of course she knew, why else would she say this? It will always be a mystery. I can never ask her; I can never die due to the immortality. I must stay on this earth till the end of time and her body is somewhere six feet under in the city of Chicago and her soul in heaven looking down.

She died within the hour of making her demand. But her body was not at peace, another surprise to me as a doctor. A human's body usually came to peace once their body was out of misery, but not Elizabeth. It was far beyond that. Her face was not peaceful, not in death. She would not rest until her son was saved, until I saved him.

The words, her words echoed in my head. Did she really want this for her son? For years, I pondered the thought for a companion, and Elizabeth made that clear to me. So, I obeyed her command. However, it wasn't just because of her command that I saved her son, Edward. I have always questioned if I should make a companion. I wanted someone to understand me, know the real, true me and know the way of life I live. And so I tried it.

This woman, this beautiful woman in this photograph was willing sacrifice everything so her son could live.

As the old saying goes: pictures say a thousand words. This particular picture, fragile, fading and yellowish holds much more than memories, it holds stories that are untold. Why did she decide to pose like this? She could have simply stood there holding a flower or nothing at all, but decided on a fruit. A message perhaps, showing her purpose? A premonition? Edward doesn't remember his mother so he can't pass down the stories behind this woman. He gave me this picture for reasons I don't know. He insisted on letting me have it, and I could not deny him; my son.

This picture is so faded that she is barely seen in this picture, but I can still make it out. It's mysterious, because she looks the same just like she did in the year 1918 when the Spanish influenza hit. Young, youthful, promising, kind and gentle like her soul and most importantly: beautiful.

To me, Elizabeth Masen is Eve; it would make perfect sense this picture is showing that God was showing off when he created her. She gave me her only child, and made sure that he would live his life, to carry on the name, even if it did mean only existence. She did not care, that was a mother's love. That was the real definition of Eve, and I actually met her.

~Fin~