A Reckless Soul | Captain America ✓

AW DID WE MISS THE PARTY?

"In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was moving over the surface of the waters. Then God said, 'Let there be light'; and there was light: Genesis 1:3

I once gave my life to Jesus Christ and did the whole repenting of my sins. I thought I knew what light was to darkness, and darkness to light. I received tremendous doubts about my faith and God's whole creation of the universe. I believed in Him wholeheartedly when I was a little girl, but as a child, I couldn't make up my mind between cake or ice cream; initially wanting both in the end. Now? Now the latter isn't between cake or ice cream, but rather, light and darkness. Perhaps it may seem I want both. My sinful flesh wants to keep the iniquity of the darkness, but my heart desperately wants the purity of light. Guess I just don't know anymore. I don't know which of the two I put my faith into."

–Words from Audrey's
personal journal

____

WASHINGTON D.C. ART & DESIGN ROOM; SMITHSONIAN MUSEUM June 10th, 2012

AUDREY slid down the bone-chilling air vent, one that sent a tingle of shivers down her spine. Her Italian, black leather combat boots hit the polished floor like a soundless creature weaving across unknown territory.

Shadows cast their eerie presence dimly, cascading down from the sparing lights that illuminated downward into the halls as one lone assassin sprinted past the artifacts. The lifeless objects ranged from paper dolls elegantly proportioned behind glass, medieval men jousting, to American Civil War.

The men stationed for battle lined the rails behind another young man controlling a rusty cannon. A stuffed horse bucks up its rear as its rider readies to shoot his pistol, aiming the bullet to the skies. Like bloody hell that's going to do any good, Audrey thought as she ran past the old artifact, slowing in her strides to only take in a quick glance of the item, then off she sped to her destination, awaiting her arrival.

Through the dark halls and rooms, she giddily scurried, attentive, of course, to move as silent as a small rodent. Reaching the Art and Design room, a smirk elevated atop her rose lips. A squirm of feeble caution drove forth in her chest, for not a single guard had infected her journeying through the areas she came across. The single wise intuition of precaution evaded when she brushed off the unusual notion and ambled towards the many paintings mounted on the four walls in the room.

Wandering the room like a hawk, her eyes precisely pinpoint out the painting she wanted, quietly walking over to the beautiful art work.

Edith Jones Wharton; the name of the young girl in the portrait. Edith was the most celebrated American woman and author of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. She was known as the youngest child born to an affluent New York couple.

Edith led an exciting life. Winters in Paris, summers in Newport, Rhode Island, and an array of New York's elegant dinner parties and gatherings.

By the age of sixteen she had written her first novel, had published several poems and developed a taste for 'pretty clothing, extraordinary pictures, and gorgeous sights.' She preferred Europe to New York's intolerable ugliness as she would put it, and spent much of her adult life in France.

Quite a dazzling life, Audrey couldn't help to think, as the Englishwoman scanned over the portrayal and admired the brush strokes and blending of the different colors in the portrait. With careful and sturdy hands, she popped the picture out of its frame. Preparing for an ear shattering alarm to blast, Audrey tensed up for the worst, when suddenly nothing happened. Huh, no alarm? she thought. Her lips twitched in malicious amusement.