AllFreeNovel
Share Us
As I settled down on the sofa, I took in the Parisian décor that surrounded me.
Vintage posters of the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, and Montmartre adorned the walls. Soft jazz music played in the background, blending with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries.
The furniture was chic yet comfortable, with plush cushions in shades of burgundy and gold.
Now, I could finally escape into the world of Greek mythology and focus on Medusa, the snake-haired Gorgon.
In a forgotten corner of ancient Greece, there lived a girl named Medusa. She was known far and wide for her unmatched beauty, her laughter filling the olive groves as she danced under the sun.
But one day, Poseidon, the god of the sea, saw Medusa and desired her.
In his reckless passion, he violated and raped her in the sacred temple of Athena, the goddess of wisdom.
Enraged by this sacrilege and betrayal, Athena cursed Medusa.
Overnight, her silky hair twisted into thousands of venomous black snakes, their serpentine bodies intertwining where her locks once flowed. Her skin hardened to scales, and her eyes turned from golden to petrifying crimson.
Cast out from her home, Medusa wandered the desolate lands, her once joyous laughter now replaced by mournful cries.
Anyone who looked upon her face was turned to stone, leaving behind silent statues as witnesses to her tragic fate.
Alone and tormented by her cursed existence, Medusa hid from the world, longing for companionship but forever condemned to solitude.
As I got deeper into Medusa’s tragic story, especially her assault by Poseidon and the curse that followed, it really hit me.
Her turn from a beautiful maiden into a feared monster because of someone else’s violence felt all too real, mirroring the harsh reality many assault victims face.
Medusa’s story shows how society often treats victims—blaming them and pushing them away instead of supporting them.
It’s heartbreaking to see how she went from being loved to being shunned, all because of something that wasn’t even her fault.
Her tale is a strong reminder of why we need compassion and solidarity with those who’ve been through trauma, helping create a place where victims can find healing and acceptance, not fear and isolation.
After spending three hours hunched over my laptop in the coffee shop, studying for exams, the stress was beginning to overwhelm me. I had to tackle three myths—Medusa, Psyche and Cupid, and Achilles—and write a detailed essay on one of them.
Keeping track of all the details, contradictions, and their relevance to our lives was proving to be a real challenge. To help me focus, I ordered another lavender matcha and a slice of lemon pie, savoring the sweet and tangy treat as I continued to study.
After about thirty minutes of struggling to articulate how Achilles’ myth illustrates that no one can truly avoid their fate—that what’s meant for you will inevitably find you—the beep of my phone caught my attention.
I reached for it and saw that Claire had texted me.
C.C:
Still mad at me?
I rolled my eyes and set my phone back down, refocusing on my computer.
But then it beeped again, signalling another text.
C.C:
Love ur top!
Red suits u sooo well.
Frowning, I glanced around the place, half hiding my face behind my computer.
My eyes landed on a middle-aged man with his back to me, wearing a cap and sipping coffee, a raven tattoo on his hand.
