The Curse of the Mysterious Lady of Shalott

The Lady of Shalott stood still, her figure illuminated dimly by the setting sun dropping below the sky. Her long, red-golden hair fell upon her back in heavy, curling tendrils. Her eyes that shone in the last glints of light were a vibrant, sparkling blue that were hooded with long, dark lashes.

Her face was small and fine featured, with defined cheekbones that were flushed with a slight tinge of red. She had a small, curved nose and full, arched lips the color of a dark pink petal of a flower. Her petite figure was clothed in a flowy white dress that had a thin rope of gold tied around her slim waist.

She walked slowly toward the river, her small, pale feet crunching the frail leaves underneath her. She stopped close to the water’s edge to stare at the boat of dark wood floating eerily next to the edge. She shifted her gaze toward the castle of Camelot that was outlined high in the darkening sky. The many torches from the castle reflected in her pale, blue eyes, that widened every second, as she knew she must go confront her death.

Against her own will, she is pushed onwards toward the little row boat by the powerful force that is her curse. She laid with her back pressed against the cold, hard floor of the boat. Looking up to the stars that had begun to appear. She gazed into the warm light of those stars, and closed her eyes in acceptance. The boat was slowly pulled down by the lulling river to the castle of Camelot.

When the boat bumped gently against the shores of Camelot, Lancelot, his silver armor twinkling in the light of his torch went to look in the boat.  His shoulder-length, coal-black hair fell around his face as he looked upon the Lady of Shalott. 
Her pale skin and white dress contrasted greatly with the velvety blackness of night that now surrounded Lancelot and her body. Lancelot placed his fingers against her eyelids and closed them. His face looked truly sad at such a beautiful loss as he lifted her lifeless body from the small vessel and carried her to the castle.

Later on, a small service was held for her, and then she was laid into a grave that was among many others. The grass above the graves was dead. It seemed such a lifeless place to lay the once colorful Lady of Shalott.