The Picture

I stood there in the museum looking at some of the ancient pictures that hung from the wall. The frames were gold, silver, and ivory with beautiful carvings on them. One caught my eye near the left corner of the hall. It had a gold frame with letters carved into it. They were too small to read and I could only make out a few words. I looked up at the picture and saw a family of three. There was a mother in the left behind the child. She had long red wavy hair and piercing grey eyes. Next to her stood the father. He had short brown hair with glasses. He had his arm around his wife and looked happier than her. In the center of the frame stood the child. She had the same red hair as her mother but longer. Her eyes were a deep green. Her fathers hand was on her shoulder. The way he gripped her it looked as if he was forcing her to be there. While she smiled making the family seem happy his hand almost dug into her shoulder. He looked even closer and saw light purple prints on her neck. The fingerprints matched not the fathers hand but the mothers. And then he realized what he never wished to know.