WON'T ANYONE read my story? Tell me whatcha think. Is it ANY good?

The Woman in The Portrait
No one under quite stands love. It is the one word man is unable to describe and an emotion so strong it can destroy you.
Pirates cove was a island off the deadly cornish sea and held a mystery off its own- as legend had it. Ferocious tales and vicious rumors of treasures lost and found and ships sunk and gone circled this island in a hawk like manner. Yet no legend held greater intrigue then the heart breaking tale of Estella Carlee, the chapel princess and Mathew Laurence, the dukes son and of how- they died for love.
No one quite could figure what had happened to send the beautiful maiden and handsome master of Carlee Chapel to the edge but one thing remained clear-Estella and Mathew had fallen off the Chapels now crumbling bell tower and drowned in the fierce cornish sea. Their bodies had not been recovered.
I on my internship to Pirates Cove was eager to pry in its private stores to know just what had happened- and to discuss the legend the natives seemed most reluctant to discuss. My trip was more of an escape then leisure for i had had a great fight with some one i loved and needed a break. I was walking absently over the chapels exquisite carpets mildly observing its subtle beauty when i ran Smack into a staunch figure.
"Oh I'm sorry!" I cried reaching out to steady the old lady, "did i hurt-?"
I looked up and the words died on my lips.
I was looking into the electric green eyes of an ancient, old woman with silver hair swept upon her head. Despite her antique age she was gifted with classic beauty that had lasted through its battle with time. I knew then as i knew later- She hated me.
And I couldn't imagine why.
"Move!" she hissed and I sprang out of her way in fright.
"Ms. Anastasia!" I turned around to see my plump guide panting forward. "Oh I'm sorry! I lost you in the crowds!," he puffed out.
"Who's that old lady?" I asked him and he winced. "Mrs. Huntingdon the owner of Carlee Chapel. She detests tourists. You mustn't cross her. And now lets now continue with our ramble and see the Chapel Bell Tower"
He lead me to the dying stone tower after what seemed like an eon and said "It was here that the lovers committed suicide. It is said the fates were against their marriage. Many accidents had occurred almost killing them. Finally, accepting a curse that may haunt them forever they accepted death on their own"
"How sad," I thought forlornly."The worst thing in the world is to lose young love..."
It was as i headed back indoors that i spotted a grand circular room. A sign specifically said: "PRIVATE. No Tourists Allowed."
I glanced at my guide. "Now here," he was saying, his back to me " is where Mathew Laurence took his painting lessons. And here-"
I smirked. And snuck into the room without his noticing.
The second I entered the room I was stunned. What i saw there astounded me. A humongous portrait with exquisite detail hung against the wall. In it a beautiful woman with a gust of red hair stared at me so intensely it was as if she had a life of her own within the picture. Through the brush of paint strokes i noticed that although she smiled her, eyes looked sad.
My fingers grazed the Jade irises and it was then when i saw the scribbled message on the portrait.
Dearest Love,
A tribute to your beauty through my own hands,
Mathew.
So this i thought to myself is Estella Carlee. I fingered the message and as i did, something fell from behind the painting. A snap shot. I laughed when i saw what it showed.
Three children played by the coast of Pirates cove. There were two little girls- both princess-like pretty. One had fair, yellow curls and the other fiery-ginger. Grinning teasingly, at them was an adorable young boy with shaggy, brown bangs. I smiled fondly at the innocent, happy faces captured in the picture, when suddenly the door swung open and Mrs. Huntington burst in.
"You!" she roared, her electric green eyes popping "How dare you! Get out of my room! Out! OUT!!!"'
She marched forward but as she reached me, her anger seemed to drain out from her. She looked at me with something that was almost like fear.
"Anastasia..." she whispered "Run while you still can."
"Why?" i asked, startled.
"You don't understand," she whispered, her voice a broken hiss.
"Then explain."
" The woman in the portrait. She will destroy you as she has destroyed others before you. She can't stand love, Anastasia, and she can't stand joy. Run, before she hurts you too."
"Who is she?" I whispered.
"The woman in the portrait is me"
I gasped as she ploughed on. "i know what you wonder. Estella Car lee died years ago. Then how can I claim to be her? I am not Estella, Anastasia. But I am the cause of her and Mathew Laurence's death."
" Three children played on Pirates cove every summer. Estella, the one with the fair hair. Emily, Estella's sister with the red. And finally, the duke's son, Mathew."
" Estella and i were sisters thirty years ago. I am Emily Car lee and it was me Mathew loved, not Estella. It was for me he drew that portrait. Estella was only a childhood friend."
"My sister was diseased. She saw visions. She saw herself and Mathew consumed in passionate embraces. She saw him proposing. She formed in her mind, a dangerous sort of a love- one, that cost the fool her life."
"Mathew was kind. He was sympathetic. He cared for her in his own way. He humored her. I grew jealous. I caused all those accidents. Finally, I pushed my own sister down the bell tower. Mathew, who had once loved me, was horrified by my actions. He...he followed."
The old lady fell against the floor, in agony.
"Do not misunderstand me," she whispered in anguish."I loved my sister. But you have no idea of the pain one suffers, when one you love is ill. I hated that illness for it strengthened her and weakened me. But I loved her, Anastasia. No one could understand how much or how deeply."
I tried to comfort her but she pushed me away. "I still see her in my dreams, falling, screaming my name. I hear Mathew shouting "How could you Emily!" I see him following. Run, Anastasia. Run, for you look so like her. Run, before i harm you too. RUN!"
And so ran, part repulsed, part torn by her tears. I rushed all the way back home until I reached my husband from whom I had stormed away in a fight.
"Anastasia!" He began, surprise and welcome in his voice as I rushed into his arms.
I never forgot my visit to Pirate's cove. Till today, sometimes, amongst the stars I see the sparkle of tears in electric green eyes.
No one understands love. It is an emotion so powerful it can destroy you. Yet, one must appreciate it till they can for life is too short.

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