Crouched in a dark corner of a forgotten room in an empty house; a child
whose dreams she thought were locked away with her childhood and thrown
into the worldly ocean, into the endless and bottomless sea of expectations.
As if she was misplaced by the gods and then forgotten too.
When you died twelve years ago in the general ward of one of the cheapest hospitals in town, far away in another city a child faced death too; only that hers was of another kind. The kind that recurs over and over – each day. They said that you just stared at the doors, that you were waiting, waiting for something that you knew would never come.
And then you starved yourself to death, a punishment you gave yourself for being deprived of love.
Those who refused to save you, they made her drink poison that night – all in the name of truth. It almost killed everything human inside her. Everything but memories, they can’t be killed can they? She sleep walks every night and is found every morning besides a nameless grave – somewhere in between life and death.
(Note: This is an excerpt from The Abyss – something that’s still finding its shape and form )
© Priyesha K.