In front of me was a blank page with a tiny cursor flickering on my laptop screen. My mind just refused to think of anything. I gave up and shut down the laptop frustrated. My last two novels have already been rejected and with this one I just can’t think of anything further, my mind’s exhausted. I looked at the dismal rain, pouring myself a glass of red wine. My life has been really unpredictable. Just a year ago I had a happy family and today I stand here all by myself sipping wine in absolute gloom. A power cut in this weather is no surprise to me. I got to find myself a torch now, my house has been such a mess; I just don’t feel like doing anything. Grabbing the wine bottle I headed towards store room. The door creaked I don’t remember oiling it anytime sooner. I managed to drop a carton from the shelf as I dabbed my hand in darkness. I turned on the torch and found hundreds of photos and albums spilled on the floor. The first thing I set my sight at was a picture of me and my ex-husband in a jungle safari. A smile embraced my face accompanied by tears rolling down my cheeks as my fingers brush past our faces. My legs felt weak, I could no longer remain stood so I sat on the floor with pile of pictures. Some were from my childhood the day I was born, me as a toddler, the day I took my first steps, when I uttered my first words, etc. There was a picture of me crying, I remember I had a fight with someone and I accidently wounded myself. And couple more photos from prize distribution ceremonies, class photos and annual functions. I also found dried roses lay pressed inside a book titled “If I could tell you” that was my husband’s favorite of all my writings. For a while I sat there just reminiscing all our memories, I could no longer hold back. I had a break down.
To be honest I don’t really remember anything after that about last night. I woke up to the morning cold breeze pushing my hair away from my face, lying on the floor. It was Christmas Eve and as I tried to lift myself up I noticed the broken glass pieces which pierced my feet. I was bleeding and the wine was spilled all over the floor. The blood brought me the trauma of my miscarriage and I felt a panic attack creeping in. I began searching for my pills, breathlessly. Though my psychiatrist asked me to stop their consumption and attend therapy, I refuse to do so. They’re must for my survival now. My fridge was all empty, not even a chunk of bread for breakfast, I guess I have to step out for grocery shopping.
Everyone looked at me with suspicion, I heard people gossiping about my wound. HAHAHA they must be thinking I’m some kind of psycho killer who’s hiding a corpse in my van. I didn’t bother to explain myself. It’s draining for me; just think whatever you wanna think who cares! Also the construction work nearby gave me headache. I came back within an hour or two and bounced back to my couch stuffing my mouth with hamburger and coke, today was just too much human interaction for me. I dozed off right on the couch, Merry Christmas to me!
I must have slept like a log; I woke up at midnight by the slamming of the store room door. I stepped towards it annoyed, rubbing my eyes. With the creaking of the door, I was taken aback in disbelief, my hands shivered, eyes widened, terror hovered over me. In front of me was a body of a young teenage girl lying in a pool of blood. Her long thick hair covered her face, she was dressed all black as if was about to attend a funeral or came back from one and her right hand ring finger was adored by a diamond ring. I could no longer observe her the blood made me puckish. I rushed to my bedroom struggling to breathe, I felt bloated and restless as I locked the door behind me. I thought of calling someone for help but my phone was left in living room. It couldn’t be true; maybe it’s just my mind playing tricks with me. Was I hallucinating? I need to find my pills! I was completely clueless of where I last kept them. I was freaking out but kept searching, even at places I knew I won’t find it. It was 1:28 in the morning. Ultimately I gave up! The body would soon start smelling, people would report it and I would be arrested for something I don’t have slightest idea about. I need to get out of all this. I can’t…I can’t let my life be ruined so easily. Putting together all my courage I walked straight to the living room. My heart was beating at tremendous rate, with each step I took my mouth mumbled prayers. I held my phone and the only person I could think of was my husband. It ringed but later turned out to be busy. I kept trying, he being my only hope. He might have just blocked me since I used to drunk dial him at times. The door creaked behind me pulling me back to reality. I turned slowly, the body was right there. I moved towards it.” I feel sorry for your demise from the bottom of heart” I tried talking to her, more to myself.” I know you’re around and can hear me. See! I know it’s sad that someone did this to you but you know I’m not the one. Please tryna understand I have to dispose your body. I have no other option, nobody will believe me if I tell them”.
I approached her and with shivering hands cleared her face. She was cold and her face was pale. I could feel her parent’s pain I’m aware of what it’s like to lose one’s child. The body was heavy and swollen. On her wrist was a tattoo which said “It’s not you, it’s me”. I dragged her to my van, carried all the salt packets I had in stock. My hemophobia was tackled with utmost difficulty as I mopped the floor stained with blood. I drove in desperation with sweat dripping off my forehead.” Lord! Forgive me! I’m barring a mother from bidding farewell to her young one.” The road I was driving on looked familiar to me. It was the same on which I drove on in the morning. There was construction work going on there. I kept driving straight. My mind was blank and I was driving all over the city to find a place for her to rest forever. After unknown hours of driving I realized that I was out of the city in woods. I had no idea of time; I had to get back home before the sun rises. I stopped the car in dense woods, looked around if anyone was present. I felt like a criminal doing so, who ever knew my life would take a turn like that and I’ll be the villain of my own story. I dragged her in the middle of the jungle where I disposed her body and read prayers, ”In the name of father, son and the Holy Spirit. I pray to grant her eternal rest. Oh Lord! Let the perpetual light shine upon her. Love always, in the name of Jesus. Amen”. I wiped the tears off my face it felt like I was letting go of my unborn child. I never allowed myself mourn my child’s demise. I was in complete denial all these months.
I drove back home. The store room gave me Goosebumps. I couldn’t sleep at all. With the sunrise I felt my life starting from a clear conscience. I cleared the house and went for shower. I have always been a neat person, I like my things organized but depression turned my life upside down and I became messy both mentally and in my physical space. I turned on my laptop with excitement. I’ll be finishing my best seller today!
As I previewed my story plot, I was wonderstruck as I progressed with each line.
The lead character was an adolescent, orphan girl with long thick hair, fair complexion and blue eyes. She was leading a miserable life in an orphanage where she was loved only by her brother, whose words were inked on her wrist. Soon she was adopted by a couple, who owned all the worldly luxuries but also enemies who were jealous of their wealth! The news of her brother’s demise shattered her. The rivalries plotted her abduction after she attended her brother’s demise.
THE WORDS ON HER WRIST: ITS NOT YOU, ITS ME!
Vanshika Chandolia, 1st Year Psychology Honors Bharati College
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