Two Sides

Her skin weary as a sick crow, the rags fell on her shrinking bones, she was the puppet to this room. They see her through the small hole above, smirking at her misery, her uncanny sounds of cries, her ugly skin that merely sleeps upon her bones. She had been there for ages now, but the crave to seek the sunlight, that peeps through the small window above, never dies. The light comes every day at the very same hour, teasing her of the warmth which she never reckons, she wanted to reach it but the corner, and few paces away seemed like hundred miles to her. Her to reach out the glowing corner every day had given her deep bruises, the ropes which were tied ages ago, still seemed to hold onto herself but despite all that, her crave rises every day as the sunlight peeps in.

Gazing the known reality, the ghost-dark room, and the cold concrete floor, sending shrivels to her bones. She traced her fingers, hard on the cold and rough floor. To and fro. To and fro, her fingertips bled, giving her pain so it forgets the grievances of solitude. Her monotonous face slowly changed as the teardrop she was refusing to let out had fallen on her cheek. Her lips trembled, her skin weary as a sick crow, the rags fell on her shrinking bones, and she was the puppet to this room. They see her through the small hole above, smirking at her misery, her uncanny sounds of cries, her ugly skin that merely sleeps upon her bones. She had been there for ages now, but the crave to seek the sunlight, that peeps through the small window above, never dies. The light comes every day at the very same hour, teasing her of the warmth which she never reckons, she wanted to reach it but the corner, few paces away seemed like hundred miles to her. Her to reach out to the glowing corner every day had given her deep bruises, the ropes which were tied ages ago still seemed to hold onto herself but despite all that she craves rises every day as the sunlight peeps in.

She embraced her own body, leaving traces of blood on her arms, she crouched and dug her face down, between her knees, the soft noiseless sniffs promptly emerged into heavy-breathed weeps. “Why? Why me?” she spoke through her cries and she kept on repeating the same phrase, repeatedly. “Why me? Why….?”  “Why? Why? Why me?”

“What had I done to be a grieving puppet in this room? What had I done to smell my rotten skin? What had I done to sleep on the cold concrete ground? What had done to be in solitude where embracing my own body gives me shrills? What had I done? What had I…?” she screamed through her broken tears waving her bony arms in the air, wishing the person watching me suffer would let me out, either wash her dirt off or at least kill her.

—-

A soft humming sound broke off my sleep, I stretched my arms, as the mesmerizing voices embodied my room, getting rid of the warm blanket I walked towards to the wall with the small whole, hoping to find the lady and her other family members.

I peeped, finding the lady humming as she was arranging the cushions, she had a long, slender body, yet had beautiful curves. She was wearing her blue floral sundress, showing off her back, the line on her back which follows the spine was a pure resistance to blink. She had her dark brown hair tied up in a bun. She was swaying her body, as she hummed, I think ‘Sweet Caroline’ by Neil Diamond was playing the background. Soon her husband came into the room carrying a spatula, asking her to ask something that he cooked, she traced her fingers to some graving and licked it. She nodded with a grin and he walked out of the room, getting his praise. She went on to fold some clothes and the song changed ‘Cracklin Rosie.’

I turned around wanting to make my bed, wishing their life stays monotonous and warm as it has been.

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