Not your girl next door!

As I lay to rest, she walked into my room. I was surrounded by beige walls and burgundy curtains, not a thing familiar about it. No memory of me reaching there, and, no memory of the woman walking towards me. I met a stranger. The woman had an affectionate smile that passed assurance. She understood my confusion, I could tell. Her hand reached out to caress my cheek, a familiar touch. I met a stranger. She looked around the room, searching for memories. Was she lost, too? My hand attempted to get her attention, but, refused to lift. My failed endeavor made her smile grow fainter. Paleness and hurt overcame. I met a stranger. My mind couldn’t comprehend why my incapability hurt her. Did she know me? Could she help me out of here? She used her palm to hold up mine, leaning towards me, she whispered, ’I am here for you, maa.’ But, I had met a stranger. I used all my energy to pull away from her. I was scared and confused, and, I could see her sense it in my eye...

He had soft uncalloused hands for someone his age. He was 89 with the childish innocence of an 8 year old, and the spontaneity of a toddler who did not hesitate before letting out a chuckle. My last memory with him is of me sitting beside him while he lay in bed, with his eyes closed, while I gently stroked his hands, attempting to reassure him that the suffering would be over soon, wondering whether or not I truly believed that. Both of us, him and I, needed the faith to believe that he'd be better soon, be able to remember faces of his friends and peers, people that he'd met every day, for the past four scores of his life. His memory was starting to fade, but, not his instinct. He couldn't remember names of his visitors, but, he had a smile across his face when his son walked in. His saviour was here. He trusted the eyes of his son, forever strong and caring. He believed that love could heal his pain. What he couldn't see was the fading faith in his son’s eyes....

Every time I see your eyes glare at my breasts, I feel like I don't exist. Every time you pass lewd statements at me when I walk across from you, I feel soulless. Every time you pretend you accidentally fell on me, I wish I didn't have that chunk of flesh on my body that excites you so much. Every time you grope my breasts and run off before I can set my eyes on you, I lose a part of my existence.  I was born different from you and I took pride in it until I felt your piercing eyes viewing every part of my body without noticing the anger on my face. I took pride in it until you touched me against my wish and I made me dirty even though you were the source of that filth. I felt like I didn't have a mind of my own because I was too flustered to process why your fingers were tracing along my body. Why you were forcing me against the wall and pushing your hand against my breast while you used the other hand to close my mouth, I will not understand. I whimpered in fear and pa...

I turn my head and my eyes search for him. Amidst a hundred people, I see him standing calmly at one corner, weeping silently, looking at his girl walk away from him. He knows I'd stay back in a second but he wouldn't ask me to make that sacrifice for the sake of my embrace, his conscience wouldn't let him do that. Tears roll down his cheeks as I take steps away from him, unaware of when he would see me again. He keeps a brave face and smiles at me, encouraging me to take bigger steps. I move out today. However, I'm not as excited about my life to come as i should be, because I'm leaving my love behind. I'm leaving my father behind. *** The oldest memory that I have with him is of me sitting on his lap, playing with his identity card. I wouldn't give him a minute to change after he returned from work, so that I could have him all for myself, not a single more moment lost. My father is an ordinary man, with an ordinary job, who lived an ordinar...

She looked at him with desire ablaze in her eyes. She could feel herself slowly sink into his turquoise blue eyes feeling weak in her knees as he walked towards her. The rains had just subsided and silence enveloped them as they took relaxed steps towards each other, anticipating the moment when he holds her in gentle embrace. She was wearing a blue dress that day, unaware that it would rain. The dress accentuated her curves justifiably and she looked ravishing despite the distance between them. He knew that the closer he got, the tougher it would be for him to control his longing to touch her lips with his. Her hair was wet and beads of water were falling onto her shoulders, dampening her dress. She looked unerringly as he had envisaged her, with minimal make up and her fair skin having the touch of purity. They had known each other for 6 years now, and, despite guarded infatuations, they never had the courage to pursue what they yearned. But, there was something about that ...

I opened a letter today.   It was written by a 14 year old girl having her whole life ahead of her. She had hopes and dreams like any other her age; to meet the man of her dreams, to marry him in a beautiful ceremony, have wonderful children and for her to grow old with her husband whilst sitting on their porch. Some might say that girl was delusional to expect a life so perfect, but, she believed that these events were bound to happen by the power of the universe. The girl weeps today, cocooned inside the four walls of her room. She hasn’t stepped out since July 17 th , 1999, and, she doesn’t intend to, anytime in the future. She has no reason to leave, everything that reminds her of him is right here. The beige quilt they spent endless nights cuddling in, the scatter of pictures that were taken since the day they first met, all the letters he wrote to her from when he was away, and, in the cupboard laid the uniform he was wearing the day he passed. It was spotted w...

The yellow light lingered in the background while she sat on her bed, frozen by what she had just seen. She was trembling with fear and knew that nothing but his soft embrace could calm her down. She missed him dearly. They had been together for five years now and were head over heels in love with each other. Sure, they had their fights and disagreements, but, they worked on them patiently whilst appreciating each other’s opinions. She had turned 23 last September and he was 25. They had met in College and had clicked instantly. He was her first love and despite her promise to herself to save her virginity for her husband, she made love to him. She had made an informed decision and hadn’t regretted it once. Until today. She looked down at the test again. It still indicated a positive. She was pregnant. She was 23, unmarried and, pregnant. She couldn’t absorb what had happened. They had been careful. Then, how did it happen? She tried calling him, but, he hadn’t picked up. A ...