Will they ever meet?
Art by SITARA V S
- Short story based on art : Parallels
Can they ever be one? 💖
Will they ever meet?
Art by SITARA V S
Without an ‘f’
Life was moulded
And tagged freaks,
Only to taste
The metal chains;
Walked past the lines…
Honesty , the
draped in madness…
*Edited by Neha Menon
Edited by : Neha Menon
She was born like any other child. She was ‘normal’…but as she grew up, tiny wings sprouted right behind her shoulders. Her parents were terrified, and they tried their best to hide her wings from the eyes of the world. They couldn’t hide her ‘abnormality’ for long. The normal people despised her. They advised their kids to stay away from her.
Meanwhile she loved her wings that made her different from the earth creepers. She laughed at them when they called her ‘creepy’.
Her laughter didn’t last for long. Her parents were furious at her unapologetic behavior. ‘Well wisher s’ of the family advised them to chop away her wings.
She was terrified. They were about to destroy that part of her, which defined her.
They tied her to a tree and tried to cut off her wings. Someone from the crowd suggested burning her wings. They set it on fire ;she cried in agony.
The fire burned all that tied her, and she flew high… her wings breathing fire.
All u need is a teddy bear
Laugh all u want
But a teddy’s is the only shoulder.
But if u cry too much on it,
U’ll need a new one soon
Ur sorrows could be more
Pungent than u think
The once sweet teddy would
Grow into a monster
Feeding on ur fears….
U ll need another one
Only if the monster
Fails to eat u up.
She hid the tiny flame
Behind her veil of
Self doubt until the
Flame consumed it
Lighting her soul.
Black ink spilled,
All over my papers.
Drowning in black
I watched the magic unveil…
She always wanted to reach out and feel the light….but they taught her that wanting to see the light and enjoying it wasn’t wrong but wanting to feel it was unacceptable… There was nothing around her that amused her as much as the beautiful dancing flame in front of her… She was so fascinated by the fact that the flame smiled innocently hiding his immense potential to be destructive. She dreamt of the flame…and the dark secrets behind his blinding smile…She never had enough courage to go near him…and she never did…and she never stopped…
She found herself bathed in a pool of thick warm red fluid which she vaguely recognized as blood.
Blood oozed out of the wounds as she was left to die on the street by a truck driver who sped away. She could hear people who had gathered around her, murmuring words of sympathy. No one bothered to lift her up or take her to a nearby hospital. Slowly her vision faded and everything went blank.
She never believed in life after death and right now she doesn’t seem to have an option. She tried to console her mom, tried to talk to the people gathered around her body but no one seemed to notice and that’s when reality struck! She was dead!
She felt confused, if she wasn’t alive then how could she think?!
Charlotte was her name, friends used to call her Charlie. Now everyone referred to her as ‘body’. She was infuriated. Her father was an army man and died for his country. How could people turn a blind eye towards her, the daughter of a brave solider.
She was angry and wanted to take revenge, but then she wondered… why?…What good will revenge do? She wanted things to change but then, she isn’t even alive. How could she change anything?
She was a voracious reader when she was alive. She had read books on ‘ghosts’ who took revenge on the people who were responsible for their death, but she didn’t even know who was responsible for her’s… Was it the truck driver who was to be blamed or those people who stared at her and did nothing while they watched her die. Soon she got bored, thinking about the same thing again and again.
There was nothing she could do to change the past. She had read about ghosts who scared people who walked around at night. She figured out that it would be much easier to scare people and pass her time and when she gets bored with that she could find something else… like revenge…
She was slowly falling in love with her ‘life after death’. she would do things that was forbidden to her,just because she was a girl. When alive, she feared walking along the streets at night, alone. Now she could scare those who once scared her.
She stood near the passage and waited eagerly for her first prey. When alive, she was the prey and being the predator she was thrilled to bits.
She never intended to escape. All she wanted was to see the outside world once in a while. She knew that it would be impossible as long as she was locked in the smelly old room. The room was painted white, but the stains all over made it look ugly. There was a door that was always locked. She wondered why they even bothered to have a door when no one opened it. There was a small rectangular opening at the bottom of the door through which her food arrived. She couldn’t remember who brought her into this dingy room. In fact she couldn’t even remember who she used to be. She recalled people calling her a witch, she knew that most of her neighbors thought she was mad. There was nothing that she could do about it and it certainly was not her fault that others failed to see what she had seen.
Her grandmother had given her a box and asked her to destroy it, but being a curious vibrant girl, she set out on a quest to find its key. When she finally got what she was looking for, she didn’t have the slightest idea that her whole life was about to change.
She opened the box and found an old sheet of paper – it was a picture of a window. It was more like a window made of paper. The picture was so perfect that when she framed it against her wall, it looked like a new window. Soon she found out that, it was a window to another world. She could only see it, but could never go there.
When she tried to tell her friends about it, she was tagged a freak. Her family thought she was playing pranks on them. Slowly she retreated to herself. She made friends of the weird people with blue eyes she met on the other side of the window. Her parents were worried : they took her to psychologists, tried to give the best treatment they could. Failed and depressed, her mother died and father became a drunkard. They called her schizophrenic. She was not sure, what that meant. One day, while she was talking to the blue-eyed lady through her window, her father barged in and threw the picture on the floor. The glass shattered and he burned the picture. She went hysteric throwing -things at her father. The rest was all a blur. She remember blood, her father on the floor, siren and screams. She woke up in the dingy cell with stained white walls and a closed door.