Yes, I was alone. People were everywhere but I was all alone. I was alone, indeed. These past few days, weeks and months, I was going through a lot of pain and rushing down into hell but nobody’s holding me back, holding me tight and telling me that I could go through this Unscathed.
I had wept in despair. I stepped into my room and it was like going down the drain. I went numb....empty. It was dark and cold. Who turned off my beautiful lights? No windows adorned my pitiful room. My walls were painted in black and the floor was filled with blood. My own blood.
I felt like I had descended in to a dark womb. I drowned myself in frailty, distress and insurrection. I was desperate of other’s pity. I took in the sweet misery of my little room, no more than horrible coffin of disgrace and self-disgust.
But the deeper the cut, the more force needs to apply. Go on! Bleed until all my blood has been drained. Bleed and bleed some more! As more crimson spills, I shed less tears. I knew I’ve done this before. So why did I feel a stinging sensation? Had it been that long? These cicatrices were my ultimate artwork, the bitter ecstasy beyond comparison. I wanted some more…
The reason of being depressed? I honestly didn’t know until it was too late. I knew why. All of them didn’t. I just wanted to be blind and deny my existence as part of somebody else’s lives!
I was so tired of this turbulent storm, sucking me, drowning me into an endless dark hole. Did anybody hear my scream?
I slowly dragged myself from the bloody floor and crawled toward my filthy bed. I heavily threw my aching body on it and stared at the ceiling. I began envisioning myself as a woman wearing a purple dress, pitiful and mourning. Beside me, was a violin virtuoso playing for me. Like my inflicted sadness, the violin strained a melancholic note, misplacing a note or two. Yet I smiled my smiles, I listened to the songs the virtuoso played.
And as the notes soared out, I, as the violet woman, sunk in loneliness further, waking up to the obtuse reality of my own stupidity, thrusting my heart like a blade. The virtuoso played on. The pain spread, oh yes! Then, suddenly, lights poured down on me. Mercy upon me! The artiste understood and ever kindly, fulfilled my wish. In one last shrill note, ended the song. Thus, ended my life. And my suffering ceased. The music was gone forever…For everything has to end…dying.
Jolted out of my delusions, I knew my time was running out and I was running out of control. Slow anthem. The rhythm was picking up just these past few years. Six years had gone by in a trance. My good grades were my crutches. Work and expectations met. “A model student”, “Straight A grad”, “Ideal kid”. Thirteen medals and four ribbons. I shut my eyes tightly.
The door opened and he entered. My real illusion began. I went on to my usual trance-like little world. Blackout.
Then I dreamt of a desert. There were crows flying across the barren land. Devoid of life. There were voices calling out to me. They were asking me to join their group. In that desert, beings in black hood robes, called out to me. But I cannot join them. I belonged to the skies. I belong with birds, flying high and as far as they could….
It was just a dream, I realized. I slowly opened my eyes and stared at his naked back. Another night had past and I had survived my real nightmare.
“Mama…wherever you are, please help me. I don’t want to be with Papa anymore…I don’t want to do it with him anymore.”
I cautiously slid down the bed and took a shower. I let the cold water wipe off the mark of his hands on my flesh; heal the bruises of his violent thrusts and punches; wipe off the semen that filled my stomach night after night. God, I want to forget…
Someday…I will be free. Someday, I will see the light and escape from here. Someday, I will fly like a bird in the sky, proud of my colors and spreading wide my wings up it the big blue skies. Someday, it will come true. Someday, my hopes will come true. Someday…
It was my last hope.
My last sparkle in life.