Lying down with some memories, dawn it was! Fingers were frisking a way to rub those eyes when curly friezes were tickling her frothy cheeks. Half alive, grabbing the edges of the bed sheet with those heartbeats fluttering in pieces.
An awful nightmare, those were not birthmarks, no cicatrix, it were horrible wounds, she was a fruit last night, they painted the town piece by piece. She still has the shakes, blubbering, the blues in her eyes were begging for mercy. Gawking at the walls, she kept her feet, till the floor could crumble them. Waders saved them out of the fire. Every step she took started featuring those terrible talkies.
Yes, last night, she was served in disposables, four eyes were gulping her innocence, hands were tracing her skin will all flavours. Luscious lips tasted each core of her skin, except those walls, no auricle was admitting her screams.
Obsecrating in the middle portion of the room, where eyes were looking towards the cathedral. Murmuring the same words again and again.
Why me? Dirty me?
She rushed in the direction of the washroom and relaxed the tap for the shower, rubbing each core to be unblemished, unspotted, deep down she was cursing her own soul calling herself “a filthy soul“.
Shaky hands grabbed the bottle full of sleeping pills, her eyes were about to cease with a word “suicide“.
A terrible fall, on the spur of the moment the bottle was lying on the floor, broken. All those pills were missing from the bottle. She took the pills in both hands and crushed them in the palm. Fingers reached for the laptop to reveal the marbles behind those scars on her body.
A note to herself? Not actually. This was not for her, this was for every girl. She turned on narrating her worst horrible night. It was not a complain. It was not any question, it was not any request, it was no begging, it was nowhere a weak soul, she was potent enough to put forth everything. She passed those lines to every page of the internet, to let the people know so that any girl with a similar state of affairs will not bring up the scenario of sleeping pills. A free soul, a pure soul, no rape can make that purity filthy. Her words tickled everyone’s mind, and those proud sound of applause crossed her ears with the best decision she took, of not preferring “suicide”.
Do you also think that suicide is not the solution and It is the strength to fight the situation that deserves an applause? Let us know in the comment section below!