She sat at the back of the taxi, staring at the pedestrians
in a fuzzy blur as the car moved on. Tears running down her eyes, the cab
driver looked at her from his driving mirror and she noticed his uneasiness. They
moved for a couple more minutes and this time he turned but the expression on
her face said, ‘let me be’. She didn’t have to force the tears, they were of
self loathe and disappointment. She wondered how she managed to get herself in
such a situation. She looked up to the heavens and prayed for relief; relief from
the pain in her body and her mind. She popped two 600g painkillers and felt a
sullen buzz overtake her pain. She gave a huge sigh of despair, reached into
her handbag and grabbed a handkerchief.
She remembered the illusion she lived in a few months
ago. Everything was just so right and perfect, she should have known that
happiness doesn’t work like that. Nobody get’s lucky like that. She could go
anywhere, buy anything. A woman of her own, and then she did the one thing that
broke her and then put her together again. How can it be, that the one thing
that destroys you is the motivation that makes you want to pick yourself up,
dust yourself off and get to stepping?
Life hasn’t been fair indeed and it is amazing at the
rapidity of her improvement. She can remember it like yesterday, pain running
through her, right under her skin. She feels it in her toe nails, in the flesh
under her feet, all the way up her calves. A world of torture, a disease stuck
somewhere dark, hidden from light but still reachable in the sub consciousness;
bringing with it all its darkness and emptiness. Why can’t it be removed, it
can only be reached as a reminder, but it refuses to go away. She put her
earphones on and listened to some upbeat music, trying to take her mind off
that dull achiness but then, her favourite song comes up and the tears run
down, unsolicited, uninvited.
She kneels down at the edge of the bed, clutching at
the pain. Wishing it to go away, heaven is nowhere to be found. Heaven’s gone
for now. This is real, this is true. Pain inconceivable, pain never imagined. She
screams for Heaven’s mercy and wails her pain out. Tears flowing from her eyes,
mucus running down her chin, hate in her eyes. Hate for herself, for responsibility
of the pain she feels, for the inability to return the pain pound for pound. She
believes she’s a good person, why would such blind cruelty be measured to
someone with a good heart, good intentions. She sighs calmly, she’s run out of
steam and her pride refuses her another drop of tear. She pops another 1200g
doze of drug and returns into a fuzziness.
She starts out of bed, picks herself up from bed gingerly
and stands on the bathroom scale. I wonder she can’t achieve this kind of
weight on a usual day. She smiles as she admires her form. She has lost weight
due to stress and she’s on her way to an early death but she is quite happy
about her weight. But then a jolt of reality, this is not how she should weigh.
Tears start flowing down again; uninvited, unwanted and she crouched down on
the scale and pulled her knees to her chest. She rocked back and forth and
watched the tiling on the floor. This time the tears didn’t last long. Just trickles
of regret and unwanted memories. She gave a calming sigh and went back to bed. For
the first time in two months, she fell asleep; the commencement of new


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