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Tuesday, July 6, 2010


Not again.

She thinks as the slow and steady trickling tears dampen her pillow. The night has engulfed everything in darkness and the moon has cast its shadows on the curtains.

“Why me?” She asks in a wretched whisper lost in the all-encompassing silence.

Downstairs there is a slight thumping. Audible music and laughter. “They are at it again,” she clenches her teeth suppressing a sob.
“Why am I different?”

The door creaks open. “Is she asleep?” A girl’s amused voice.
“Yeah, I think so. I saw her mugging up for her final paper the whole night.” A chortle.

She wants to scream, say it is not that way. “But what is the use?”

“Miss Goody Two Shoes, Miss…” A familiar chant reverberates in her ears. From down memory lane, pictures of her childhood move like a slide show before her: a frail sickly child, nose buried in books…She hears voices that won’t let her forget… “A very good girl,” “A well behaved child, “Best student”….

“No!” She wants to yell out but her voice is just a whimper.

“Why can’t they let me be?” She tries to control the exquisite quiver of anguish that runs through her body.
“Am I the only one to blame?” She is furious now. Her breathing grows more laborious.

Rules, yes, rules did this to her. Rules at home. Rules at school. Rules in the society. Suddenly she hates her family, her friends and she hates herself. For complying. For not breaking the rules. For accepting unquestioningly. For not being brave enough.

A click.

Light streams into her half-closed eyes. “Are you sleeping?” A voice. She does not answer, pretending to be asleep.

“Leave her alone,” another voice.
“She is queer, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, a sad little thing, but then she has the best brains. One up against us, right?”
“Hmm…I agree. A poor little thing. But can’t blame her too. You know what the world can do to people but daresay she isn’t affected.”

She holds her breath till the retreating steps are out of hearing.

“I don’t need your sympathy, damn you! I hate you! I hate you all!” She almost blurts out but controls it by biting her lips.

“This will be the last,” she is determined. Tonight she would end it all.

She looks at the empty bottle of sleeping pills on the table and relaxes.

The clock strikes midnight.

Drowsiness slowly creeps into her eyes. A gentle languor overcomes her tense body. Her eyelids close.
Then she finds herself in a different world. She is with the others, lots of them- having fun, laughing, whooping, dancing.

Back in her room, the moon light streams full on her face. A slight smile plays on her lips as she escapes and slips slowly into the unknown depths of her beautiful dream, for eternity.

Downstairs the music blares loudly. There are more shrieks and laughter.

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