I can’t take it anymore. I want to hurt him. I want to hurt them all – every last single one of them. The ones who didn't believe me, the ones who doubted me and the ones whom eventually abandoned me; neglected my existence-left me swimming in the depths of misery, anguish and despondency.
How is it even possible that the people, who claim to love you sincerely, are ultimately the same ones that destroy you; consume your rightful sense of dignity and confound you to perpetual humiliation. They make you feel so worthless and dejected, that you inflict yourself with pain day in day out, in order to make the pain subside. I want them all to weep for me; lament their actions and remorse their callous actions on the day of my burial. Lastly, I want for them to feel anguish; to see them tormented by their consciences. Only then will they question why they didn’t save the pathetic little woman who craved all their love; their attention and security. Because the truth is, without this suffering, they will carry on living their pathetic lives like nothing even happened.
Humanity is so callously narcissistic. A life is never valued unless it brings gain. Mine seemed to be worth nothing.
My own mother betrayed me; she betrayed my trust - my innocence, chastity and the unconditional love that I had for her. She had manipulated me. Forced me into a marriage I did not want to go through with. How could she? How could she do this to her own flesh and blood? She went through rape to conceive me; rape from an arranged marriage and unbelievably, this was what she was putting me through. I followed all her guidelines and commands throughout my adolescent years. I respected her, only for her to mistreat me and enslave me to the very culture that caused her deterioration.
Words cannot describe how I feel of her.
My whole life was a lie; from a young age I was taught to respect honour and devote my love to my mother. But how is it even possible to dedicate love, someone who believes selling her daughter off to an older man is the “right thing to do”? Those were the words of my very own mother. The very one who sold her youngest daughter off for a cheap dowry.
My own mother. The one who vowed that I would not lead the same isolated, fearful, and frightened life as she had done. She has now become the same ‘mother’ I detest. The same mother I look down upon, the same I felt that was inferior, simply because she bowed down to the interests of culture.
'Mother'
To me it had become a shallow, meaningless word; one that simply highlighted the void in my life.
***
The chatters and laughter of the two families filled the room why was everyone so happy as the giggles of excited flower girls which were being ushered in to the dressing rooms occupied the room i stood up and walked slowly towards the slightly angled yet pristine mirror even though i was pleased with my appearance on what was supposed to be the ‘happiest’ day of my life i knew that this was something that wasn’t out of my own choice i blinked off my momentary rage and allowed the woman with the freshly manicured nails to place the thin lace veil over my head i was escorted out of the shabby suite with my sisters who were my bridesmaids and the flower girls as I was coming closer to the wedding hall i could hear loud traditional music blasting through speakers the taste of fear soaked my tongue as the sounds of music and cheers were becoming louder and louder with every fragile step i took i could smell the sweat lingering on my body it lingered beneath the corset that enveloped my trapped soul and body
***
I enveloped myself tightly in my own exposed arms, as I shivered in my own blood bath. I could feel blood oozing out of my pitiable body. As I slowly lifted my throbbing head, the bloody knife which sat comfortably against the side of the bathtub, gazed sharply, deeply and intensely into my pathetic eyes. I could hear the knife imitating me… mocking me… laughing at me. I buried my head down onto my lap, and let the tears steam down my face. A million thoughts raced through my mind, thousands of emotions coursed through my veins, but I could only feel the piercing pain that overwhelmed my black heart. I was told that I was pathetic, I was told I was nothing but a failure, I was told that all of my dreams and aspirations were futile. I let another human being tell me my worth, I allowed another person to crucify me as I delved into a crescendo of insanity and pain. I was simply a burden.
It called to me again, but this time in a gentle, alluring tone. Its faint whispers echoed throughout the unkempt motel bathroom. “Just one more time, you need me… you need me… you want me…” It was like a reflex response. Instantly, I stretched my tender leg out and lethargically lifted up my prize possession, my saviour, my knight in shining armour…The knife pierced into my skin once again, and all the pain, the desolation and despair cleared away in an instant.
// Those who know will understand. Once the stinging pain takes over, your mind becomes lucid to all of the problems that you posses and focuses on the overwhelming sensation //
The bath tub clouded again into a deeper shade of red. A deeper shade of red that I have now become accustomed to.
***
