As the name suggests, this will be my last work in Prose. The past few days were not the best ones in my life. The first mistake was entirely mine. Party Tricks, an article I would never have written if I was in a good mood, that was my first mistake. And the next one, it started yesterday.

A technical error. But the effects it had on me was more drastic than I could ever imagine. I tried to support someone. I tried to do something for that person. But, I had to face something worse in between all this. I first thought I had found a new friend. Later, I understood I was wrong. Still, I tried to be patient and stay calm. But, I lost it sometime. I should never have. It came at a high cost.

Prose. I surfed the internet for weeks to find a writing platform so that I could know if my talent was worth something. Weeks later, after many failed attempts, I found Prose. I was so happy. I wrote. I found new friends. I was filled with joy, only to lose it a few weeks later as it seems now, but I am happy, I found a place where I could be joyful. But no longer. At least not like this.

I thought about it. Finally, I I have reached a decision. I am deleting my profile. But I can’t leave Prose. It means too much for me. So I thought about creating a new account, start afresh. And that’s what I am going to do. So, this is an official goodbye. Some of us might not meet again, talk to each other anymore. But I tell you, you guys will always have a place in my mind. A treasured memory, safe with me, forever. Thank you for everything.

@nonfiction

I shut the door hard behind me. It was so loud that even I was shocked. But, I did not care. Why would I? They did not care. How could they be so cruel? What have I ever done to them? All I asked them for was a bicycle. How hard could it be? They could well afford that. Why are they so rude? No, I cannot tolerate this anymore. I have to get out of here. If I stay here, I will be wasting my future, my life. It is a tough decision, but I had to.

I packed some dresses, books, and my extra pair of sneakers. I put on my bag and walked to the door. I have to do this. I have to let them know my stand. I pulled the door open and stood before them assertively.

‘Whoa! You seem all packed up, honey. Where you off to?’ It shocked me. I was leaving home once and forever, and he did not even care about it. I knew he did not love me. I knew he always wanted me out of his life. But now I was ready. I might not be an adult yet, but I had decided. My life changes, from here, from now, and there will be no looking back.

My mom came out of the kitchen then. She was shocked.

‘What are you doing, peanut?’

I made my voice hoarse. ‘I am leaving.’ I said with all power I could procure.

‘Where to?’

‘Wherever I feel.’

She suddenly ran towards me. I backed up. But, my father stopped her midway.

‘Well, off you go.’ he said.

I lost my control. How could dad do that? Though the bag was heavy, I walked out of my home as bold as I could. I could hear my mom calling from behind. But, I did not look back. I had already decided. I decided not to look back. And I had to stay resolved.

I made my way to the bus station. The hot sun and the heavy bag made me feel so weary. But, they could not shatter my determination. I caught the first bus I saw and took the front seat. With the help of a young lady, I put my bag on the top stand. I was the only passenger in my seat until the next five stops. Then, I had to share my space with a gigantic, old lady.

It was a bit uncomfortable for a few stops. I found myself a little constrained. But the situation only aggravated then. The lady continued pushing, pulling, stretching, and I felt more and more compressed. I tried to move away as much as I could. But the lady was enormous, and I was tiny. I doubted whether she was aware of my presence. I wanted to tell her, but my voice systems seemed temporarily locked.

The circumstances got worse every second, and I had to do something now. I, with all my effort, tried to pull the old lady aside. But, my timing could not be more terrible. The moment I pushed her away, the bus came to a sudden stop. And guess what. I got thrown away from the bus. I flew right through the front glass, as it never existed. Some of the glass pieces flew with me as well. I was in the air for a long time. Then, I landed on the carriage of the vehicle in front of me.

Luckily, it was a mini container truck carrying styrofoam. So what could have been fatal was avoided. But, it did not keep me from the blackout. The last thing I saw was my father running to me faster than light. Even my mother could not gain his speed. But that was it. Nothing more. Nothing less.

I opened my eyes and found myself at the hospital. My hands had a slight injury, but the doctor lady found it quite insignificant. Though, my mom did. She rubbed my hands back and over many times. After a few hours, they let me leave without much medication.

Now I was going home. Somehow, it did not make me feel terrible. Though my decision still rumbled around in my mind, it had lost all its strength and was no longer very attractive. And when I reached home, it disappeared. Because when my dad opened the doors for me, I never expected Ladybug 20030, the latest bicycle model, to be waiting for me on the other side. Ow! There is no better place than at home. Home, sweet home!

Moral of the story: Sometimes, oppression is good. It’s necessary, to be frank. It protects you from things, you know like, getting thrown away. And I am not talking about sharing seats here. I am talking about something way more precious than that, our dad, our mom, our siblings, our family.

#fiction #opinion

I learnt something last night. Whenever you feel sleepy or angry or sad or in any emotion that has a counter effect on your attitude, just stay silent and don't do anything. Because the probability of you doing something stupid tends to one, that is, an inevitable event. 'Party Tricks' was not supposed to be published. It was just the rumblings of a mad mind. I feel terrible that I wrote it and worse, published it. And I am deeply sorry for the inconvenience.

But as everything has two sides, it helped me meet a new group of people. And I consider myself lucky for that, very lucky. Please regard that article to be a part of the horrible mood swings in a teenager. Sorry, all.

As a child, I have tried imagining creative ways to die. I have jumped off roofs. I have sunk in oceans. I have burned to death. Shot. Severely cut. And I was occasionally stabbed as well. There were all sorts of crazy endings. But in all of them, I had a higher purpose. I was to sacrifice my life for my loved ones, to save the world and so and so. But I always died for a reason.

But today, as a 17-year-old boy, I faced the worst casualty in my life. It was not a fight. I mean, I did not even know that guy. He just came out of nowhere and bang! Stabbed in the chest I was. It was very close to the heart. It's fatal.

Let's go a bit backward in time. So, I learn at St Lucius School, located right across the Westminister Cafe, of which I was a regular customer. Mr Parker, who used to run the shop, was very fond of me, I guess. Oh! He seemed like a nice guy. I should have talked more with him when I had the chance.

Well, let's come to the point. So, St Lucius School was one of the best in town. It had brilliant teachers, pleasant atmosphere. It was great. And I would not call myself a genius, but still, I was a member of the Teachers' Favourite Students Group, which I believe exists everywhere in the world where education is possible.

So you see, I try and procure as much hate as I can from my classmates. Though I was a bit to the nerdy side when it comes to learning, I was a total failure when it came to attitude. I was a bit too hyperactive, talkative, and everything that a nerd isn't. So you see, I did not belong to the nerd group as well. They considered me useful for doubts only, not the friendly type. And I am still not clear what a friend means in their definition.

So, I found myself rather alone for a few weeks. Then, as it occurs everywhere, I found my team at long last. There were half nerds, idiots, artists, psychopaths and everyone who doesn't belong anywhere else. They only belong together. I found the rest of my days filled with joy and laughter. No meaning. But I still enjoyed the company. It was a relief. But they were not among the ones who I wished to be with me till the end.

Although I tried recruiting new members to the team, they also did not seem to fit. There were a lot of leaving and entering for a few weeks. Then, it kind of acquired a stable state. But still, I was not satisfied. That's when I met her.

Rebecca. That was her name. Somehow, I found her to be very different from the members of my current team. She was different. I found myself to be very happy when I talked with her. I no longer found satisfaction in my old company. It was torture. I would watch her the whole time the stupid conversations go on. I desperately waited for the breaks.

Weeks passed by. And our relationship grew stronger. And I never found myself happier. Was this love? I asked myself. No matter how hard I tried to wipe that question out from my mind, I could not avoid it.

I could no longer talk to her like I used to. I found myself to be tensed and nervous when I talk. I ran out of words. I sweated. Me who desperately tried to grab her attention now proactively tried not to let her know my presence. I avoided her at times.

That was when I faced the next challenge. So, our class consisted of my team, the nerds, the silent, others and the useless. But, there was another prominent team which I always used to avoid. Though I found vague similarities in my attitude with theirs, I was sure I did not belong there. Because they were not the ones, nobody found them comfortable. They were strange. They were angry. They were the ones from who children ran away in horror.

But last week, their two representatives came to me. They wanted to discuss a serious topic. When I tried to go away, they held me by the collar and pulled me back.

'What do you want from me?' I asked.

They only smiled. Leaning a bit, the taller one said 'What is between you and Rebecca?'

"Nothing, we are just friends.' I tried to sound confident.

'Just friends?' asked the other one.

'Yeah, what more do you expect?'

'We expect nothing more.' They laughed terrifically and went away. I became paralysed.

What do they want from Rebecca? Why did they ask me about our relationship? I was confused. It was more stress than I could take. Should I tell Rebecca about this? No, no, I shouldn't. It would make her tensed as well. I had to solve this alone. And for that, I needed a plan.

I tried to formulate a plan all night. The nights of the following days also took me through the same procedure. But I was blank. I did not even know what they want. Then, how am I supposed to do anything against it? I didn't know how, when, why, what, where and who. I realised that I would fail if I try and do this alone. But, no one in my team seemed right. There was no other choice. I would have to tell Rebecca about this.

So, finally, Friday arrived, that is today. I left home early since I had a lot of urgent things to do. As fast as I could tell her about this, the better it would be. It was cloudy in the morning. The rain, last night, had left its marks behind. I had my raincoat on and my school bag on my shoulders.

I decided to walk past the alley to reach the school faster. Regrettably, that was the worst decision in my life. I did not even look straight while I walked. I kept my head down, deeply immersed in thoughts. I planned how to present the topic to Rebecca. I could not make her too tensed.

Suddenly a man ran against me, by my side. He nearly pushed me down. As I was recovering from the fall, I found a second guy running against me. And this man had a knife, in his hands and he was not at all in control of it. The next few moments were too quick to perceive. I was still trying to regain balance, the guy, with the knife, was desperately trying to stop on his tracks. But we both failed in our respective missions.

The result was bitter. I found myself down on the ground, the knife guy upon me. I felt acute pain in my chest region. When my hands reached my chest, a knife was perpendicular to its surface. I glanced at my hands, and all I could see was red. The knife guy stood now, utterly confused. He has just killed a boy. But, I was still moving. 'Should I save him? Should I not?' All those questions went through his mind. But, I could no longer stay awake. I was dying. I could not even warn Rebecca. I could not even say goodbye. Only one thought persisted in my mind. I love her.

It was almost dusk. The room was unfamiliar. I could see a basket of fruits in the table beside me. I still felt pain, and when I checked, I found my chest filled with bandage and plaster. A sudden realisation struck me. I am not dead.

Not dead. I breathed heavily.

'Hey, don't stress out.' I heard a voice. It was so familiar. It was Rebecca. She was at the door now. She came close and sat beside me. "How do you feel now?' She asked.

'Better'. I found it difficult to speak. The regret at my near-death aroused in my brain. I should not wait anymore. I should tell it.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, my mouth began to speak, though I had not asked it. My brain was overwriting my body. 'Rebecca, I think I love you.'

There was a moment of silence, and she broke it with a peal of laughter. But it was not a laugh out of humour, but one out of something strange. She just kept looking at me then. And I could do nothing but look back. Millions of emotions ran around my brain. Was this love? I don't know, maybe it is.

#fiction #opinion #maybe_romance_as_well

As much as I would love to say, heart, his literary brother brain prevents me from doing so. Well, biologically, he is right. So, I am helpless. The heart is an organ which pumps blood throughout thy body, says Google.

Love. It’s the purest emotion. And I am still unclear on the word choice right there. Why is it pure? Why can’t it be the most beautiful one? Why can’t it be the most emotional one? I am finding it extremely difficult to adjust with pure.

Well, as a Science student, let me consider the scientific aspect of pure. A pure substance is something that contains only one type of particles, again says Google. And upon derivating, we can conclude that it might not hold anything else but love. No hatred. No anger. No distress. No sadness. Nothing else but love. Now that makes some sense.

But now, as a human, let me consider the experience side of love. I have found most of my friends to be lovers. Yes, I am a teenager. And quite wonderfully, I found a mixture of emotions in every one of them. So, Science seems to collide with Psychology here. Now, this is taking forever. So let’s try to conclude, shall we not?

So, we have considered various aspects of love. And each one of those gave us different answers. So, let’s conclude that love is related to a very famous expression in Mathematics. It is not defined. More correctly, it is for you to find.

#nonfiction #opinion

Alisha stood up and looked around. She could see a building on the far end of the ground. But, the structure seemed a lot different than in her memories. Nature had engulfed it, or what left of it. The building was so familiar for her. It was her home.

She could not understand what was happening. She tried to recollect what happened. But, all she could remember was her falling. What happened then? Suddenly, a horror consumed her mind.

“ASHLEY, DAD, MOM, Ash…” She ran towards the building. She could not even imagine what happened there. Was she dreaming? But, it all felt so real. She pushed open the front door, and it fell apart. She called out again, but all she could hear was her sound reflecting from the walls.

She fell on her knees and cried. She did not know where her family was. She did not even understand how her home could transform like this. She was bewildered. She did not know what to do next.

#fiction #opinion

21 July 1840

“Mom, have you seen Alisha?”, a small girl, nearly awake, desperately trying to stay straight, asked her mom.

“No, Ashley. You slept with her. She might be in the bedroom.”

“She is not there. I checked.” Her drowsiness was evident in her voice.

“Then, she might be in the garden, honey. Now, go brush your teeth.”

The busy mother could no longer tolerate her intervention. She was a very tall lady, nearing her fifties, but her age was not all evident from her demeanour. She was highly conscious of maintaining her features.

Being a lady of Science, she faced appreciation and criticism to the far extremes. But she always managed to stay resolved.

Their family was quite famous for generations. But, distinct from the category of fame most families belonged to, they proved their excellence in Science.

Henry Beckenbov, seemingly the last Beckenbov that will walk on the Earth, was determined to marry a lady of Science. It took him 35 years of his life to finally accomplish his dream. The particular reason for this chapter in his history was that Henry lacked certain key genetic traits from his predecessors.

As a child, Henry excelled in History, but he always found Science to be his worst nightmare. The concepts of forces and energies horrified him in his nights. But, exceedingly proud of his lineage, and blessed with the curse of being the single child, he was desperate in staying on his decision.

And then, in December of 1818, Henry’s eyes finally met with the woman in his dream. Her name was Elizabeth Turner, who had an exceptional talent in Physics, and she was everything that Henry required. Years of persuasion ultimately convinced the physicist to accept the historian, and their beautiful story thus began.

But, his years of longing finally turned out dreadfully wrong. Three years later, Henry and Elizabeth found themselves to be the parents of two daughters, and Henry was in a very pathetic state. But, he still managed to be a good father for Alisha and Ashley. They loved him more than they loved their mother.

It was contradictory since history was never fascinating, while Physics always demanded curiosity. But, Human Psychology was more intricate than forces and energies.

Henry had now attained his seniority. He was over 55, and greys had nearly defeated the blacks. And being a historian, he found himself to be an informational archive. He was proud of the quantum of knowledge he had attained in his life. He believed that there was nothing more substantial than knowledge.

His obsession with acquiring knowledge was closely followed by his craze for coffee. Though historians are usually tedious, Henry’s unusual intake of caffeine made him more enthusiastic.

On the other hand, Ashley still had not given up on her pursuit. Her drowsiness was now replaced with unusual hyperactivity quite often detected in her age group. Her pursuit now intersected with her father, who was enjoying his second coffee of the day.

“Daddy, have you seen Alisha?”

Submerged in the newspapers, he found the child’s question too insignificant.

“She might be inside the house, honey.”

“She is not there.” Her shrill voice managed to damage core functionalities of Henry’s hearing abilities.

Disturbed, he took his eyes off the newspaper. Not interested in a busy morning, he dismissed the words that were to have erupted. He then altered his voice so that the kid might most probably laugh her lungs out and said, “Check again.”

As expected, the little girl laughed and laughed and made her way to the house.

“Are all kids strange?” Henry thought loudly.

21 July 2020

Alisha opened her eyes. She was no longer in the dark, bizarre room, where her mother used to explore the dark secrets of time. But, she found herself in an abandoned, deteriorated compound. The ground seemed stranded.

The fall had quite an immense impact on her. Her vision was not still clear. Her back hurt, and she found it, difficult to sit up. Her watch could not survive the fall. Its dial now had a permanent split. She slipped it into her pocket. She was wearing her favourite sky blue gown, with a mix of white. She could not possibly know that this was no longer trending in fashion.

#fiction #opinion

“Is that him? Is that Dolorez?”

“Who is that?”

“He was so famous.”

“Famous in what?”

“Writings. What? You don’t know him! Are you serious?”

I could no longer listen to the stupid chattering of the young lovebirds. They were so irritating. I tried not to do this. And I could have stayed peacefully within the four walls of my apartment unless it was for Benji.

Benjamin, he always stayed a good friend of mine. He was with me in all the highs and lows of life. I would always be indebted to him. He is the only reason why I still exist.

The place was quite empty for a coffee shop. The clouds brimming with rain and the usual Sunday routine might have kept everyone home. The clouds darkened, even more, signalling a heavy downpour. Yet, here I am, waiting.

Not exactly waiting, I was quite early. I always was. I was known for my uncompromising punctuality once. I always reached my venues long before I was required. It was not due to any particular reason, I just loved doing so. I would then simply watch people. Years of self-imprisonment had failed in damaging my habitual actions.

As an author, I never ran out of inspiration. I realized inspiration is present everywhere, sometimes even in the simplest of circumstances. We run out of inspirations when we stop looking for it. All we have to do is look for it.

A few moments later, a stout man, nearing his fifties, reached the cafe door. He pushed the door open and made his way in. His brown jacket had lost its tone considerably in the rain. He wiped his nearly bald head with a handkerchief and took a glance around the cafe. He straightened his spectacles to improve his visibility.

Recognizing the probability of the current situation to last forever, I waved my hands at him. He responded with a grin and waved back at me. He took the seat against me.

“Aging affects you, Benjamin Poward.” I said with a smile.

“I know. I know.” He paused for some time. “I hate to say this. But… I missed you, buddy.”

We talked for a long time. The long conversation reminded me of how I used to laugh. It was terrifying. It could possibly haunt a little child for years.

“I want to tell you something,” said Benji.

“Please proceed,” I replied.

“It’s time.”

I was confused. “Time for?”

“Time for you to come back. It has been too long. You can’t do this anymore.”

I simply smirked at the comment and glared out of the window. I could never do that. It was my decision to stop. I could not let anything change that, not even Benji.

“Look at me when I speak.” Benji nearly shouted.

“Let me remind you that you are not currently at Cambridge and I am not one of your students.”

“Denny, it’s not funny. FIVE years, it has been five years since your last project. You are ruining your life. Just, just don’t do this to yourself. It was not your fault. It was her deci..”

“It was my fault.” I stopped him before he could complete.

“Alright, we went through this before. Not once, not twice but more than enough. Alright look, I agree. It was your fault. You were not there when she needed you the most. You were being an absolute idiot. You were obsessed with fame. You never even thought about her. And when she finally left this world, here you are, staying inside a room, locking yourself out from the entire world. Do you think you are doing this for her? Do you think you are making her happy? You are NOT. This is not what she wanted. And, you can’t give her what she wanted anymore. Because she is gone. She is gone. Gone. And if you want to do something for her, BE YOU. That’s what she always wanted. That’s what she always loved. Can you do that… for her?”

I was petrified. I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know what to tell him. I always believed I had to do this. Whenever my mind asked me why I refused to respond because I never had an answer. Maybe I was trying to do something for her. But in the insides of my insides, I knew this was not the right way.

“I am sorry,” Benji told me.

“No, no, you are right. You were just... a little too fast.”

We both smiled at the comment. I always used to crack jokes, in the most unsuitable circumstances. I could never let go of my awkward sense of humour.

We shortly finished our coffee and walked out of the cafe.

“So, what now?” I asked Benji

“I have to go back. Got some work to do. What about you?”

“I don’t know, really.”

“Denny, just think about what I said, alright? And call me when you feel to.”

“I will. I will, definitely.”

A moment of silence between us. Then, he gave me a friendly hug.

“See you later, buddy. Take care.”

“You too.”

He patted on my shoulders and started walking away. Some rare intuition in me called out to him.

“Benji, you were a very good friend. Thank you.”

He smiled, “For?”

“Everything.”

I felt so happy on my way back. The streets of London were so stranded. I had never felt this happy in years. I felt so satisfied. And it all felt so great.

Now I had a promise to keep. I needed to get back to the world. So, I tried to go to my mind palace. My mind palace is where all my stories developed. I could create my own realities in there. I could create my characters, locations that do not exist, situations that will never happen, and so and so. But currently, I found it blank. Suddenly, it started raining.

I looked around for cover. I found a bench near a shop that was shielded from the rain. I ran to it. When I was making myself comfortable on the bench, a little girl ran across the road to me. She seated herself on the bench and took off her raincoat.

Somehow, I found the kid so familiar. I noticed the kid had brown eyes and hair. She beamed at me. I felt it strange and quickly looked away. It was cute. But, I was not yet ready to be smiled at by a stranger. It was just a small kid, but still, I found it difficult.

The kid asked me, “What’s your name?”

“Daniel,” I replied.

She was no longer talking. I found it more comfortable to watch the rain quietly. But, the familiarity of her face created ripples in my mind.

“Are you not going to ask me my name?” She asked.

“Oh, what’s your name?”

“That’s sad. You are a grown-up.”

“Alright, just tell me your name.”

“I expected sorry.” She looked at me cunningly.

I actually could not stand it. But, considering the fact that it was just a kid, I gave up.

“I am sorry. What’s your name?”

“Sarah.”

Sarah. Sarah Elizabeth Watson. A wave of memories took control of my mind, actually my entire body. I loved her. I loved her more than anything. And I lost her. Benji was right. I lost her.

“What are you thinking?” the kid asked.

“Uhh... Nothing. My wife’s name was Sarah.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

Surprisingly, in a short time, I found myself engaged in a conversation. A few moments later, she asked me, “Do you know the Avengers?”

As a young author, I was unaware of the outside world. Sarah once pointed Barack Obama to me and I asked her whether he was a pop singer. I really lacked enough information to answer the question.

“I don’t know. Is it a music band or something?”

She laughed. She laughed so loudly that the sound of the rain was now sunk down by her voice. And I somehow enjoyed her company.

“Why did you say your wife’s name ‘was’ Sarah?”

“Well… she has gone somewhere far.”

“Well, why don’t you go there?”

“It takes a lot of effort to go there.”

“Does it cost a lot of money? You told me you are rich.”

“I don’t think they take cash, kid.”

“How about a card?”

“They don’t take any sort of payment, as I heard about it.”

I didn’t know how to tell this small kid all these things.

“Well, is it a good place?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, it is. It’s beautiful.”

“Have you gone there?”

“I don’t think they offer a return trip”

“Well, do you love her?

“I do. I still do.”

“If it was me, I would go there. I can stay with the one I love in a beautiful place. What more do we need?”

Though the rain had left us, her words struck me like lightning. I suddenly felt so different, so complicated.

“What’s the time, Mr.Daniel?”

“4:30”

“Oh, I have to go. See you soon, Mr Dolorez. Bye.”

She ran away, across the road and away she went. But, my mind was hanging on a single question. It was not actually a question. It was an answer. An answer I searched for years. And it was so simple. Is not everything? All the complicated situations seem to have the simplest answer. Like in Mathematics. You solve a huge problem to see the answer was nothing but a zero.

Hours later, I found myself in my room. The room that kept me locked for a long time. But, today I found the shackles to be weak. Like I have finally discovered freedom. Freedom from my mind, my thoughts, myself.

I always believed that every day teaches us something, that can help us discover a better version of us. We just have to find that something and accept it with our heart, or brain, to be scientifically correct. And I have all reason to believe that I have currently attained the best version of myself until this day. Maybe tomorrow might mark a better me. But today, today is perfect.

I have noticed a general trend in suicide notes. They tend to be short. But, I can not make it short. I have a promise to keep. I have to put my best into this.

I have never found myself so enthusiastic about writing before. But, today is different. I will keep my word, for Sarah, for Benji, for myself. This will be my finest.

#fiction #opinion

Esther and I, I and Esther

I had her and she had me

That’s all we ever had, and

That’s all, we ever wanted.

Today. Today, I will have my revenge. Today, I will make them pay for every sin they have ever committed. Today, Esther will finally find peace.

We were orphans. Had no one else in the world. But she never, in my life, made me feel alone. We laughed, we cried, we played, we fought. She was always there for me. She was my father, my mother, my sister, my everything.

“Esther, Esther.” I tried to wake her up. I knew she never would. But, an absurd emotion took hold of my mind; Hope. It tried to show me light when there was nothing but darkness.

Today, it all comes to an end. Today, I will have my vengeance. Today, my sword will taste bitter blood for one last time.

I made my way through the stone laid path. I knocked at the carved wooden doors. He was on the run for long. Long enough. The silence did not last long. The open doors revealed a tall, well-built man. But, his eyes were no longer terrifying. They were impassive. They simply stared at me.

“You are here to kill me,” he said. I stayed silent. Suddenly, he fell on my legs. I quickly moved backwards. But his act was not one of assault, but of submission. He was crying. “Forgive me, please, please do not kill me, please don’t.” he pleaded.

For a moment, an Evelyn I had long forgotten captured my mind. Me, Esther, our little home. But not for long, the loud cries of my sister filled my ear. He was still crying “Please, I am sorry, I am sorry.”

“Maybe God will hear you.” A sudden swish of my sword displaced his head from his body. Blood. Bitter blood. But no more. It’s over. I have had my revenge. I have had my vengeance. Esther will now rest in peace. And maybe I will rejoin her one day.

Esther and I, I and Esther

I had her and she had me

That’s all we ever had, and

That’s all, we ever wanted.

#fiction #opinion