Our creations and our destructions and we are the reason. It’s us.
Someone chips off a piece of us, and then we let ourselves fall and smash.
A piece by Quennan
She lay crippled in her bed. Teardrops falling on the pillows. Wetting it to the core. She couldn’t close her eyes because it reminded her of the pain and the torture that she had been tormented to. Two years and it still felt like it was only yesterday that it happened.
“I want you to be my queen”, the words echoed in her ears. She had been quite elated when he proposed her, unaware of the fact that it was nothing but a vicious trap that would keep her caged for the rest of her life. Three days into it, and she got to know she wasn’t the only one in his life.
Not so deep in the “love”, she was furious. At herself, at him and at the whole situation. She, she was wronged by everyone and not the guy who had trapped her into it. She had been foolish to get into it but one can’t clap single handedly.
The “educated and mature” people failed to understand this part. She was approached to as a slut who was sleeping around with random people. She was looked down upon. Though no one exactly knew if the rumors were right or wrong , no one tried to look inside of her.
She continued to live her life, trying to look as normal at outside, but collecting pieces of her shattered heart inside. A lot of the pieces had been lost somewhere. Her soul could never be whole or so she thought. Came around a person whom she trusted a lot, shared every single line of thought that crossed her mind. He found her to be extremely vulnerable. tried to enter her mind by breaking the barriers that now stood at guard. Failing to do so, he attempted to molest her, threatened her, tortured her.
She wailed for help, cried, and people ignored her yelps of despair. Her parents, almost abandoned her, refused to trust her. Refused to call her their own. She had no where to go, no one to rely upon. No one to have faith in herself. No one to give a verbal reinforcement that she was the one who was right. Not a single soul who even tried to understand her. Giving up, she attempted suicide. Thrice.
It’s not suicide that’s cowardly. It’s us who make the person feel like that. We are the cowards who fail to stand for the right one just because no one else is. The diffusion of responsibility eats up the humanity inside of us.