Dark Light (Part 2)

Continued from bit.ly/DarkLight1

I watched her walk through the rest of her life like she had rented it; honestly, I felt pity for her because of the hard knocks she took on every corner of her life. Since after her uncle, her dreams became horror movies, her diary was The Boogey man’s to-do list; she was indeed painstakingly convoluted. She had grown into a young woman with the illusion of having total control over her life, which, by the way, was set on a path of revenge.

She still managed to excel in her high school finals and college entry examinations because she was bent on getting well educated. The university seemed like a haven for her. I remember when she came into the premises for the first time, she stood at the gate of her newly self-proclaimed home, a warm smile that spelt ‘freedom’ by every letter drowned her face, her watery eyes darted to and fro her new home. This was all she wanted, she was free!!! Or so she thought…

Scaling through school was not an issue to her until her third year. She had excelled marvelously through her first two years of college without any single hitch. This was shocking, even for me, as she rode on a smooth milky way for two years without exciting the taste buds in the eyes of the badmashes and voracious predators lurking around almost every facet of her educational edifice. She had kept her encounter with her uncle a secret from her parents as she was sure they would spit back at her. The rapist, in turn, had just told her parents how much of a nymphomaniac she is and how she thought she could take advantage of the fact that he and his wife were having recurring sessions of squabbles, within and outside the walls of their marriage, or whatever is left of it. Financially, she had totally crumbled; emotionally, a moment of silence please; educationally, she was slowly losing touch. Vulnerability overwhelmed her entire being like huge waves at Hawaii in November. And then, as expected, the wolves crawled out of their caves and followed the sweet smell of a young, very beautiful and intelligent prey. She needed money, she needed shelter, she needed food, she needed comfort, her guard was down in a split second; she was emotionally and physically weak.

Now here she was, a school dropout, standing under the rain, leaving the apartment of a huge and hairy man who, she made sure, had taken a fatal OD of hard drugs the previous night. She opened her bag to make sure the bloody syringe was still there, it was. She sighed heavily as she sat in the taxi. She knew she had won but she was slowly absorbing it. Is this the fulfillment she had since longed for? I watched her through my window blinds as she came down from the taxi. Now that she had taken revenge on her uncle, what next?

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Dark Light (Part 1)

It was 04:47am, the wall clock just confirmed that her wrist watch was correct. She had had a jolt off the bed because she detested stay-overs, she hated the drama of sneaking out. Grudgingly, she lifted his hairy arm off her chest, slowly shoved his huge body aside and crawled her way out of the blanket. She picked up her sleeveless top from the table, her miniskirt from the top of the lamp stand, her heels which lay squalidly on the floor. She dressed up almost like she was in a timed contest, her heels in her hand, she tiptoed towards the front door of the one room apartment. The room was so small that I would think the huge hairy Bigfoot of a man wouldn’t fit at all. His small wooden table was littered with books which looked like they had barely been touched except when being thrown around. One section of the table had a bag of spilled syringes, some rolled-up papers and what looked like cocaine. His room looked like all the objects were in complete chaos. She latched onto the door handle and turned to give him one last look, a cloud of extreme disgust covered her face as she whisked away from the room.

Her extreme hangover was at the verge of blurring her vision that she almost stumbled on the staircase. She knew she had to get to her apartment before even a ray of sunlight caresses the new day. The thought of the man she just left behind once again, sent chills down her spine because he was extremely hooked on drugs. This made her waltz to the section of her thoughts which she really had avoided exploring- she had no idea of what had happened last night, and that’s how she wanted it to remain. Looking at her eyes, I would say it didn’t bother her that much because when she opted for the game, she gave her all. But I guess I was wrong because as she stood under the rain waiting for a taxi, she couldn’t care about hiding the tears which rolled down in quick successions as they would be mistaken for rain.

But this was not where it all began, no, she wasn’t always like this. She once was a young girl who loved fishing out dramas, films, pictures, from the cold black and white pages of every book. She devoured every piece of scribbled words that stumbled her way so much that she would almost always be seen at the library. Her voracious reading eventually turned her family against her. Her father, who was a poor pot-bellied and chronic drunk, felt that her addiction was a curse placed on her by his enemies. He believed this so much that he would scream at her at the top of his voice each time he sees her bend over a small piece of literature saying that reading would not make her rich and would make her undesirable to any man. Her mum, who was less superficial, would beat her mercilessly every time she gets caught at the library saying that this addiction was replacing her duties as a young woman. To think that she was just a ten year old suffering the beatings and punishments of an armed robber was just too disheartening, even for me. Her dearly beloved hobby slowly came to a halt when she was twelve, when her father, at the peak of his drunkenness, slammed the door on her and ordered her not to sleep in the house that night. She begged and begged that she had nowhere to go, banging on the door, crying and wailing, hoping it would at least, soften her mother’s heart. It all proved futile. The best her mother could do was to shout at her the more to quit making such a racket, the irony though. The night was caving deep so fast, she had to find shelter. She remembered her father’s brother who lived about thirty minutes away so she hurriedly began her journey. He listened to her pathetic story, comforted her, fed her and gave her a nice bed to sleep in. She was woken up by the sound of shouting from her uncle’s bedroom. She closed her eyes shut as she endured the whimpering of his wife, she could tell that he had beaten her to pulp. Suddenly, the war was over just after the slamming on a couple of doors. She still lay there, wrapped up in the blanket, comforting herself to get some sleep. Five minutes later, her door swung violently open, her uncle’s frail figure walked down to her with a huge and mischievous grin spread across his face.

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