the wall stared back at her as she was trying to figure out a shape in the uneven surface, a face or a thought to fill the void. how many times can a person commit a mistake and repent? She felt like a step in a ladder on which people kept their feet for a while to move up- is it better than being a doormat? Trying to think of a reference which would make her feel better and all that comes to her mind is that he used to stare at blank walls once upon a time. A blind person she had become in last four years and followed him like his shadow would. Figuring out a way to put her feet in his shoes and feel like a winner after breaking and destroying another human being's dreams and spirit.
A dark well with a rope hanging down it she was holding on to the rope, everyday pushing herself to climb a little higher, hearing the voices outside which all say that it is not worth to hang on a rope like this for someone who pushed you inside. Yes, she thought, I can come out of it but somewhere in her heart she still hoped a hope which was like a blank stare on the wall. What would bring comfort? She cried in her prayers for patience and strength; for a belief of not belonging; help!
Days passed by but the voice the answer he gave her when she asked- are you happy?, never went away. Like a dark red stain of pomegranate juice smashed on a pale wall- the colour of the heart, it stayed.
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