ANTONYM

The world is not fair. To me, it was not a knowledge newly acquired and yet somehow it never really failed to astonish me to see how farther that line of limit could be drawn. When it hits, I think that this is bad and nothing could be worse than now, but I get proven wrong every time. A loop, a vicious cycle that provides hope only to tear it away.

She moved away.

Left me.

How could she?

The pain in my chest still alive since the day I got to know how she ran away without a spare thought to the consequences that might await. A soul so shy and timid, how did that fire ignite in her that too her away from me? Even before I could hold her, touch her, let her know that I exist.

Her brown eyes, so warm, so soft, so innocent that I could drown myself in them forever and never have the urge to come up. I'd happily be breathless. That privilege though, I had to have only once. A taste that I thought would last forever, a moment frozen. If only...that was possible.

Her hair so soft, free and full of flight even if chained down by her family. I could see the breath that they had held down. Freedom, they so eagerly desired but never got to savour. My fingers itched to run through them and feel the cool calamity that laid underneath the tucked hair tie.

Her skin glimmered in the dimmest of lights. Such smooth and freckled perfection. Pale and ripe. Oh, what I would give to smack it raw and see the blood rush through in anxious gallops. An imprint or a creation. My very own canvas to play with.

Her lips. I couldn't even imagine to express what they made me feel. Those thin red cracks on plump flesh. Like the petals of the Rose, when the dews their scent disclose. Soft as velvet tho' they be, fragrant of the Dawn and thee. Yet thy lips are sweeter far, than all garden Roses are. Charles William Cayzer might have somewhat succeeded in coming close to describing what was ineffable in words.

Her shoulders, her arms, her hands, her fingers, her legs, thighs, toes, the small scar on her collar bone, a few peppered moles on her body that toyed with me, teased me often and finally she herself. It was a massacre. A killing machine devised and created just for me. Jailer, torturer, thief, robbing me body and soul. The exclusive taste I craved like no other.

And she left.

Like I didn't even exist in her world. Or maybe she was pretending to be blind to the electricity we felt that first night she saw me. First for her, twenty-second for me. I saw her there, sitting on the windowsill, and she saw me, standing out of the shadows for her. To tell her that I exist and that I knew her more than anyone ever would.

I remember the little frown on her forehead as she looked at me inquisitively. Not expecting anyone to look at her at all especially because she thought that she didn't exist, her family didn't let her. Yet in my world, she was the only thing that lived at all. A spark of light that I couldn't overlook.

And just like that she looked away, like I was a lie. The intense air between us was as well.

The keyword being 'like'.

I knew better. Her soft shy nature and her anxiety ridden self, wondering why someone would notice her especially when she made the effort to be unnoticeable. She had made a move from the life of the party, living room, to the quiet and unattended study for the sole intention of being invisible. It worked on the oblivious others but not me. My soul seeking her and her only.

She looked away and stared out the window, surely hoping for me to leave. I knew how much she liked being alone, and I really liked that about her. If only she would have let me be a part of it as well.

The things that I wanted to do to that innocence.

She left me.

How dare she.

I understand that her family wasn't normal and that her life wasn't either. Not many people knew that because the people she lived with were very good with people. Perfect pearly smiles, fake shine in their eyes, good talks and a gala of parties. Why would anyone ever think that there is something wrong with them?

The eldest male, the head of the family, her father. A sales executive. To the normal and unknowing eyes, nothing too extravagant. An average pay grade, middle class income, satisfactory job. With a humour of acquired taste and unquiet nature why would he be wrong? Sociable, friendly and normal.

The eldest female, the wife, her mother. Just a simple home-maker. Sweet, charming, the average beauty and a bright smile. Never disagreed nor did she say no, yes and yes and yes. Everything is fine, everyone is fine, she is too. Sociable, friendly and normal.

The boy, the son, the brother. I wish I could say things that would make him seem like an actual star child but being the male gender gave him enough privilege and acceptance in the misogynist society or rather his family. Talked just enough, pleased only the people that were fruitful and knew how to get work done. Sociable, friendly and normal.

It's funny how the society takes things for granted. Views the world from a pinhole and believes that what they see, what little they see is enough and the absolute truth. Oblivious of the shadow that looms behind. A side that only few get to see or rather get to endure. The truly honest ones are a distaste because they don't hide what they are. A crime if they don't because other's are not doing so. How dare they be careless to not be what others are? Not what is usually accepted and seen so often in the society. How dare they not be normal?

Such a shame that it had to be her.

I wanted to protect her in my arms, take her away from them and never let anything hurt her the way she used to be. Abused both mentally and physically. A pain that not many go through and the ones that do, hardly ever share.

Being a teenager myself I didn't have the ability or rather resources to protect her. The fact that I was stuck in a similar situation didn't help. Yet I would have tried if only she would have given me one chance to prove myself to her and that I was worthy of being with her. But.

She left.

I should be happy that she wasn't with her family any more and that she was somewhere else, safe and sound. At least in a better place with that friend of hers, but I couldn't be happy. How could I when I should have been the one to save her? A rightfully desired duty snatched away from me.

She didn't even know that I existed. A mere fickle perhaps since she saw me that one time but other than that did I really reside in her soul like she did mine? Am I to blame because I didn't introduce myself to her or talk to her or let her get to know me the way I knew her? Would she have liked me then?

It was a wishful thinking, but I wonder if we were normal. Two normal kids, growing up with two normal families. They would have met that night at the party, talked to each other, liked each other and would have made a second effort to do so again sometime. She would have smiled at me, a rare smile that I never got to see when she lived with her family. How would I have looked smiling?

We never got to have that. A childhood romance. If that kind of thing exists at all. It would have been nice to have something like that.

I remember the first time I saw her. So timid and shy. A flame that barely burned. Flickered in the cold draft that teased it so often and in intervals. She withered in it but never faltered. How didn't she? What could've possibly made her go on?

It's not right to compare one's misery to another. Not possible either. To each their own pain and how they feel. Something that I had felt as well which left me completely barren and empty. Like a dusty cold field with nothing at sight. Windy, dim and dull, such haze that blurred the sky and the land into one. Alone.

I dreamt of what she had, not the life she lived in but the life she lived. A secret only she seemed to possess that held her onto this earth when I was almost at my count's end.

Two souls so alike, unlike the lively party that I first saw her at. The reason for which we were brought to it was the same. A show to the other people. We are alive and well. We are okay and the people we lived with were normal. They cared for us and wanted us with them at those social gatherings. If only that was the complete truth.

A blatant lie.

One done so smoothly and without any remorse. Perhaps it was expected of them since the other things they did in comparison was far worse, untold of and hidden from the rest of the world. And all of this lie just to hide what they did behind closed doors because they wanted to be accepted in the society or rather not thrown out of it.

It was obvious though that something was indeed wrong with us. An expressionless pale face no smile, no life in the eyes, people should have realized something was wrong, but they never did or cared to dig deeper. They only cared about what was shown to them because they too didn't want to bother themselves with the troubles others faced. That's the whole society turning a blind eye to the problems until those problems are brought directly face to face with enough evidence. Something worthy of their energy and time.

In a way, everyone was to blame, the whole world for ignoring us and letting us get shoved into the dark corner. Even she was to blame.

She left me.

I never forgave my uncle, aunt and cousins for what they did to me even if it was their job. Uncle, aunt, cousin all in name and not blood. A job to teach me the hard ways of life, to grow me in a shadow of pitch black darkness that didn't shield me from the knowledge of the world but instead threw me right at it, every day and night. A job bestowed to them by my parents whom I only know by name, faces and blood that I shared. A job that meant getting killed without any knowledge of it. A seed they were supposed to sow which would become the killer that would ultimately kill them. If only they knew, I wonder if they would have done what they did.

I won't forgive her either.

The future won't hold the same fate for her like my uncle and his family, but it won't be merciful either. She took herself away from me, and she will have to give herself back to me. Completely, willingly, body and soul, to hold and to have, to control, to dominate her whole being. I will have her even if it means she will have to break to the very core. Crumble and fall down to the ground only to be moulded back again into the shape of my choice. She is already half way there, and I haven't even met her yet.

She is mine, always have been from the first moment I laid my eyes on her. She belongs to me even if she ran away. I will find her someday, and make her realize, remember, that we are meant to be. Souls connected by something invisible, conjured by the universe, an unbreakable vow, sealed by the past which decided our future.

A strangling fate, her for me and me for her.

Soon my dearest Roza, soon.