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Confessions: Just a creative writing write up

I am very much certain that I don't like him. I don't like him to the extent that I hate him. I hate him to the point that I doubt if I really love him at all? He breathes around me all the time and it chokes me. He is silent most of the time and I am scared of what he would say. He speaks and I wake up to his heavy, coarse voice pelting against the walls of my home that I don't call it home anymore. He speaks and it tears my heart apart. Maybe he doesn't like the way I carry myself. I try to mend and it shatters each time. It pierces me, I bleed. Why did I even try to mend it at all? He takes me into his arms, I feel nothing. Would I cry if he'd leave? I feel nothing, again. Sometimes he tells me, I am his darling and the next time I am crouching in a dark corner salving my wounds. It's dark, I don't see them. He tells me, he wants to make sure his darling is right. Is it wrong if I tell him his wounds don't hurt? 


She was there, vomiting blood. She was there lying on the ground helpless. She was there counting the dark. She was there screaming. She was there aching in pain, peeping at me with her teary eyes. She peeps, she doesn't call me. She is just there.


I could not do anything. I could not hear her screams. I could not feel her pain. Is it wrong, if I tell her it doesn't hurt anymore? 

Where did the pain go? My skin burns but it doesn't hurt. I screamed but I couldn't be heard. Red, Pink, Green, Blue, they say. I call them all black. There is something I am scared of. There is something I am lost in. It turns me blind. It numbs my fingers. It makes my words crack. What is it, I ask? My voice echoes back. It comes from a dark, distant, lonely place. I grew silent but it was there.



There are many like him. There are many like her too.


 I am darling of everyone "him". They make sure I am right. Right hairs. Right face. Right breasts. Right hips. Right clothes. Right voice. Right body movements. I think I am wrong where they can't tell me I am right. 


Everyone "her" is my darling. I don't make sure if they are right. I take them into my arms, I feel something. They peep into my eyes. They don't tell me anything. We grow silent. Eureka, I feel something.








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