spectator.

who me, nah! this isn’t my blog anymore. my brothers taken over.


 

Life is sometimes utterly cruel to us; When the strings fall right into their places you realize that they ripple a motion you can never go back from. I was brought into at a strange place they called home, where i came to such a conclusion.
After being left in the room with an awkwardly isolated girl Sarah of no more than eleven, who rather exuberantly, to my surprise, welcomed me to her room, though dull and dainty it was, I began to try to fathom my purpose. In the coming days, I realized that this girl whom i did not know at all would reserve herself from the outside world and would astuteness herself on me. Mumbling and jabbering everything that happened in the school with her. From the boy named Charlie pulling her hair to her history teacher’s profoundly disturbing habit of chewing her nails.
Through the talking and the stories Sarah became familiar in an eerie sense which felt wrong yet so compelling that i pushed this feeling to the crevices of my heart. My affection for her aggravated when on one afternoon, while having a a delightfully enjoyable tea party, she said a phrase which changed me forever
“You are my favourite person in the whole world”

There is only so much happiness one can feel when it is about to be snatched away from them. A similar occurrence happened at midnight when she was dozing and her father came into the room drunk and profusely smelling of liquor and cigars.
In a saggy walk he stepped towards the light and adopted an unnaturally precarious stance while wearing an expression that exuded callous energy. As if his aura physically manifested, Sarah woke up, adjusted her vision to the man in her room and for an infinitesimal moment contemplated the situation and then slowly walked towards him, worried that like an infant baby he might stumble and fall. Before she could reach him, his finger went upwards to her face and with quivering lips, and hands he muttered forcefully

 

‘You should have died instead of her. She gave birth to you and you killed her”
With that his pointed finger abruptly fell and his florid eyes released tears stroking down his masculine face and disappearing into the beard; he hurtled out of the room leaving Sarah alone with me. I could see conspicuously that every word of his was an arrow into her heart. She stumbled onto her bed as if exhausted by what had just occurred, curled up around the blanked and started sobbing. I, on the other hand, couldn’t comprehend why i could not help her at the moment she needed me the most.
The following day, when he came into her room with a stoic posture and a gleaming smile on his face that i perceived he had no recollection whatsoever of the night before. He had prepared for her school lunch, which he gently placed inside her bag and then and let out a debilitating yawn.
‘Were you asleep last night, when i came home, sweetheart? I don’t really remember what happened.’ he said distraught.
‘You went to your room and slept’ She said this so easily that even i could have believed her.
‘Okay, don’t be late for school’ he kissed her on the forehead and went out of the room.
You could hardly believe a man of an affable characters as his saying such heart wrenching things about his daughter, under the influence. What was even more heartbreaking was Sarah’s reaction to the incident. It seemed as if she had been accustomed to such cruel visits from her father.
Sure enough, a week later the pungent smell brought the calamity with itself. Yet again she had to endure the vicious and contemptuous remarks of her father and act like nothing had happened, the next morning. It was after several visits later that she confided in me the clandestine reason why she did not reveal to her father of his actions.
“It would devastate him to know what he said to me’
It was appalling that a girl of eleven possessed such wisdom and strength. A girl nonetheless whom i fell in love with. Who remained stringent on her choice despite the immense and sensational pain it stormed upon her. I, however, though found it quite eccentric that she would keep it to herself, this burden, wanted nothing but for her to be happy.
I could never interlope and save her when he would come to the room. Considering everything, this was the hardest thing that I’ve ever done. Watch someone, for whom you have brimmed affection, and love be ridiculed in front of your eyes, only to know that you are helpless in stopping it.
Several weeks passed and her birthday came, which was really an exhilarating time. I could not wait for her to show me her whole house , which she had promised me the day before. For the first time I strolled with her out of the room; every room and corner of the house seemed like a different world to me. In this new world I discovered a strange object of esoteric nature which i could not identify.

 

This object which Sarah revealed to me was called a mirror, which gave me perhaps the greatest tremble so far. When i peered vividly i saw a familiar figure staring at me through it, Sarah. She pointed towards where i was supposed to be and whispered
“That’s you, my favorite person in the whole world”
Only I was not a person but a hand stitched, embroidered pieced of clothe stuffed together into a doll.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “spectator.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s