Lost Love And Escape

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We don’t forget the unpleasant things, even if we want to.

If someone tries to cut you to shreds, fantasizes you as frozen meat or tries to melt your retina, would you forget it? Would they forget it?

Not everyone gets a goodnight sleep.

“Anna, you’re a liar.”
“I’m not lying. You know me. Do you think I would do that to him?”
“You’re a liar.”
“I’m not lying. I sure don’t remember what exactly happened, but you can’t blame me. I wouldn’t do that.”
“You sure don’t remember what exactly happened, but I do. Liar.”

She’s tying me up again. The smell of her fingers tell me that she had the food a foodie beggar would dream of and her face tells me that she probably fed me rat poison. My hands have cuts all over it’s probably because she’s kept tying me up.
This is not going to help. I am not going to confess what I haven’t done.

An hour later:
This is NOT going to help! I am not going to confess what I have done!!!

This time she had left a sketchbook for Anna. Come on. She should have left her with sticks and stones or bare bones and crumbs. Knives and guns would do the trick too. It’s so tough to pierce the skin I’m consumed in with pencil points and pen tips. Gosh!

I’m bleeding. I’m bleeding so fast and so much. I can’t believe it my sister is doing this to me. The bulb light makes me feel like I’m in spotlight. I’m on a stage! But, I keep thinking of how badly I want to flip this life page.

Down, down, down, deep-down I’m thrown off by myself to my memory lane. “Ella and Anna,” it reads. Ella looks like a little princess with sunshine in her smile, her frilly frock and the flower tiara. She was Mom’s favourite and I was Dad’s. Dad dressed me up in dungarees most of the times and I got to wear his cowboy hat. We loved it. We loved our tiny tales and fantasylands, the ones we built in air under the moonlight.

There was love but, then came escape.

I hated change and I hated how things had changed. All I can remember now is being slapped and wounded, every weekend. I remember how ghost stories replaced fairy tales, how sugar tasted bitter and how love for me was not lost but rather dead. I hated Dad leaving. I hated the fact that choices were to be made. I didn’t hate Mom, but she did. And, I hated that too.

There was no love and I craved to escape.

We don’t forget the unpleasant things, even if we want to.

If someone tries to cut you to shreds, fantasizes you as frozen meat or tries to melt your retina, would you forget it? Would they forget it?

Not everyone gets a goodnight sleep.

I can’t decide what pains more. Is it my bleeding cuts and wounds or is it the memories that I can’t forget? My head is exploding and I can hear someone scream from within in my own ears. It feels like self-destruction. Sadly, I cannot touch death, I cannot commit suicide. It’s like I’m fighting with myself. So, I start to sketch and what I see freezes me but, it fails to freeze my blood from oozing. Dark, black sketches! They resemble Mom and the grim reaper or they’re a combined version. I can’t decide. I see myself too in its dark shadow. I’m tortured to death but I put them to their deathbed. This is so cruel. This is not me but, a part of me says it could be.

Anna,

“I am you. I am a part of you and you are a part of me. I’ve grown in your skin and you exist in mine, maybe. We’re together sharing the same body. Life is bad and you know that too. Help yourself by letting me help you. Your better half or the other you.. this is me, Bella. I live in you.”

Bella.

I lost a few hours, again. I’ve lost love and I’ve lost blood. I lost Mom after I lost Dad. Overtime, I’ve almost lost Ella and now I’m losing myself too. Reading my sketchbook made me wonder if I was possessed? Was I being drugged? Was this a hallucination, a dream or a nightmare? Worse, was this reality?

Ella came in and untied me. She was crying and I was too. I didn’t know what made her cry but she kept saying that she loved me, that she always did and always will. I knew that she used to love me despite what Mom thought of me. Maybe she thought she punished me badly and she felt bad about it, this time. But, it wasn’t making sense. Nothing made any sense to me and I felt an urge to get immune to the emotion of love.

We don’t forget the unpleasant things, even if we want to.

I tried to cut myself and freeze my oozing blood. I scared the living daylight out of myself. Bella is me. And, I m Bella. Anna and Bella are both, me. It’s taken me almost a year to accept this reality. Fighting it didn’t help me. I’ve lost love and I’ve lost blood. I lost Mom after I lost Dad. Overtime, I lost Ella and I felt like I could lose myself too. I couldn’t let that happen. All that have today is myself. All that I have is Anna and Bella. Bella is getting calmer and she helps me deal with my past better. It’s true she was aggressive but things have changed with time. And, to be honest I cannot do without her today. Ella left me like how Dad and Mom did. They made me who and what I am today. They are the reason Bella is here but they just call her a part of my multiple personality.

Not everyone gets a goodnight sleep. But, Bella is helping me go to bed.

There’s no love because there was escape.

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Aekta Khubchandani

A doodle artist, a basketball player and a crow lover. She has her mind travelling to places unknown but, she loves to physically travel too. For her, good food and good coffee are therapy. She also believes in magic. Her life rotates around hallucinations, dreams and visions. And, she likes to see things differently.

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