𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 [18+]

41: Our Dystopic Soul

"The life where nothing was ever unexpected. Or inconvenient. Or unusual. The life without colour, pain or past."

― Lois Lowry, The Giver

Rose's POV:

Have you ever felt vulnerable?

So much so, that even the truth seems an well orchestrated lie? An illusion?

Have you ever hurt yourself intentionally before?

With lies that should not have been spoken?

Even if it hurt you, you still lied, why is that?

Was your loved one involved, or you just like bathing yourself into the sick, sweet, sadistic agony?

Tell me, did you feel depraved? An immoral, incumbent with a cluttered soul?

Humans were given the ability to deal with wounds. We could easily patch them up, stitch them and the pain would probably suffice within time.

But the wounds of souls?

How were they supposed to be dealt with?

For the past two months, the wound of my soul seemed to have become deeper, gorier. I did not know how to deal with it.

Each time my mama asked me about the man I fell in love with or each time she would show signs of excitement at the mention of my baby daddy, I felt as if a part of my soul was being clawed out from me.

She didn't know the truth, I would never tell her in my lifetime, but somehow the lie was hurting me more.

Like I was destroying what was left of my spirit slowly.

It felt bad, too bad.

To lie to a person who was both your healer and pacifier- it was lot harder.

Whenever we would have a conversation about the baby, somehow the topic still went to the man back in London. Mama would try to sneak out answers from me.

She somehow knew the topic hurt me, but she didn't know how much. Occasionally. I would go pale at the mention of his name and start having a panic attack, mama would leave it out for a week at most and then she would go back onto that.

The woman thought I was having a hard time recovering from love.

He scarred me, he broke me and I hated him for that.

I loathed him with every fiber of my body and my soul.

Then again, I never pondered over him, I didn't want my baby to suffer because of my anxiety.

Speaking of my baby.....

My hand went over my bump which was much bigger than previous month. A smile made it's way over my face, my heart leaping with joy.

I was on my fourth month.

And I have come to know the gender. It was a boy.

I could feel him growing, getting stronger each moment as he fed on the nourishments that my body provided it.

My doctor said that I had been doing better, but god knew that I wasn't.

Yes, the panic attacks and the nightmares were lessened and my anorexic tendency had been withering away with time as my pregnancy made me crave weird foods- but it wasn't because of the medicines and therapy sessions.

It was simply because I didn't have time to focus on those matters.

Every single moment, the simple thought of lying to my mother would start eating me. It was like I was being nagged by my subconscious mind every single moment.