As I closed my eyes, I saw a girl. She was sobbing. She was a haunting memory in the depths of swirling blackness.
The shouting echoes in the wall, the bang of the closed doors and violence. Like a pirated record, it repeats itself every day. Torturing her inner peace and consuming every good thing in her life. The real dementors are in disguise, they secretly sucked all the happy thoughts leaving her traces of depression.
Her father was a happy man but was victimized by this floating monster. It was like cancer eating every piece of his sanity –targeting his weakest point.He was now one of them, a cold-hearted man cloaked in madness and impassiveness. She couldn’t change it anymore.Too late. All she could do is hope that someday there will be this last piece of memory in him, her laughter, that would bring back every shard and be whole again. Like magic that he made her believed when she was just 7.
The girl was sobbing, louder. Seeing them exchange harshness. It was unlikely for her age and it didn’t really sink in. All she did was cover her little brother, hugging him while they both cry. They were clueless and innocent but they were totally conscious that something really bad is happening.
That girl had little understanding but now she had grown up and knew that everything happens for a reason,that trust gets broken to know who really sticks til the end, that without mean people you won’t be able to identify the good ones and that everyone has a story behind that fake smile.
She knew better now.
Like a torn shirt, it needs patch and few stitches to be wear again. May not be the same but it will still be your favorite shirt. You may not wear it always and prefer the new ones but you would still keep it. Relationships are like shirts, nobody gets unscratched.
That girl regretted half of her life avoiding HIM. She wasn’t daddy’s little girl. Her parents got broken and there’s no time catching up. That girl knew that half of her life she had been good daughter to HER. She was mommy’s robot.And yes, she did nothing to prevent it.
Now half of her life, she would spend it changing everything.
One day, she would hear laughter in those four walls and when she open her eyes, she would smile to see those two people who would cursed each other with love and yearning for the lost years. She would be too clingy, afraid to let him go again. He would speak nothing but the smile and his eyes would tell how happy he is to be loved again.
And when I open my eyes, that girl’s dream begins to stop.
Photo Credits || http://goo.gl/YCNNha