It was beautiful. I could feel the breeze kissing my deprived skin. I could sense the towering trees swaying with joy , yet watching over me like elder brothers possessive of their kid sisters. A faint flap of a wing near my ear told me that there were ecstatic butterflies, someone had told me they could have a million colors on them. I could hear the birds chattering away amongst themselves, perhaps laying out their day ahead. And as I walked a little further, I heard water. In contrast to the melody around, it sounded angry. It was as though it could see its destination, but by some magic the destination eluded it, which made it angrier, fiercer and more intense. It morphed giant rocks and pushed the banks further apart. It was unstoppable. And so was I.
I sat near the bank and washed my bloodied hands, and gave the knife to the water, to carry it someplace else. Someplace far. More than the fear of being put behind bars I wanted to get away from the remnants of the man whom I had put to sleep, the man who wasn’t worthy of being called a human being. I couldn’t see him, just the way I couldn’t see the rest of the world, but I knew him by his terrible ruthless stink. Every time I could smell him I knew I will be inflicted with pain and torture, just for his pleasure. A sadist as they call him.
I don’t have to smell him ever again and I am glad I couldn’t see, when I slit his throat 10 minutes back. I ended it. It’s over. I am blind, but now he cannot take advantage of that. I will learn to run and walk and smile and forget. It’s over. I am free.


Constructive and genuine appreciation and/or criticism most welcome

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