Illusive Reality - Conclusion

In the tiny apartment, Maya sat uncomfortably on the gray leather sofa, her one suitcase by her side. She waited for her husband to return from his foray, wherever he had gone off to after dumping her at the apartment. She looked at the walls around her, decorated with large art pieces. Images of wildfire in a forest, or flames rising from the roof of a house. Drops of sweat beads began to form on her forehead as she sat surrounded by intense scenes in the small space. Her breath became short and her throat suddenly felt dry. She made her way to the kitchen to get some water. Just at the last of the last of her sips trickled down her throat, she heard the door open. Her husband staggered in and seeing her standing in the kitchen he momentarily showed a look of surprise, as of he’d forgotten who she was. He stumbled into the living room and slumped onto the sofa. As if suddenly remembering who she was, he ordered her to serve him a drink.

Maya rummaged through the cabinets in the kitchen and found a bottle of rum. She anxiously poured some in the glass and brought it to her husband. He took it roughly from her hands and before he could take a sip, passed out on the sofa spilling the drink she had just handed him all over his shirt, the sofa, and the carpet. The glass rolled down the soft carpet without breaking, but empty of its contents.

The next day Maya’s husband raped her. Unsure of what to do after he had passed out, Maya had retired to the bedroom and had drifted off at dawn after a tearful night. She woke with her husband’s hand on her arm in a tight grasp. He grabbed her roughly and pulled her to him. She screamed in shock and got a slap on her cheek in response. Her lip bled from while her reddened ears pulsated with pain. It was over as soon as it had started, leaving her in pain and her heart bleeding.

Days became weeks turning to months and Maya saw no way out. He came and went as he please, expecting food and drink when he was home. Fear gripped Maya and she performed to his bidding. In the first week she had contemplated running away, but where would she go? Surely not to her aunt, whose life would become hell if Maya went into her life again. In any case, her uncle would send her back or call her husband. She had no one and nowhere. Her current life offered her shelter and if she didn’t offend him in any way, her life was normal.

He was rough in the bedroom but she closed her eyes during those times and let her mind travel to the images of her parents. Even in those vision she often was haunted by the blood ridden shirt of her father or the heart wrenching scream of her mother. Those nights she stayed up late plotting her escape while her husband snored next to her. Sometimes she reflected on her life and its meaning. She thought of the downward spiral it had taken since the tragic passing of her parents. The ten years at her aunt’s place were not ideal but at least she had the freedom to go to school and the love of her aunt who also shielded her from her uncle’s wrath, absorbing all his blows herself.

She thought about the violence that shaped the direction of her life and continued to do so. She was weakened, her spirit broken, she felt abandoned by her parents to face the cruel world alone. Her tearless eyes cried, her soul felt sorry for herself, her head fell in her palms, dejected. Suddenly, her head jerked up, her dark, pupils dilated shifting from left and right, as if she was possessed. Maya stood up and in the darkness felt her way to the door.

Out on the street, a blast of cool air slapped her as she stepped onto the sidewalk. Defying the blast, she walked head on, letting her dark hair sway in its disheveled state. She picked up pace as her bare feet jogged across the cool ground.

Blind with tears, the salty liquid she hadn’t felt since childhood, Maya ran on and on. The street was empty and she continued running, toward a bright light, the beacon of hope at the end of a long, dark tunnel.

Maya opened her eyes to see whiteness greet her. A bright, white light shone high above and she was mesmerized by its glow. She felt a presence by her side, but couldn’t see its form. She felt an immense presence of love, as if it were a solid thing that nestled her within, just like her mother had held her on their last, fateful day together. Maya realized she was not alone, that her parents and countless other forms who cared for her, loved her, they all surrounded her. She was free at last.

The End

Illusive Reality - Part 3

One week after her birthday a young man came to the house for dinner with her uncle. Aunt and niece prepared a hasty meal and visited with their guest, who charmed the ladies. After he left, Maya’s uncle announced that the wedding will be in a month. With that Maya’s fate was sealed. The wedding was simple with only two guests in attendance – Maya’s aunt and uncle. The groom either had no family or chose not to invite them. Her aunt stood next to her through the quick ceremony, her head lowered as if she was afraid to meet her niece’s eyes.

Maya followed her new husband to his apartment in the city, 100 miles from her only living relative. The car ride was smooth and silent. From the corner of her eyes in the passenger seat, she studied her husband. He was handsome in an odd way with point nose, sharp chin and a prominent Adams apple. In profile he appeared to be a man with sharp edges and defined contours. What brought all his facial contours together into a handsome face were his dark, dark eyes under long, feminine lashes. With perfectly timed blinks, his look charmed his companions. She was mesmerized under his look, but his silence contradicted his warm eyes. She watched the wildflowers whizz by and admired the cloudless sky that smiled down at her.

to be continued...

Illusive Reality - Part 2

Maya sat on her aunt and uncle’s porch in a rattan armchair. She stroked the red velvet fabric of a tiny box on her lap, a gift for her 18^th birthday from her aunt and uncle, well mostly aunt. She let the seconds pass, a firm grasp on the soft box, until she allowed her fingers to unhook the latch and open. Inside, she found an exquisite set, an arrangement of diamonds and emeralds on a necklace with matching, teardrop earrings. Tucked under the sparkling lace, she found a note. Her aunt wrote that the set belonged to Maya’s mother and she had loaned it to her. Maya picked up the delicate piece, lacing it in her fingers as she brought it closer to her face. She smelled the arrangement, as if hoping to pick up any lingering scent of her mother. But a whiff of mangoes from the neighbor’s porch mudded her fantasy and she travelled back to ten years ago. She tried many times to conjure up memories of her parents, the happy years, but her mind never travelled past the day her life altered forever. She couldn’t see past the blood splatter or feel beyond the sticky liquid as her parents’ faces faded from her memory and numbness assailed her heart. Even tears abandoned her as her crying eyes remained dry. In these moments, desperate for tears, she felt her body stiffen and for several hours she lost blood circulation in three of her fingers of her left hand. It always returned to normal eventually, but she struggled to bring back feeling to her cold digits.

Maya tried to evoke memories of the past decade, the years in her aunts home, but there again she failed. A fog had taken hold of her. She feared everything – her uncle’s loud voice, losing her aunt and even the train that whistled past behind their house several times a day. She constantly felt obligated to her uncle, for taking her in even though she could sense his annoyance with her presence. Maya was quite sure that he didn’t know about the necklace, otherwise it would have been sold years ago. Maya also lived with perpetual guilt – for surviving while her parent perished, her mother taking the bullet and Maya escaping it. Her guilt extended to her aunt, who fought with her husband daily to protect her niece and suffered his wrath alone. His anger boomed through their bedroom nightly and Maya noticed a new purple mark on her aunt to outshine the fading ones. Maya chose to drift through her tearless, finger numbing fog as the decade passed.

to be continued...