A Beautiful Day...

The music blared in her ears. She carelessly cleared the wooden floor of the many empty alcohol bottles. The smoke that clogged the windowless room made her feel that she was finally among the clouds.

The anesthetics, the alcohol, the music, her life; something had deadened her so much that she couldn’t hear someone pounding on the door. Her thoughts traveled back to the clinic where she had gone to abort her first child and her first sibling. There she had the last glimpse of her mother. Her mother had offered to take her away forever but she had refused. She couldn’t recollect why. Maybe she expected her mother to insist, to take her in spite of her refusal; she didn’t remember.

She was brought back to the present by a sharp sensation of pain. The weak latch of the door had given way and her enraged father stood in front of her, fist raised to deal another blow. She instinctively cowered barely listening as she was blamed for her mother’s death, her father’s loss in business and now, her stepmother’s departure. Everything was a blur after that.

She woke up the next day sprawled on the floor with a swollen lip and bruises all over her body. She had to find a way of concealing her swollen lip; the excuse of allergies and insect bites was used too often. As she got ready, she noticed that her father had already left. She smiled to herself – it looked like a good day. She then got a text from her boyfriend. As she texted back, she remembered a particularly violent kiss and found an excuse for the swollen lip. She smiled again for the second time since morning; there was something exceptional about the day.

She had completely forgotten that the mid-term results were to be announced that day. She had topped the exam which didn’t come as a surprise to anyone. The teacher told her to collect a scholarship form from his office. When she went there, she was a little taken aback when he told her to shut the door behind her. A bird perched on the window caught her attention and she could faintly hear the teacher saying something about her being an adult, some scholarship, some recommendation. She then felt an arm on her legs. She turned to feel a wheezy breath on her face.

Her hand flew to a pair of scissors on the table and she brought it down on the hand touching her. She stabbed the man repeatedly; on his chest, face, arms, back. With every stab she avenged every wound ever inflicted on her. She then stood straight looking at the mangled body lying in a pool of blood. She smiled again, for the third time since morning; today was a truly beautiful day…