"My fingers were twitching and were pestering me to write. But this time I didn't want to write about dreams and fantasies, I wanted to write about loss and hope."
-Locomotive Library
Dedication
I dedicate this piece to Zee
And to all those who strive to keep their hope/faith stronger than their trials.
Word Count — Approx. 5665 words. Please offer your Salah and complete all your important tasks at hand before you jump at this one.
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Majority of the world may be asleep by now, trying to get a little peace, a little rest which is essential like oxygen because of the exhausting routine the twenty-first generation follows throughout the day. Minority of them maybe working night shifts, sacrificing their sleep to fulfil the responsibilities which is heaved on their shoulders, trying to motivate themselves to be optimistic and focusing on work but failing time and again. Jealousy creeping up and dying down within them, cause who, with their own will, would want to work at night when the windy nights are singing them a lullaby.
But to-night didn't feel like night which I used to love, the peace I used to feel, the solitude which I used to enjoy. All that wasn't there, the only sound shattering the silence of the night, was that of raindrops crashing against the rooftop. A sound that was neither musical nor peaceful. I didn't enjoy it tonight.
Why? Because it matched my feelings and my emotions, my tears surging up and down from the time I'm sitting here and same was the case with tonight's rain. It rained heavily like I'm bursting in tears releasing the baggage I've within and then it's slowing down like I'm telling myself to be brave and strong.
"My Daughter is brave and strong. Now you can do it, go." Dad pushed me through the slide which led into water. I shut my eyes and let the darkness welcome me, extending my arms towards either side I try to locate the side-lines of the slide, to grip them and stop myself from falling and then all of a sudden I slip falling into water while it enters my nostrils and mouth, I start to cough trying to catch my breath while simultaneously struggling to get above the water, and somehow after much hassle I emerge above the water and my eyes manage to find the culprit, who was a little tensed with a frown on his head but it fades as soon as his eyes fall on me and a proud smile replaces it.
That's it.
From now on, I will not visit any amusement parks. I'm done. I can't believe Dad just pushed me into water when I'm clearly telling him that I'm not going. I hate him.
Hate him. For what? Trying to remove my phobia of water. I think hating him would be the last thing I would do, or any daughter for that matter would do to her dad.
