Revived Souls

E P I l o g u e

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|E P I L O G U E|Four years later
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The camera flashes attacked my eyes and I squinted it in response. There were many voices speaking all at once. A hoard of unknown faces staring at me. And there I was, shamelessly basking in all the attention.

It was a media oriented event. The journalists and news reporters with a microphone clutched in their hand, fired me questions after questions upon my arrival which was about two minutes ago.

I was comfortably sat in a chair under the heavy spotlight clad in a laced beige knee length dress which was wrapped with a spaghetti striped Crimson blazer completing the formal look. My face was covered with minimal make up—a subtle eyeliner and red lipstick all under the insistence of my editor.

Yes, I was on a book launch. I was launching an autobiography called To the Shore Of life: A tale of Revival and Survival.

After frequent visitations to support groups and specialized therapy sessions for victims of abuse for about one and half year, I had took in a deep breathe and picked up the much needed courage to finally pen down the story of my life. From all the time I spent in therapy, I found that writing your feelings down was one of the best form of expression of all the pain endured instead of suppressing it.

Flynn had also joined therapy along with me in order to get rid of all the demons of the past. Even though we were no longer life-phobics or had any suicidal tendencies, the nightmares did not lessen and somehow it was dragging me back to all the haunted places of the past. I did not desire to relive them and the scars that decorated my skin sometimes made me feel suffocated and thus restricted me from ever exposing my skin. I found it hard to feel beautiful in my own skin even if Flynn told me that I am, about twenty times a day.

The destruction caused by Lennox was life-lasting. But I wanted to change it. I wanted to put my past behind.

That's why I decided to get professional help.

"What was your main inspiration behind this book?" One of the reporters asked.

I snapped my eyes at the camera lights and primped my hair after keeping my eyes closed for a minute mustering up the courage to talk about it—my struggles and battles. This had become a part of my usual routine: to close my eyes, picture my birth mother telling me to go far ahead, and have a quick focus on my breathing.

It was something my therapist told me to practice and I had been inculcating it into my life ever since.

"I have been a victim not only of domestic abuse but also of life. I have fought many sorts of battles not only with the world but with myself, too." I began keeping my tone light but coherent. "I have gone through different levels of messy situations just like anybody else and I have made stupid mistakes and decisions. And thanks to that, I have learnt a lot about life."

I bit my lips and continued, "I have met different types of people and I realized that..." I held my breathe for a pause. "We may go through the same thing but what I make out of it may not be the same as yours. People fight against pain...against life in two ways. They either face it or deny it. And when you deny it, that's when you screw things up and start hating everything. Basically, it's like a downfall."

"And when you face them, you are on a battlefield where you can have a possible victory. You can change your life, bring it back to normal. Revamp yourself into a better version of you." I saw that a lot of people had frown on their forehead not knowing where I am going with this piece of talk.