he was at the table, eating dinner with his mom. he chewed on the meat hanging from his fork, with his eyes fixed on the wall just behind his mother's head. she was watching him closely but he couldn't feel her cold stare.
he laughed when others laughed. he talked when others talked. he smiled when others smiled. he felt sad when others felt sad. But he didn't know what to feel when he was alone.
he tried to locate those invisible puppet strings attached on him but those were as puzzling as the hidden puppet master. his kingdom was slowly fading. And so was he.
"Where were you today?" she asked. he looked into her stormy grey eyes. he refused to answer.
"The school called me. You haven't attended the classes in two weeks. Why?" she questioned, her voice hitting higher decibels. But he remained mute.
"What do you think you are you doing? Skipping classes. You already find it difficult to cope up in school and now you are skipping classes. Don't you know that I work hard day and night just for you?" she cried. he dropped the fork on the plate. The noise of the cutleries clashing tormented the suffocating silence around them.
"Are you on drugs or something? Please don't cause me more shame," she said curtly. he watched her silently, not even flinching at her harsh words.
he stood up to leave and turned his back. she stood up and pulled him down by his arm. his long sleeves rolled upwards. her mouth hung open.
Jagged light scars created weeks ago with mirror shards. Deep red almost black thick wounds made out of anger and intense wishes to die. Straight perfect crimson criss crosses created unintentionally new geometric patterns on the bare skin. Two fresh lines made out of a blade ran all over his arm. Blood still oozed out of it.
her hands shook. her eyes widened. she dropped down to her seat. she balled her hands into fists and placed them on her lap.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she whispered hoarsely with unbearable emotion. her eyes filled up with unshed tears.
he rolled down his sleeves and opened the door. Not bothering to wipe his tears away, he walked out.
YOU ARE READING
Frail
Short StoryHe was Frail Physically and mentally. He was King Of a kingdom Ruled by others. Completed✔️ Hope Mist Awards First Place Winner