hi loveths,
long time no see. i hope you like this one although it's pretty basic. you'll be hopefully seeing more regular updates since i'm on break now but give me some time to get back into the routine of it.
love,
ruth(more or less)x
word count: 1050 words.
HER TIME IN isolation is spent within a dimmed room devoid of any light and emotion.
However, the feather-light white curtains which occasionally shift at the cold blow of autumn wind allows tiny shards of color to shine through. Time has been blurred like a palette of used watercolors and Dalileh finds herself awake at dawn and asleep by the time the sun has fully risen. Its at dawn that she seeks comfort from the creatures which haunt her mind and she finds it in the soft hues of abstracted blushes from a child's delicate cheek. She lays unmoving at the edge of her bed staring at the french doors; she hasn't moved in days and there's a certain stiffness within her bones.
But with that stiffness comes her unwillingness to move, she doesn't deserve the relief of movement and so she allows grime to collect upon her ragged clothes. Goosebumps rise on the edge of her skin as the chilling air callously licks her, a shiver emits within her ribs as her mind aches. It stridently shouts within her bones and tries to escape her trapped mouth; primitive survival instincts have been awakened. Dalileh consumes herself and shuts her eyes in attempts to ignore the whimpers for food. There are plates messily and angrily spilled in pieces around the room. Dried tears make her face crack, uncomfortable to move as she continues to torture herself so effortlessly. Little memories begin to dance on the edges of her mind and it does wonders; sowing her lungs in silence. Lego blocks being tipped over and the haunting laugh that would chime throughout the house. Wook at what I did Dawi!
"Look at what you did Omar", she whispers to nothing as more tears wrack her face. Her heart is weighing her down again; she desires an ending. There is no thought about which category she wants this ending to be: agonising, tranquil, or traumatic. She just desires an ending to the pain or for it to overwhelm her and to flee like a dove migrating home afterwards. Go to heaven. A soft touch of a ghost blankets her as another memory plié's in circular motions. He hugs her in the middle of a rare night of peace and a lack of chaotic self destruction. The tiny hands which hold her arm amidst their sleepiness are comforting. Wuv you Dawi, he whispers sleepily and he pats her three times before fully closing his eyes. At the same time she looks over her shoulder to ensure that there's nothing. I'm going insane.
She takes the largest of breaths and extends her hand over to the edge of the bed. Grasping it tightly she pulls and begins to shove herself over; falling heavily with a thud when she reaches the edge. Sitting up ever so slowly, she stretches towards the edge of the curtain and tugs. And she tugs, pulling hard at the curtain as though it's the window to relief. Groaning after another tug, she holds onto the curtain with both hands while kneeling next to it. And she pulls the curtain upwards before clenching her eyes and she wrenches it downwards. The sound of it snapping and the pole which held it being weighed down emits into the room. Falling over slightly Dalileh balances herself as she comes face to face with the broken white curtain. Then, she stands and opens the French doors despite the grey clouds which covered the blushing rays of sunshine that normally shone during the sunrise.
Little specks of rain begin to drop down from the skies and Dalileh watches as they begin to cluster heavily. They border inside her room almost touching her feet until she steps forwards into it. And there's a relief as she finally breathes out with the pouring rain. There's a sense of freedom which infiltrates her heart as her skin becomes wet; vulnerability and the cold despite the goosebumps that rise. Omar's yellow gum boots that had been brighter than the sun splashed in this rain; his joy sounding out in warm giggles. He has no blood on him and he is alive, that's how she wants to remember him. She yearns for his memory to be cemented within her mind with the brightest and most benevolent pieces of him.
Stepping inside she grabs her Olympus and a paper with a pen from her table and returns to take a photograph of the rain. On the paper she writes,
you were the relief from the sweltering heat,
a breath away from the chaos
a flower that bloomed in the spring
you were the rain.
But you were also the sun after the thunderstorm,
the warm crackling in the fire.
I wish to have acknowledged that sooner.
you are loved. i love you too.And at the bottom she scratches out the date after realising it's been five days since the fight.
Dalileh Namdar, 30/10/10
She places the paper underneath the rain for a minute watching droplets make the ink bleed slightly and beautifully. Dalileh folds it in half, placing it on the table underneath the camera after turning it off and she closes the doors calmly. Then, she steps outside her room; a collected tray of all the broken pieces of plates being held by her shivering arms. Nonetheless, the cold and murky feeling that claims her skin proves that her heavy heart still beats. And she goes downstairs towards the kitchen while placing the tray in the bin. She reaches for a plate and calmly pours cereal into it; washing it with milk. When her mother walks into the kitchen to grab a cup of water Dalileh looks at her with matted hair and ice colored skin. All the while she's chewing on the cereal and treats it like nothing. Her mom on the other hand is frozen as she watches her daughter return to eating; looking like a child that was lost. But she doesn't bother her except before she returns to sleep she warmly says, "Thank you for coming out. I've missed you."
In between her chewing Dalileh responds, "Thank you for understanding". Time will ruin and heal her heavy weighing heart until she feels ready to utter spoken words about the agony.
YOU ARE READING
The Cursed Road Between Them
Teen FictionShe's been told it should've been her. He's been told he should've been in jail. But only they know the truth of what happened.