Rest In Peace ( #Wattys2018 )

Moving Out

Finally, I started my revolution towards freedom by choosing painting over everything else. We lived in the outskirts of the town in the beauty of nature. Since childhood I always wanted to capture nature's beauty in my canvass. It was like - FOOD FOR THE SOUL. I still remember meeting an old lady by the pond. She posed for me and I painted her on my canvass as she gazed at the sparkling dew droplets by the edge of the leaves. She loved the painting so much that she bought it and rewarded me with 11 bucks. I was overwhelmed with joy. It was a token of love for me. Every evening I started visiting the public park and started the little business that I had just discovered. I painted children playing in the park, women chatting by the pond and men smoking over a heated discussion. I started earning 15 to 20 bucks every week. One normal evening, I was returning home with my pocket full of chocolates that I had received as a token of appreciation down by the pool. "Must feel heaven for you after ruining the little reputation we had." It was my step mum standing by the door. "I don't want any member of the house wandering down the streets and begging money from strangers. If you want to live rest of your life begging , you may leave the house." She was in rage and I stood there in front of her like a dumbfounded little teenage boy who had no clue what his fault was. Minutes later she threw my stuff out and ordered me to leave. "You died, the day your mother did." That's all she said but it was too much for me. My dad said nothing. He just didn't care anymore. There was no use pleading for a shelter. I left the mansion to themselves and said nothing. I walked alone down the streets that horrid evening and starved the whole night. The next morning I bought some bread from the little money I earned from my paintings. I was sitting alone on the railway platform when I accidentally met the same old lady I painted about a month ago. She recognized me. "How have you been my child? " she asked politely. I told her everything. "Guess you're not the only one homeless here. My husband died a few years ago. My son is into drugs. He stole all of my husband's money after his death and ran away. Life was hard but I had some savings so I moved here . Now I live in a small mansion by the pond. Sometimes I wish I never got married or had kids. Sometimes I wish I lived for myself. My husband really loved me. But I guess love is not enough. Be what you are and do what you love. That's when you'll rest in peace." She wished me luck and bid me adieu. Is life really that hard? Will I be happy if I stay alone ? I mean, then there will be no one to hurt me. My own family hates me. How can I expect someone else to show courtesy? I glanced at the railway time table. The next train was an hour later . I bought a ticket and was ready to board it.