Locked

Chapter 7

Finally, she arrived at the door of her apartment. Her mother wasn't home yet, as usual. She made herself a snack and headed to the desk in her room. She stared at the blank paper thinking of what to write. She sometimes looked at her book thinking to herself:

"Why can't I write what I want to write?"

She didn't understand why this was so hard for her, she was always the best at writing ten page long essays. And now, she couldn't even write one word! In her mind, it was almost like one could hear the noise of hair growing. There was nothing inside.

But as she thought harder, she started to visualize life inside the book and not just as someone who is reading the story. She imagined herself having a perfect family, perfect parents, a perfect job. 

But as she looked deeper, in the corner of her mind, of her imagination, she could see darkness. The big black circle-shaped figure came up to her and as she touched it, it was like she could see everything. She saw the dictatorship in the community, the fact that they have to give up their babies, the fact that they have to obey. 

She opened her eyes and started writing. She couldn't seem to control her own pen. The words were just flowing out. 

She wrote for so long, she didn't even realize the loud thuds and the bottles breaking when her mom came back from work. Nothing, no noise, only one thought. She poured her mind, her heart, her soul into this little piece of paper. She had started with nothing and finished with too much. 

Even she couldn't have imagined herself finding out about this ugly truth that was hidden behind a veil, like her life; or so she thought.

But then she looked around the room. 

She didn't see what she usually saw. Her room wasn't this perfect place to live in anymore. All she saw were the bad parts of it. The mold, the rust, the cracked and crappy walls. She walked up to her living room, and found her mother on the couch, but this time, it was all new to her. 

It was like she was seeing this apartment for the first time. 

Her mother was on the couch, probably drunk. But Cassandra didn't do anything about it; in fact, she didn't know what to do. Her mom was right: she was blinded by the fantasy of books.

 And in a blink, Cassandra raced to her room and started packing her bags...