Up in the Clouds

5. Melancholia

Isla.

Isla stood in the balcony again, looking out on the other side of the road, hoping to see him.
He was there in the balcony few minutes back but she had to hide inside so that her husband catch her again.

She looked at the city again as she waited and the same thought crossed her mind that did yesterday, or the day before. Every day, each of these people did something in their lives, some worked in office and some took care of the house and kids. Kids went to school and studied while their mothers went to work, some stayed at home. Husband's would go to work. At night they all would sit down, watch TV or maybe go out or did whatever it is they wanted to that day.
But unlike all of them, she stood in her balcony hoping to be like them, day in, day out. 

Trapped in her house, she only did the house chores and hoped her husband won't be angry or drunk or worse, both, today.

Her only escape was him and yet, seeing him was also a secret she had to hide.

Last time she got a black eye for it, if she gets caught again it would her arm. But it is still worth the troubles. Because she felt free and a little rebellious when she talked with him. Last time he asked her phone number, but how could she tell him she doesn't own one. Her husband didn't let her have one. When she tried using one from a friend, she had a plaster around her wrist for two weeks. Even the doctor knew how she was hurt, he even asked her if she wanted to report it to the police but she couldn't, how could she?

It wasn't like this in the beginning though. She remembered the Good days when there were no shouting and abuses, no beatings and fear. Infact there was a time when she felt more free here than she did at home.

Belonging to a strict Catholic household in a small village, her family was not the richest of the people but very respected. Her grandfather at a time used to be the pastor. Her father had no intention in the ways of God and used to run his small shop. When her mother married in the family, she brought in her side of the family business.
For a while, they were doing well but as the kids grew in number, so did they troubles. Taking care of the ancestral home had become a little difficult and her marriage was going to be their salvation.

But she had already given her heart to the tourist who had passed through the town.
She was in the meadow that day, playing with her siblings when they had met her for the first time. She still remembered how her siblings had accidentally injured him with the ball. She had apologized for it, even brought him home to treat the wound. As a courtesy, her parents had asked him to stay with them that night.

That night, the night which once was a good memory now had become one of the most cursed ones. Every day she wished she hadn't snuck into his room that night. Every day she wished she wasn't that curious as she were then. But she was young and naive and she did snuck into his room. He had laughed when he saw her. Older than her in age and an American, her curiosity was at peak when they had started talking. It took her a while to understand his accent, she even laughed when he said words like water. But they talked with each other the whole night. He told her about his adventures and she told him about her little town. In the morning, when it was his time to leave, her heart did sink a little.

Two hours later she had found him in the same spot where they had first met.

He stayed in the town for one more day.

She snuck out of her room for one more night.

They spoke with each other for one whole night again.

And as the sun rose, she got her first kiss from a man who wasn't her betrothed.

Then letters began to travel around the world. Phone calls were made through a local shop and bribes were given to shop owners and siblings to hide the secret.

One month later when he visited again, they made love to each other and she lost all her wishes to marry any other man. For her, this tourist, the man who would never recieve the approval of her family, was the one.

The one. She laughed at her thoughts now. If only she had listened to her family then. But she didn't. She tried everything to win their approval and when all failed, she ran away with her prince on her wedding day, to a new world and a new life.

From the white horse she sat on with her prince, the world seemed perfect. Their house was beautiful. He cared for her and loved her in ways she did not know. And when they made love, she saw stars. It was all just like the movies.

But one day, two months into their marriage, when a small burnt chicken and a stressful day had resulted in a bruise across her cheek, things didn't feel so perfect. She cried a lot, she shouted a lot. Threatened to leave even though she knew there was nowhere else to go.
But he made up for it, apologized and all the imperfections were forgotten.

Two weeks later, she had a bruise on her arm.

Three weeks later, she had a sprain.

Five months later, she tried to run but he caught her. Her punishment was being tied to the chair, watching her belongings, her family treasures being burned in a fire in front of her. When he kissed her that night, she could taste the poison in him. There was nothing she could do after that. He left her in that state for two days and the hunger wearied her down and her will to fight left her body.

Two years later, she now knows the meaning of the drunken nights and forced kisses. Burnt food and broken dishes. Staying the locked house whole day and talking to only those who she is introduced to. Pretending in front of neighbors to be perfect family. Hosting the dinners for the entire police precinct and being the most perfect and supportive wife of the city's favourite cop.

She was the perfect wife to a perfect husband. Her life was perfect like all the stories, but if only they had eyes to see and ears to hear the shouts.

Beneath her blouse hid scars and marks. Some of burnt cigarettes, some from knife and some from kicks from the heavy police shoes.

Her prince was infact the big bad wolf and she had walked right into his lair. The world only saw the disguise. For them, there was no wolf. For them, she was a sweet queen when infact she was the damsel in distress.

Damsel in distress with no one to save her.

Who would she ask for help? Her husband was one of the most respected detective in the city, with an impeccable record, so who would have the courage to stand up to him? Who would even believe her? Even when everyone knew he had trouble with alcohol, they all choose to overlook it because he was the best at his job, so who could help her? And If she did run away, where would she go?
This is no Nicholas Sparks book, there is no safe haven in this story. This is real life where she doesn't have any neighbors or friends who would believe her story. She doesn't have money to travel anywhere and if she is really honest to herself, some parts of her are actually tired of fighting  him. She had made a mistake and now she had to pay the price, no matter how harsh it is.

She looked up again, letting herself float in her small wonderland. And as if on que, he appeared on his balcony, the hedonist, rescuing her from the reality. He looked at her and waved. She plucked up some courage to do the same. He gave her a big grin in return.

He lifted his coffee mug, she lifted her's and as if the distance between them had reduced, they cheered with their drinks.

****
Hello,
Long time no see. I was trying to work out this chapters and the coming up ones. Been having a bit of block to write these.

But I am happy with how it turned up.

So what do you all think? We get a look into Isla's life and how she landed up where she did. What do you think, will she be able to get out of this toxic relationship?
Write down in the comments below.

Also if you find any typos, please be kind and let me know.

It's been while since I heard from you all, looking forward to some interesting discussions.

Until next time,
Cheerio.

Love,
Alice.

****