They told me that once I was married everything would be easier. My days would be pleasant and quiet, and I wouldn't have to worry about anything. But what they didn't tell me is that I would have more time to think. Time to think about everything I did in my life and everything I didn't. Perhaps it gave me too much time because my thoughts grew sour in my head. As I washed the floors my mind would wander. As I hung the clothes out on the line, my thoughts would taunt me, reprimand me, agonise me. It was always the same. Monotony dulled my senses, malnourished my vigour and quenched my spirit of its excitement, and its adventure.
My mother told me how my dreams would fade away, become void. She said the time for silly notions had passed away, and my life would become greater than myself and my silly goals. So I folded my hands on my lap and waited. Day after day. Month after month. Year after year. But my aspirations stood in my brain on a dusty shelf, growing mold, and quavering with a dying hope. Crinkled, crumbling papers, fire kissed pages, smoking embers engulfing my heart.
He told me how he would protect me, how he would keep me from harm and keep me safe, yet everything I had once been, was exiled. When I looked into the mirror in the dawn, there would be a stranger staring back at me, with eyes blank and longing. A face devoid of colour and life, a face robbed of its youth. I don't know when she had left me, I don't know for how long I've been alone, surviving with a piece of my soul fled from me, back up to the heavens, with my consciousness left behind to suffer, stuck in a vacuum I created to cage it in, and harness what like a bird should have be free.
YOU ARE READING
Trapped
Romance25 year old Sienne lived in a community where marriage was everything, with a culture that kept her at home in her husband's house was there place for a mind full of ideas? Guided into a loveless marriage what was there to guide her wandering heart...