Twenty Two!

Empowerment?

One night,
She forced me to write.
A story filled with her ire,
That creeped through my bones,
In a desperate need of coming out of its tombstone.

A lady - as she told,
Was in her house
With hopes of growing old.
Measuring her height
Against the door made of oak,
In desperate attempts of growing,
Against the odds.

She called herself old;
Old enough to leave home.
Only her age differed;
With her wounds
Matted with blood,
Left open to heal.
But she didn't give up hopes,
A chance to let her wounds heal.

The night came,
When she shivered
Waited with held breath,
For the worst to come.
The disaster was not far by,
When came the woman-
Of her demise.

Panting and growling,
The woman lied.
Took her hands,
In attempts of proving her lie.
With bated breath-
She allowed the woman.
The world called her, her mother;
But she beg to differ.

The night turn darker,
The lies grew bolder.
She knew she needed years more
Before she could leave this hell hole.
Her mother lifted her hand;
At her insolence.
She did not accept,
That her mother was different.
The lies faded-
In the eyes of her mother.
Where she knew,
She would never give her love.

What happened next
The world never knew.
The windows fluttered,
Against the wind so high
They blurred the room
In a shade of blue light.
The moonlight hit the walls,
Painting it blue,
The corners stood proud black
Reflection of her mother's soul.

She sat on the floor,
In a blur of red.
Stood just a dingy table,
Between the mother and her.
The mother took a slow drag
Blew the smoke,
Her eyes fixed on the girl-
A stare down between them both,
The blank eyes and the bloodshot ones;
Looks eerily familiar
Still they differ.

I stood up,- she said
Turned to look at her for one last time
With shaky fingers,
Wind blowing her hair,
She took the step she knew was required.
It was the time;
For the inevitable, Consequences be- damned.

Her eyes flickered to the frames behind,
It moved like a motion picture,
With a picture of a blank faced woman
And her bruised face in another.
It lands on the last,
The frame off its hinges,
The glass splitting
The frame between her and the man
She looked so happy,- She deduced.
Her chubby hands not caked in blood,
Stood proud in arms of the man.
The crack on glass-
Equaled the crack on her heart.
The one pain,
She and her tormentor were connected with.

The woman widened her eyes at the sight infront
There stood the girl,
Soulless like her.
Taking a shaky breath on her clumsy feet,
She raised the dagger like weapon to her front.
The woman took another slow drag,
Watching those swirling emotions,
In the teen few inches from her.
Propping her feet on the table
She relaxed for it all to come.

The irony wasn't lost,
How the girl considered herself a grown up,- a lady
Yet she stood with shaky legs,
Fearing for her worst. 
Time was lost,
It matched the rhythm
Of the two lost souls
Waiting for the beginning of their end.

The woman watched transfixed
Right when it came,
Slash after slash
But not an iota of pain.
Her eyes shone
In a different colour for a change,
She was content for once
In the pool of red.

The blue light hit her face
The wildness grew at a fast pace
Not before she collapsed,
Like a log off it's roots.
The woman sighed
Like she didn't witness a crime
Looked at the fallen girl
Once she cuddled in her arms
Walked over her body- red
The woman shook her head
As if her lifeless body was a nuisance

That night the winds howled,
Blowing through the house
In the unwelcomed grounds.
Shook the core,
Rattled the walls,
The frame,- finally met it's fall.
The glass shattered;
Like the life of the girl-
The curse broke:
Her body lifeless on the floor.
Her soul weightless as air,
Who finally found her escape
Over the windy blare.