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R E P U T A T I O N
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She was standing next to that broken window with it's hinges falling off. The view outside was in a striking contrast to her bleak past.
A storm was brewing outside.
Dark clouds gathered in the sky, grumbling in impatience. Cold winds accompanied those clouds, like they always used to did.
It was 13th December. Her birthday.
And every year whenever she visited this place on her birthday, a storm would be eagerly waiting for her. Like waiting for her to step into it and gracefully dance along it's powerful rhythm.
The violent winds were shaking the whole frame of the fragile house. It felt like the place would fall off at any moment.
The cold winds, sent a shiver down her spine. The storm outside was welcoming her, as it always did. Asking her to come to it.
The storm felt like home.
She didn't know why, but she always loved storms.
It went hand-in-hand with her personality though. A dangerous proclivity for a fearless girl.
She turned away from the window and lit her candle-lamp. A flickering flame danced excited, casting shadows underneath it.
We never acknowledge the shadow beneath the bright flame. But she knew all about it, afterall she had experienced being a shadow for too long.
Then, she went into that familiar room of hers. She walked towards the vanity on the farther end of the room. And opened the first drawer. But there was nothing inside it.
Her composure was a calm one, like she knew she won't be able to find anything in that drawer or in that room.
But that was not true.
She produced a small key from her leather jacket's pocket. It was a complicated, bronze key.
Now all she had to do was find the right lock for it.
And she knew where to find it.
She turned the drawer around. As the lock in question glittered in the faint glow of the candle.
The lock itself had rugged lines engraved on it.
She turned the key and the lock opened with a click.
Click. Click.
"What happened in your relationship with Mr.Brown?"
Click.
"Miss. Swift, please look at the camera!"
Click.
"Who's your date tonight?"
Click. Click.
Inside there was something that looked like a very old diary. Dusty and rusted.
It was a sleek black journal, gifted to her by her pre-school bestfriend. But now, it was just a discolored old diary. The irony was that- the discoloured diary held the colours of her life.
She yanked it out of the drawer, and ran a hand over it's cover. The dust clung to her hand, just like the distant memories-hazy and scattered.
She walked over to the lamp and turned the journal over. Her name was written in gold ink. An untidy scribble.
She smiled a bit at the memory that came rushing with it. Tiny hands and narrowed brown eyes, concentrating hard to write in calligraphy. She still remembered his victorious smile when he finished writing it.
The diary was badly crippled, like it had struggled just like her. The she wasn't alone. With a delicate smile, she opened it and noticed that the paper had started yellowing.
Those yellowish pages held her fragile past faithfully. Every secret and emotion of hers was painted in it with underlying care and passion. That book was her sanctuary, a piece of her soul was engraved into it. It was an old familiar body ache, which snapped from the same little breaks in her soul.
The scent of the pages had close resemblance with the electrifying smell of the storm that was brewing outside.
Her face contoured in pain. She wished, she could turn back time and told her past self that her happiness was just an illusion. That everyone she trusted and befriended were just waiting for her to fall apart, to start picking at her. That her infamous dating reputation would haunt her everywhere she went.
Then her vision clouded with rage. She didn't realise, but she was crying.
Because she was furious.
They shouldn't have left her alone to deal with all the mess they left behind. They shouldn't have painted her out to be a serial dater. They shouldn't have.
They shouldn't have expected her to flourish and handle everything. They shouldn't have asked her questions which hit home. They shouldn't have.
He shouldn't have left her with their broken promise. He shouldn't have given her a shoulder and just dropped it. He shouldn't have.
But that didn't change the fact that she was to blame too. She shouldn't have believed all the lies they told her. She shouldn't have thought he would remember their ancient promise. She shouldn't have acted all brave and confident, when all she wanted to do was die. She shouldn't have.
But trying to find out all the shouldn't-haves, wasn't going to help her move on. It wouldn't help her move on from the pain of losing her supposed best friends. It wasn't going to help her move on from his broken promise. It wasn't going to stop the paparazzi from questioning her. It wasn't going to help her become the carefree girl she once used to be.
She had to learn to move on. She had to. And this time, she would. She wanted to leave her past behind for good, and start over again. This time she wanted to be careful.
So she took her diary and ran outside. Into the storm.
The wind had picked up speed and the rain was pouring down in a heavy downpour.
Somehow, she enjoyed it.
Raindrops ran down her body, soaking her wet. Washing all her tears and anger away. Now she knew why she loved storms, because they had the power to wash down your sorrows. Amidst the torrential rainfall- she wasn't accused of using her feelings for her career, she wasn't Benedict Arnold's ex-girlfriend, she wasn't the girl everyone painted her out to be- there, she was just a normal girl. Someone very insignificant and minuscule.
Someone who didn't feel like a stranger in her own body. Someone who wasn't controlled by her manager or anyone. Someone who didn't have to think million times before saying something, scared it would spark a career-ending rumour.
Lightning struck near her, but she remained there unfazed. She didn't want to go back to her supposed home, and deal with her bad reputation.
She earned to run back to her parents.
"Why did I choose to live here? Why can't anyone see past my exes? Why is it so hard to believe that I'm a human too?" She yelled at the sky, demanding answers. But it remained quiet.
Holding out the already soaked diary, she opened it and watched as her past got washed away. Her soul was slowly fading away from the diary.
Her lips upturned into a wistful smile. She was finally letting go.
She dropped the diary on the ground, it fell down with a dull thud. And she walked away.
She no longer wanted to be forced to do anything. She knew what she was, and she would show them just that. This time she wouldn't care what they said, she would do just whatever the hell she wanted.
With her past behind her. She had nothing to lose, as she was starting over again from rock bottom.
And from there, the only way was up.
©Allisa Fawn | 2022
