Whispering Wiselessly

She stood there knocking at the door for hours. The white dress on her skinny frame looked lifeless. Dull and dirty. Her hair was a messy attempt of holding them together in a braid. She wore socks. The ones with frills. Black shoes. No laces just buckles. Pink frills on her white pale dress. Frills which looked like lifeless flowers, or flowers which were about to fall off a branch. They had completed their life cycle. Decaying. Just like her soul was. She banged hard with the stick in her hand at the door. "Open!!." She fell to the floor, crying. "Let me in." Silence. Tears rolling down her face. But no sound. She stared at the floor slowly folding her legs to sit as if meditating. She placed the stick on the floor. The wooden floor. Symmetrical. In line with the lines of the wood which were beautifully laid. She rested her back on the door. Taking a deep breath. Tears rolling down her face. Biting her lip. She told herself, "you are better than this." Whispered to herself rather. She turned to look inside the room through a small hole in the door. Her lover sleeping peacefully on the bed. With no care in the world. He even woke up once stretched himself and poured himself a glass of water. Not looking in the direction of the door. Lied down on the bed shut his eyes and disappeared in his sleep. Her heart sank. Getting up quickly on her knees now hoping he would suddenly wake up and let her in. But that never happened. She played with the lines on the door for sometime. She ran quickly got herself a pen. Kneeling down she started scratching on the door, damaging the pen more than the door. Failed attempt. Like always. Taking a deep breath she looked in through the hole again. Disappointed. She left the place.

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[Anika]

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