Trapped

She stood up straight, or as straight as she could in her five foot frame. The medicines were working, she thought. Her mother glanced at her and smiled, “You’re growing up Eli.”

 

She said nothing. She couldn’t without letting her know everything and then it’ll be another trip to the doctor, new pills and the weeks of fussing and worrying that followed. It wasn’t worth it. She gave a smile instead, only barely managing to keep the pain out of it.

 

Eli made her way to her bed and sat down. Her mother watched over her, always, anxiously waiting to offer assistance. I don’t need your bloody help.

 

“Do you need anything else, Eli? I can make you some tea.”

 

“No, I’m fine.” The voice was soft, croaky but she knew her mother heard it.

 

“No, I’m sure you need something hot in you. I’ll get you some tea.” She nodded firmly and left.

 

Eli sighed. She wondered when her life would be fully hers and she could pursue her dreams. She only had one. She wondered whether she should broach it with her mother again. The past five years, she had asked for nothing else. She decided she would try one last time.

 

When her mother returned with the sea, she said, in her usual soft manner, “I want to go to school.”

 

Her mother dropped the tea onto her foot and she yelped. “Eli, I thought we settled it. It’s just not right for you.”

 

Eli couldn’t see why not. She couldn’t see why she couldn’t go do school like all the other kids-why she couldn’t learn like everyone else, why she could live like everyone else. But she said none of this and only repeated, “I want to.”

 

Her mother waved this away, “You’re too young to know what you want.”

 

Eli reflected on her sixteen years of life. She had spent most of it closeted up at home or in the hospital. She had no friends - her mother wouldn’t allow her any. She had no hobbies �" her mother had declared everything she liked too dangerous. Again, she shut her mouth on these complaints. It would be useless. Besides, she didn’t have a large enough vocabulary to voice some of the objections. She merely repeated, “I want to.”

 

Her mother’s voice grew annoyed, “Stop acting like a child, Eli.”

 

 I’ll stop when you stop treating me like one. But she sighed and lay down on the bed. After a while her mother let her be.

 

This is the last time. It has to be. She went to her desk, a nicely rounded one with no sharp corners, and tried to compose a note. “I’m leaving. Goodbye.” But she had never learnt to write so the paper she eventually left on the table only comprised of scribbles. She walked to the kitchen, one slow step at a time. She took the kitchen knife, the only sharp thing they owned, and stepped out the door one final time.

 

 

She stood up straight, or as straight as she could in her five foot frame. The medicines were working, she thought. Her mother glanced at her and smiled, “You’re growing up Eli.”

 

She said nothing. She couldn’t without letting her know everything and then it’ll be another trip to the doctor, new pills and the weeks of fussing and worrying that followed. It wasn’t worth it. She gave a smile instead, only barely managing to keep the pain out of it.

 

Eli made her way to her bed and sat down. Her mother watched over her, always, anxiously waiting to offer assistance. I don’t need your bloody help.

 

“Do you need anything else, Eli? I can make you some tea.”

 

“No, I’m fine.” The voice was soft, croaky but she knew her mother heard it.

 

“No, I’m sure you need something hot in you. I’ll get you some tea.” She nodded firmly and left.

 

Eli sighed. She wondered when her life would be fully hers and she could pursue her dreams. She only had one. She wondered whether she should broach it with her mother again. The past five years, she had asked for nothing else. She decided she would try one last time.

 

When her mother returned with the sea, she said, in her usual soft manner, “I want to go to school.”

 

Her mother dropped the tea onto her foot and she yelped. “Eli, I thought we settled it. It’s just not right for you.”

 

Eli couldn’t see why not. She couldn’t see why she couldn’t go do school like all the other kids-why she couldn’t learn like everyone else, why she could live like everyone else. But she said none of this and only repeated, “I want to.”

 

Her mother waved this away, “You’re too young to know what you want.”

 

Eli reflected on her sixteen years of life. She had spent most of it closeted up at home or in the hospital. She had no friends - her mother wouldn’t allow her any. She had no hobbies �" her mother had declared everything she liked too dangerous. Again, she shut her mouth on these complaints. It would be useless. Besides, she didn’t have a large enough vocabulary to voice some of the objections. She merely repeated, “I want to.”

 

Her mother’s voice grew annoyed, “Stop acting like a child, Eli.”

 

 I’ll stop when you stop treating me like one. But she sighed and lay down on the bed. After a while her mother let her be.

 

This is the last time. It has to be. She went to her desk, a nicely rounded one with no sharp corners, and tried to compose a note. “I’m leaving. Goodbye.” But she had never learnt to write so the paper she eventually left on the table only comprised of scribbles. She walked to the kitchen, one slow step at a time. She took the kitchen knife, the only sharp thing they owned. She turned the object over and slid it gently past her forefinger. She watched the blood welling impassively. When it had stopped bleeding, she looked up briefly to see whether her mother had come down this way. Then Eli stepped out the door one final time.

 

Her mother had cried when she saw the body. But apart from that, nobody missed Eli. Nobody had even known of her existence. Nobody cared.

 

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.