Her eyes open a little and see the morning light coming through the sheer curtains of her room. She lazily streches her arm and grabs her phone from the nightstand. “Oh my God! How is it already 11:30?”, she panics, as she gets up and rushes into the washroom. “April, did you just wake up?”, she hears her mother calling through the door. “Why do you sleep so late that you can’t get up in the morning?”, she says after a brief pause. “I woke up earlier and thought that I’d just lay in the bed for a while. I don’t know how I fell asleep again. I don’t know why I sleep so much and still feel tired and sleepy,” April argues, as she storms out of the washroom in her white bathing gown. Meanwhile, the big old clock strucks twelve, and April looks at it, “Mom, I think I’ll skip breakfast and directly have lunch,” she says with a wide grin. Her mother looks at her with an angry face, but soon that expression tranforms into a subtle smile as she walks out of her room.
The smile on April’s face goes away at once, like the sun disappears suddenly at the horizon. The screams and shrieks from the night hauntingly pierce her ears, and her tired eyes silently cry out the tears that made them heavy. She looks at her pale homely face in the reflection that the mirror shows her, and sees his words inked on her skin. She thinks about the time when she was the sun and the moon for him; the promise of a bright day and the depth of beauty. Her features have distorted into a strange ugliness, or is it his judgements which have changed her eyes? He looks at her like she’s grotesque and makes faces, and laughs at her for not being pretty. He calls her names, and tells her that she is nothing, but wasn’t she his soothing April rain? Then he says that he loves her, and she believes, but his vile judgments linger, and she finds her hands holding a blade at her wrists, when she suddenly hears her mother calling again, “April, you’re going to starve yourself to death. Come and eat something first”. April quickly puts on a white tee with a matching pair of pyjamas with tiny paw prints all over it, and hurriedly leaves her room. The sight of the happy faces of her family forces a smile on her face again. She spends the rest of the day patiently waiting for the daylight to merge with the darkness of the night. She is a pleasant summer day around them, and a cold winter night when alone.
As April walks back into her room at night, and shuts the door, she lies in her bed, thinking about the morning sun, and the allure that the uncertainty of waking up to see another day holds. “Suicide isn’t for the weak”, she thinks to herself, as her phone vibrates.
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing
