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"SWEET REVENGE"
She was riding off to see something magical, something that once turned the way she perceived the world. She had her eyes closed, arms spread wide and her heart wide open. She was finally away from everything that suffocated her, that kept her tied down, from everything that was strangling her to death. Yes, she was finally breathing.
.
A tune broke her ride through blissfulness, a tune she was so familiar with, a tune that always raised her curiosity and never failed to put a curve on her lips. She answered the call and there she heard another voice, which was more lovelier and familiar than the previous one, a voice that gave her life, that still pushes her into it. She answered the call saying "yes Dad" and the voice replied with " He's finally passed away". She stopped at once, got down and dropped on the floor, by the curve of the road. She sat there staring into her phone, her ruthlessly cut hair covering her face and the occasional winds raising the curtain to her pain.
.
She sat there and thought about a man. A man who has abused her throughout her childhood, chased her through her teens and left her with pondering nightmares into her youth. A man who was not only content with her but her forbearer as well, the one who brought her up with love and affection, the one whom she so dearly called mom. A man so profound in the society, under the limelight but a nymphomaniac in the shadows, even to those tied to him by blood. She fell back into history and thought about how she took her vengeance. How he lied helplessly on his deathbed, paralysed like a log. How she would go to his chamber every single day when everybody failed to give a fuck. How she took care of him, cut his hair, shaved his Beard off, brushed his teeth, gave him a bath, only to see him cry and whine helplessly in pain, in the memories of how he abused her and her mother, how he ruined her childhood, her concepts about family and togetherness.
.
She stared at his picture for a while, closed her heart and looked deep into the ground and said "I've finally forgiven you grandfather"
.
She got up without even taking a glimpse of her trail and rode her mind back into serenity.
.
A tune broke her ride through blissfulness, a tune she was so familiar with, a tune that always raised her curiosity and never failed to put a curve on her lips. She answered the call and there she heard another voice, which was more lovelier and familiar than the previous one, a voice that gave her life, that still pushes her into it. She answered the call saying "yes Dad" and the voice replied with " He's finally passed away". She stopped at once, got down and dropped on the floor, by the curve of the road. She sat there staring into her phone, her ruthlessly cut hair covering her face and the occasional winds raising the curtain to her pain.
.
She sat there and thought about a man. A man who has abused her throughout her childhood, chased her through her teens and left her with pondering nightmares into her youth. A man who was not only content with her but her forbearer as well, the one who brought her up with love and affection, the one whom she so dearly called mom. A man so profound in the society, under the limelight but a nymphomaniac in the shadows, even to those tied to him by blood. She fell back into history and thought about how she took her vengeance. How he lied helplessly on his deathbed, paralysed like a log. How she would go to his chamber every single day when everybody failed to give a fuck. How she took care of him, cut his hair, shaved his Beard off, brushed his teeth, gave him a bath, only to see him cry and whine helplessly in pain, in the memories of how he abused her and her mother, how he ruined her childhood, her concepts about family and togetherness.
.
She stared at his picture for a while, closed her heart and looked deep into the ground and said "I've finally forgiven you grandfather"
.
She got up without even taking a glimpse of her trail and rode her mind back into serenity.
