Twisted Love

one

I STARED at the certificates in my hands, cursing my education over and over again in my head while sinking the burning pain of failure in my heart. Like an ambitious kid, I gave my everything to my study. My weekend, my sleep, my love life, I sacrificed my everything just to have good grades. So that I could get my dream job and live my life the way a person would want to.

I want nothing but to get out of my own hell.

Silence.

The painfully silent atmosphere is my partner in being miserable at my peak. The inexorable blistering cold breeze flowed in the room, shivering me as my eyes burnt. Not because of the wind but the sting of the despondent situation of my current life. I gulp down the bitterness down to my throat as it leaves a grim motion in my test-sense.

My impotent fingers got tightened on the flimsy material called paper in my hand, creating shrivel on my precious certificate. Hate is all I could feel. Emptiness is all I could say. I don't even have any special talent to get myself a job in some unique sector.

All I did was study.

Just to get a job and live a good life.

You see, I had dreams. Dreams that consist of going to Oxford University or Harvard University but my dreams remain dreams. For some reason I couldn't dream further than my local College. But then a miracle happened, one uni accepted me but the struggle of maintaining my fees at the same time working three jobs together was far more than just painful.

It was beyond painful.

But I never gave up. I kept myself composed at any cost, in any situation. I kept my head high showing everyone that I am happy whatever I have.

Half truth, half lie.

It's the same. Whenever I would get disappointed with my life, I watch my straight A leveled certificates, just to remind myself at least I tried hard and there is still hope. With the last skim of my eyes I put back the paper where it belongs.

A deep sigh left my lungs as I pressed the anxiety while clenching my jaw hard that consumes me every second of everyday. The fear of getting lost on my own, the fear not being found or loved by anyone consumes me every day and night.

I test ashes on my tongue. I see no colours when my heart keeps gnawing for that. I try my own brushes to paint my world, turning that into my wonderland. The silent cry of my heart, the dry tears on my cheeks, lingers on my skin like a monument.

I was alone but I was never alone.

I kept myself alive that way.

I glanced at the clock, biting down on my bottom lip. I wet my lips with my saliva and then gulped down. It's happening again.

My breathing took the best pace abruptly shadowing my eyes with darkness. My head feels dizzy and it's heavy. Flimsy lines of sweat accumulated on my forhead, declaring another panic attack is coming to embezzle my energy.

I didn't move from the place as I stared at the grey ground of my apartment. Tears blurred my vision as the previous frustration that I was successful to control, slipped from my authority.

I groaned as my angry tears fluxed nineteen to the dozen. My chest tightened due to the pain making me lay down on my back and then curl on my position.

"If you haven't told him to bring whatever shit you needed, my son would have been here with me."

Smack.

My loud cry.

Smack.

My scream.