Black and Blue
- Dur-e-Sameen Aamir
- May 4, 2016
- 1 min read
(Prequel to Crimson)
Slap. Punch. Kick. It doesn’t hurt. Not anymore. She feels numb. How can she not? It’s her daily routine. She sighs as she takes all of it. His anger. His frustration. His insecurities. The same record plays.
He isn’t satisfied. He never has been. Not since the first time he let his inhibitions go. It doesn’t make any sense to him. There she lies on the floor, looking broken – and yet, he feels she is anything but. Her eyes aren’t glassy, she makes no sound, and if it weren’t for the subtle rise and fall of her chest he would’ve proclaimed himself a murderer. She isn’t fighting for herself. It’s because she’s guilty, he thinks, as he walks away. He doesn’t feel even a shred of remorse.
She looks up as he disappears from her vision.
Another day, another sigh.
She replays every single moment of unfelt emotion since the day of reckoning. The record is played from the beginning. It Plays over and over. Plays faster. And faster. And faster.
Crack.
The curse is broken. The sound drowns in the silence of the room and the raggedness of her breaths. A smile decorates her lips. She feels rejuvenated.
But not for long. Nothing is ever for long.
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