My Short Story-1

*I am posting this on the insistence of Animesh, a fellow Indiblogger. I had no intention of posting it mainly because it is a sad one and stuff but well, doing it all the same. Hope you all like it. i errr... dont have a title for it yet. Any suggestions would be welcome :)*

 It felt as if the sun rays were entering through her dark, dingy cell after an eternity.
They struck her once pretty face, illuminating her lifeless soft, blue eyes with light; but the outer light could do nothing to erase the vacant darkness of her insides.

It seemed as if the brightness had brought her back to reality, and she slowly turned her stiff neck to bask the streaming sunlight fully. Her fingers worked monotonously, as if counting something, probably the days of the week; it seemed as if she had forgotten their use. They came to a sudden stop, as if they had encountered something very unpleasant and slowly, very slowly tears pooled up in her beautiful eyes, the glassy clarity of the salt water bringing life and emotion to their blank look. Her tears spilled over on her dirty cheeks, reminding her of the thing that was causing so much pain- it was the day her daughter came to meet her.

It was the same routine every three months. She would wait with anticipation to see her daughter’s lovely face, see in those familiar blue eyes the life she couldn’t live. But as the day would dawn, all her nervous apprehension would turn into fear and doubt; she would recline within herself, the chains that she had tied herself with 30 years would rattle ominously, warning that one wrong gesture would give the whole thing away…

She steeled herself mentally for the role she had to play every time- the torturous role of insanity, of pretense that she was lost in an unknown world of her own.

Footsteps echoed in the narrow corridor outside her cell. With a loud bang, the iron shutters were thrown open. More footsteps were heard. A brief glimpse of the powerful electric lights entered the room as a soft creak of the door brought three people into the room.
“Mrs. Winston, your daughter”, the lady guard announced in a harsh rumble.

“Don’t call her with that name”, murmured a soft voice reproachfully.

Her heartbeat fastened. It was Amber, her daughter.

 “Rosalind Mary for you then miss!” the guard called out harshly and went outside laughing. There were two people in the room now. One was her beautiful daughter- tall, with soft brown hair lifted up in an elegant bun, the same beautiful blue eyes like that of her mother and small, delicate features.

The other person in the room was a tall, handsome man with straight black hair, aquiline nose and intelligent grey eyes that wandered warily between the mother and daughter.
Amber took a step forwards so that she was facing her mother and crouched down on her knew. A wave of sadness crashed on her beautiful features as she tried in vain to see a flicker of recognition in her mother’s eyes
Just once mother’, she thought. ‘For once remember who I am. Run your hand on my head, let me feel the wrinkles of your skin, call me by the name that you so fondly chose for me. I haven’t even heard your voice in my life’.

Controlling her emotions and fighting her tears she took her mother’s hands in her own and said softly. “How are you mother? Has your cough subsided completely yet? Did you take the medicine?” trying not to feel discouraged by her mother’s blank face, she said, “Look what I brought for you, mother. Swiss chocolates! They taste lovely mother. They would just melt in your mouth”. Looking into the replica of her own eyes, Amber whispered, “You would eat them, wont you?”

‘Just nod once mother,’ her eyes seemed to plead. ‘Just let me know that you’re still there’…

Giving up on her mother’s unresponsive demeanor, she shook her head sadly and a single, large droplet fell from her eyes on her mother’s hand. Instantly, the tall man was by her side; his protective arm around her shoulder ad his calm, grey eyes soothing her. Amber smiled at him and he nodded once, as if replying her unspoken question.

“Mother I have to tell you something” she started shyly. “This is Caleb. I am… we are… getting married” she blushed instantly, a lovely pink coloring her flawless cream colored cheeks. Her fianc√©e smiled gently at her embarrassment and took her hand in his. “Mother, I won’t be coming around so frequently now. Caleb and I are shifting to his place in Canada “. 

A sad look crossed her face. “I’m sorry mother. You have to look after yourself on your own now. I promise to look in whenever I can but I guess things would be little busier after… after marriage.” She blushed again. “but I will send a postcard every month and maybe the inspector would allow you to spend the Christmas with us” her voice sounded hopeful.

“Sorry to burst your bubble dearie, but the inspector won’t allow mad people out there”. 
Amber jumped as the harsh voice boomed from the doorway. 
“Who knows,” the guard continued “they might commit more murders than they are convicted for” she laughed harshly again and the malice in that taunt angered Amber and she said furiously, “my mother is not mad and she certainly isn’t a murderer!” 
“Then who killed your father then? Fell dead out of the sky did he? Or did you stick a knife into him yourself?” the guard went on cruelly, her eyes glinting in a wicked way.
“That’s quite enough” Caleb intervened in his cool, confident voice. “Anymore nonsense and I would have to report you to the sub divisional inspector.”, he said, his calm voice making the threat sound even more chilling. The guard backed away, a sulky expression on her face, as if a juicy piece of gossip had been taken away from under her nose. “One minute more”, she shouted before leaving”.

“You shouldn’t have said that Cal, they might be terrible to mother now.” Amber was saying. 
“you worry too much dear, nothing is going to happen”. Lowering his voice to a gentle whisper, Caleb continued, “but you have to accept the truth Amber. You can’t go on… go on defending what your mother did”.

Amber sighed sadly and said, “I’m not defending anyone Cal. It’s just…just so hard to face when someone says something like this so directly and so bluntly. And the fact that I can’t remember any of it just makes it worse”. 

“Of course you don’t remember any of it honey. You were just four when your father was killed”. 

“But she can’t remember anything either, does she?” Amber asked, pointing to her mother. “She wouldn’t, you would say, because she has lost her memory in the accident. But all of it sounds so fantastic that sometimes I think it’s just a big game being played with me.”

“Now, now; don’t get all worked up dear. There’s nothing you can do about it now. And whatever is the truth is right in front of your eyes. Your father’s death was always a mystery because the only eyes witness of his death was convicted for his murder and she lost her memory to throw any more light on it. This is the truth Amber. The facts in front of eyes can’t be lying. You can’t change it, so learn to live with it” Caleb said in a reassuring way.

“I wish you weren’t always so practical Cal. Women do like their fantasies you know”, Amber said, a lovely smile being hinted behind her childish pout. 

“And I don’t want my beautiful woman getting all worked up with fantasies that won’t take us anywhere”. Both of them were smiling then; looking into each other’s eyes.
It was with a soft expression on her face that Amber turned to her mother, kissed her cheek softly and said, “Goodbye mother. Take care of yourself and don’t worry about me too much.” 
With a final smile, both of them turned and left.

*    *    *

Rosalind waited till the last door was closed behind them till she let her painful past and excruciating present overpower her and succumb her to tears. ‘I don’t have any more strength God, save me from this agony’

With tears pouring down her cheeks, she rummaged within her dirty bed covers and pulled out a thick, rusty diary. The entire thing was filled with small, petite handwriting, with only a few empty pages left at the end. She opened the diary at one of the empty ones and started writing; started writing the words that she couldn’t voice out aloud.

“Mrs. Winston, your daughter”

“Don’t call her with that name”,

 “Alright, Rosalind Mary for you the miss!”

My heart swelled with pain as I heard the hidden anger and disgust in her quiet denial. I fought to keep myself calm but it was always a herculean task-  to keep my emotions at bay.

Her beautiful face, close enough for me to touch, was twisted in agony and resentment as I saw my blank, expressionless face mirrored in her eyes. But to reveal the truth now would be disaster; a complete disaster. So I relived the option that I chose that day, as I had been reliving it every day, every moment she was with me.

“How are you mother? Has your cough subsided completely yet? Did you take the medicine?”

I’m fine dear. No, my cough still happens to trouble me but it is of no matter. The sight of your face is a much effective medicine than those awful pills.

“Look what I brought for you, mother. Swiss chocolates! They taste lovely mother. They would just melt in your mouth”.

That sounds really wonderful dear. But I can’t eat them. I have diabetes you see. But of course you wouldn’t know that. I told the doctor not to trouble anyone with my ailments. Seems like she has kept her word.

 “You would eat them, wont you?”

… How can I say no to your beautiful eyes when they are pleading with me? Diabetes or not, I’m going to eat them Amber. Yes. I will eat them.

 “Mother I have to tell you something”

Speak it aloud then my child

“This is Caleb. I am… we are… getting married”

But that is wonderful!! Congratulations dears. Ah! Look at that lovely blush! You both look infinitely sweet together. Lucky you found your soul-mate so young dearest. I wish you all the happiness in your life.

 “Mother, I won’t be coming around so frequently now. Caleb and I are shifting to his place in Canada. I’m sorry mother. You have to look after yourself on your own now. I promise to look in whenever I can but I guess things would be little busier after… after marriage.”

You don’t have to be sorry for anything. You deserve your own life. Don’t you worry about me too much now. I will be just fine. I just pray for your happiness every day. It doesn’t really matter if I see you in person or not my child, your sweet face is forever etched in my heart.

“But I will send a postcard every month and maybe the inspector would allow you to spend the Christmas with us”

There’s no need for that sweetie. I don’t think the authorities will allow for a convict to be out on loose. And they also think of me as insane you see. A postcard would be just fine. Just a word of your well being would be enough… more than enough.

The guard had intervened then, but I shut my ears off from the conversation for I didn’t need anything else to distract me from the terrible role I was playing to perfection; the inner turmoil in me was more than enough.

“Goodbye mother. Take care of yourself and don’t worry about me too much.”

They both left, hand in hand and it felt as if with every step they took away from me, I was taking a step towards my ultimate doom- the enclosing darkness with the dementors of my past, abstaining any happy thought from flashing across my memory.

The soft sun rays faded completely, leaving me in the dark that I feared so much. My eyes fell on the last reminder that my daughter had left behind- the box of chocolates.

I unwrapped the packet slowly, savoring the texture of the thin packet- this was where my daughter had left the physical imprints of her touch; packing love for me- her mother.
A small card fell from it which said “to my lovely mother”. I wiped my tears off it impatiently; they would smudge my Amber’s note… the note which clearly spoke of her love for me.

The chocolates inside the box looked delicious. Better than the frugal meals that I had to eat every day. The medical examiner had strongly warned me against eating anything sweet because I had very high sugar levels but I had promised Amber… death would be more favorable to me than breaking her word.

I unwrapped the foil and kept one in my mouth. They really did melt effortlessly. How many I ate, I didn’t know. Accept that my daughters sweet, lovely face drifted in and out of my vision. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread in my chest and something warm came out when I coughed this time. Just before I felt myself drifting away, I saw a few drops of blood fall and scatter over the last verse I had written…
*      *     *

 (to be continued)...
to read the 2nd part click  HERE


  1. I have already given all my comments:)
    I have a title in my mind but would first like to see what other suggestions are.
    Story in pieces

  2. Wow. That diary entry especially...beautiful!
    Tu pehle complete kar...i'll comment in person :-) properly.

  3. beautiful yes :) Kirti ur soo gifted!

  4. @animesh yea i know. thanks for that. and do give me suggestions for the title :)
    @antara thanks yaar. will be posting the rest soon :)
    @Shambhobi thanks!!

  5. Loved it totally!!
    So much emotion!!
    There is so much pain in Rosalind's character, so much love...

  6. thank you DS. this was my first short story :)
    i am really glad you like it and also Rosalind's character :)


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